VERONICA POV
I was already at the welcome soirée, but whispers floated through the crowd that Jason’s adoptive father might not make it tonight. I didn’t know how true that was.
I glance around, the black lace of my mask brushing my cheek as I turn. The room glows with quiet luxury: crystal chandeliers catching low light, faces half-hidden but wealth so obvious it doesn’t need to speak.
Even in the expensive Zara dress Jason gave me, I knew they could tell I didn't belong here.
“What are you doing here?” Moni’s voice sliced through the murmur. She stands unmasked, face exposed under the chandelier. “Who the f**k invited you?”
I don’t answer, just stare past her, like she’s not even there.
She steps closer, her eyes raking over me with pure disgust. “You should be ashamed of yourself. You don’t fit in this world—this luxurious world. You look so out of place.”
Her gaze drops to my dress, and her lips curl. “Look at you. Trying so hard to be me. Same outfit, same damn color. Pathetic.”
I meet her eyes but say nothing.
“Oh, you’re giving me the silent treatment?” she smirks. “How cute. Fine. Watch yourself get kicked out of this soirée soon… because in a few minutes, everyone here will believe you tried to murder me.”
Before I can react, she lunges forward, her fingers hooking under the edge of my mask. She yanks it off in one swift motion, tossing it carelessly over her shoulder.
It flutters to the floor somewhere behind her.
“W-what the hell was that for? And what do you mean… murder you?” My voice cracks.
She doesn’t answer. Instead, her fingers clamp around my wrist—hard, like she’s trying to leave marks. Pain shoots up my arm.
She starts moving, yanking me forward through the crowd. My heels catch on the marble for a second before I stumble after her.
“Where are you taking me?” I try to pull free, but her grip only tightens.
“Behave,” she hisses through her teeth.
“Moni, what did I ever do to you?” My voice comes out smaller than I want. “Just let me be. Please.” She drags me down a side hallway, heels clicking.
“No,” she hisses. ““I hate you for having what I want. I’m tired of you always getting everything I always wanted. Ever since high school. And if I can’t have what you have …”
Her lips curl slowly.
“…then I’ll just snatch it from you. Cute, huh?”
She shrugs one shoulder, her eyes glinting with something cruel.
“Everything is falling into place. Exactly as I planned. Now I have Jason. I thought it would be hard to make him mine…” She lets out a soft, amused breath.
“…but that was the easiest thing on my to-do list.”
Her smile widens.
“And honestly? Watching you realize he’ll always choose me…”
She tilts her head slightly.
“…that’s just the cherry on top.”
My heart slams violently against my ribs.
“Between you and me, Veronica… if we were both locked in a burning room, who do you think he would save?”
Moni ask, a wicked grin curling on her lips.
My stomach knots. “What? Moni, there’s no need for all this. I’m only here to do what I promised. It’s for my dad’s hospital bills. I swear.”
“Awww… unfortunately, bestie, that story might wow the Greek gods, but not me.”
“Please—” I barely get the words out.
She shoves open a side door and pushes me inside a small storage room. I stumble, catching myself against a shelf. She steps in after me and slams the door shut, quickly wedging a small metal pin from her clutch into the handle to jam it temporarily.
I glance around. Stacks of linens. Cleaning supplies. A trash bag slumped in the corner.
“What are we doing here?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she pulls a matchbox from her clutch, strikes one. The flame flares. She touches it to the trash bag behind me.
Fire catches instantly.
Heat licks at my legs. I jerk back, coughing.
“Moni! Are you insane? You’ll get us both killed…what are you even thinking?”
She laughs, low and satisfied. “Kill us? Sweetheart… I’m not dying today.”
She yanks the pin free, unjamming the door, but leans against it for a moment longer. “Jason’s going to save me. He always does. And if he’s slow? My accomplice is right outside. I’m covered. You, though…”
She tilts her head. “You’re the unhinged ex who dragged me in here at knifepoint”—she flashes a small pocket knife from her clutch, then tucks it away—“started the fire to kill me, and got trapped in your own mess. That’s what everyone will hear.”
My pulse hammers. I glance around as smoke billows, stinging my eyes. I lunged for the door, but she shoves me back hard, knocking a stack of linens toppled toward the flames, igniting.
The knife clatter to the floor near my feet.
“Moni, this is so ridiculous. I never did anything to you to deserve all this.” My voice shakes, choked by panic. “And why would anyone believe I’d want to murder you?
“Isn’t it obvious? You tried to murder me because you’re jealous that I’m carrying Jason’s child.”
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
The smoke thickens fast, stinging my eyes, clawing at my throat. I press my sleeve over my mouth.
She starts coughing too, eyes watering. She spins and pounds on the door.
“Help! Fire! Veronica locked me in! She dragged me here, threatened me with a knife—she’s trying to kill me!”
A man’s voice outside: “There’s a fire—someone’s inside!”
The door handle rattles.
It isn’t even locked. So why is he pretending?
Should be one of her accomplice holding it shut—just long enough to sell the story.
Then I hear another voice—one I know too well.
Jason.
With one sharp pull, the door flies open.
“Moni!” he shouts, eyes wild. He rushes straight through the gap, ignoring the heat, and scoops her up.
He doesn’t even look my way.
I sink to my knees, coughing harder, my vision blurring.
