Celeste sat back in self-loathing.
It had been an hour since she left Landon and Nana upstairs. Her heels clicked aimlessly across cold marble as she wandered the Cross estate like a ghost in someone else's life.
She drifted from one conversation to another, nodding and smiling without hearing a single word. The rich talk about anything but how they got rich.
The wine in her hand had long gone warm, and her makeup had started to crack under the weight of her thoughts. She felt pressured.
A part of her wanted to be selfish and not care about Nana's health. To tell her the truth, and walk out of the Cross life entirely. However, another part of her wanted to stay.
She hated this. She hated herself for even thinking it was ever real. Landon was right. She was just a bet.
She had been a dare passed between bored rich boys in fancy suits. A girl from the wrong background, the wrong bloodline, with nothing but her stubborn dignity and misplaced hope.
