Chapter 3

Tiffany smirked as she lifted her expensive phone and aimed it right at my face, recording every second of my humiliation.

It wasn’t the first time she’d pulled something like this.

Ryan once told me that he and Tiffany had grown up together—same hometown, same class since elementary school. He said she never looked down on his “poor background,” that she even helped his family when his parents were sick.

But the Tiffany I’d seen in college was nothing like that “sweet, generous girl” he described.

She was infamous at school, not for brains—

but for bullying.

She’d torment people, then film their humiliation and blast it online for everyone to mock. More than one victim dropped out because of her. One…I knew, didn’t survive it at all.

I never trusted her, but Ryan always defended her.

Turns out, some things never change.

I glared at her, fury boiling in my chest.

“Tiffany, don’t push it. First of all, every delivery driver comes through the front gate. There are no signs saying we can’t. If this is really against the rules, then the guards are at fault. Second—show me your proof. Where’s the evidence I ran over your stupid flowers? I stayed on the road the entire time.”

She laughed, with a cold, ugly sound.

“Proof? I am the proof. If I say you did it, you did it.”

Then she motioned to the two guards behind her. They grabbed my arms and pinned me, their hands clamping down hard.

I couldn’t move.

Tiffany’s hand cracked across my cheek once. Twice.

She looked down on me like I was trash beneath her designer heels, her eyes sharp and merciless.

Shame burned hotter than the pain. I’d never been humiliated like this in my entire life.

Who did she think she was? Did she really believe she could do whatever she wanted, without consequences?

Rage surged through me. I sank my teeth into the guard’s arm and fumbled with my free hand for my phone. 9-1-—

But Tiffany was faster. She snatched it away, slammed it onto the pavement, and the screen shattered into spiderweb cracks.

That was it. I lost it. “What the hell is wrong with you, Tiffany? What gives you the right to treat me like this?”

She sneered, her voice dripping with arrogance.

“What gives me the right? Nothing. I just feel like it. And soon, everyone else will get to watch your pathetic little breakdown too. I’m going to post every second of this.”

She nodded to the guards. One of them shoved me down and then kicked the back of my knees.

Pain ripped through my legs, and I collapsed onto the pavement.

People had gathered now—neighbors, passersby—all watching. Phones came out. Cameras clicked.

And Tiffany didn’t stop them. She basked in it, like I was her trophy on display.

Heat pounded in my head. My whole body trembled with fury. For one wild second, I wanted nothing more than to claw her smug, painted face into pieces.

She leaned down, grinning like she’d already won.

“What’s wrong, Sophie? Weren’t you always so high and mighty? Today, I’m going to crush that pride of yours into dust.”

I bared my teeth at her, my voice shaking with rage.

“You know Ryan’s my boyfriend. As his so-called ‘sister,’ aren’t you afraid of what he’ll say when he finds out what you’ve done to me?”

I thought dropping Ryan’s name might scare her. Instead, it only made everything worse.

Her face twisted, and she yanked me up by the collar. Her eyes blazed as she hissed in my face:

“Sister? Don’t make me laugh. I’m not his sister. I’m his fiancée. Our families have had an arrangement since we were kids. We’ve been promised to each other forever. And you? You’re nothing but a distraction. A toy. Did you really think you mattered?”

Her words slammed into me like a truck.

Fiancée.

Ryan was engaged. To Tiffany.

The puzzle pieces clicked into place all at once.

All those times she tagged along on our dates… all the times she clung to his arm, shared his food, drank from his cup…

Things only couples should do—she did them right in front of me.

And Ryan had brushed it off, swearing she was “just like a little sister.” He told me I was imagining things, that they’d simply been close since childhood.

And like an idiot, I believed him.

I swallowed my discomfort, forced myself to ignore it, to trust him.

But now… now it all made sense.

The way she looked at me. The cold shoulders when Ryan wasn’t around. The smug glint in her eyes.

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t rivalry. It was ownership.

She wasn’t protecting him. She was protecting her claim.

They had been playing me this entire time. Both.

My stomach twisted violently, bile rising to my throat.

Ryan Lawson. The boy I thought I loved. The boy I sacrificed everything for.

What did he ever see me as?

A joke? A side piece? A charity case?

The realization was so vile I gagged, doubling over, fighting the urge to vomit.