“Moni, baby, are you okay?” I hear him outside, voice thick with panic. “How’s our baby? Talk to me, Moni.”
Jason never sounded that worried about me. Never.
How cruel.
Guests swarm them. Whispers float in, but no one comes for me.
Someone yells, “Hey, Jason—your girlfriend’s still in there! The fire’s getting out of control!”
“Girlfriend?” Jason’s voice is cold. “Moni’s more important. She’s carrying my child. I don’t care who’s left in that room.”
The words hit harder than the smoke.
Why drag me here as his fake girlfriend, just to deny me?
I’m slipping, consciousness fading, when strong arms suddenly wrap around my waist. Someone lifts me effortlessly, carrying me out into the cool, clean air.
I gasp, choking, as he sets me down on the artificial grass outside. Gentle hands pat my back while I cough and wheeze, desperate for oxygen.
My eyes flutter open, close, and open again until his face comes into focus.
He knelt in front of me, one hand steady on my back, the other patting me slowly. An oversized matte-black blazer draped over his broad shoulders, clean fade to short curls, sharp jaw shadowed by mustache and goatee. A black mask cut high across his nose, revealing emerald eyes.
Even half-hidden behind the black mask, I could tell he was devastatingly handsome.
Across the hall, Moni is already surrounded by guests, clutching her stomach dramatically, tears streaking her face.
“She did it,” Moni says, her voice trembling, pitched perfectly for pity. She points at me weakly. “Veronica—tell them the truth. You dragged me in there, threatened me with a knife—the door jammed shut behind us in the struggle. You tried to run, but the fire spread too fast and blocked the exit. You wanted me and my unborn child dead.”
Her words land like a slap. The crowd murmurs, heads turning toward me.
“No—” I rasp, coughing. “I didn’t. That’s not what happened.”
Jason’s face darkens as he kneels beside Moni, his arm protectively around her. “You know what? I’m honestly not surprised if she tried to murder Moni tonight. Veronica is just naturally jealous.”
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first.
I never did any of that.
The guests are nodding along, their eyes cold on me. Jason’s rich. His adoptive father’s influence looms over everyone. They’ll believe whatever he says whether it sounds ridiculous or not.
Moni looks up at Jason, her eyes wide and pleading. “Jason…tell them. Make it official. Tell everyone right now—who you pick. Me…or Veronica.”
The hall goes quiet.
Jason doesn’t hesitate. “Moni. Obviously. She’s carrying my child. Veronica means nothing to me.”
My stomach twists so hard I almost double over. Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall in front of these people.
I cough again, weaker this time. “I’m telling the truth. Listen to me—I didn’t push anyone. I was dragged in there. I couldn’t have—”
No one responds. They look away, embarrassed for me or just uninterested.
I give up.
That’s when the stranger’s deep voice cuts through everything.
“I’m profoundly disappointed in you, boy,” he says, voice deep and calm, carrying effortlessly across the nearest masked crowd.
Jason turns fast, face already flushing. “I don’t know who the f*****g hell you are, but you don’t get to speak to me like that.”
The man doesn’t flinch. He looks at him with quiet contempt. “I’m the man who’s tired of watching spoiled boys throw tantrums in rooms they didn’t earn.” He pauses.
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? I should ask my assistant exactly where he picked you up.”
Jason’s mouth opens, then closes. No sound comes out. His eyes widened for a second.
The whole hall goes dead quiet for a beat.
Then the whispers start—low at first, then spreading fast. Heads turn. Phones stay half-raised. People stare openly now.
In all the years I've been around Jason, no one has ever spoken to him like that.
They wouldn’t dare.
Not because Jason himself inspires fear.
It’s his adoptive father.
The man with the untouchable legacy—no one talks about in detail, but everyone just…knows to respect him.
Jason’s jaw locks so hard I can see the muscle jump. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Security!” Jason barks. “Get this maniac out of here.”
The two security guards by the door don’t move.
Jason raises his voice a little, trying to sound in control. “Hello? Anybody working tonight, or do I need to find new ones by morning?”
Still, no one moves.
The stranger looks down at me, eyes locked on mine, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Mi amor,” he murmurs. “Do you want to have revenge s*x with me tonight?”
Before I can process what he said, his mouth crashes onto mine.
The kiss is sudden, hot, claiming. His lips are firm, tasting faintly of whiskey. I hesitate for half a second—then I kiss him back. Hard.
Partly because he’s unreal, beautiful in a way that feels dangerous, and partly because Jason is watching.
I slide my hands into his blazer, pulling him closer. He deepens it, tongue stroking mine, teeth catching my bottom lip just enough to draw a soft moan from me.
“You psychopath!” Jason shouts. “How dare you—”
“Don’t you ever get tired of being a slut, Veronica?” Jason spits. “You have no dignity.”
I pull back just enough to glare at him. “Oh wow, now I’m the one without dignity? You got my best friend pregnant, dumped me publicly, and left me to choke in there—but I’m the slut?”
The stranger smirks, thumb brushing my lower lip. “You kissed me back, so I'll take that kiss as a yes.”
Before I can speak, he scoops me up effortlessly, as if I weigh nothing, and strides through the stunned crowd.
I sneak a quick glance back over his shoulder.
Jason’s mouth hangs open like he just swallowed a bug.
And damn it feels so good.