Some women get proposed to with roses and romance.
I got destroyed with champagne and betrayal.
The champagne glass slipped from my fingers and shattered against the marble floor, but no one heard it. Not over the gasps. Not over the three hundred voices suddenly whispering my name with pity.
I stood frozen in the middle of the Plaza Hotel's Grand Ballroom, wearing a custom white Valentino dress worth twenty thousand dollars, while my fiancé Nathan stood on stage with his arm wrapped around my step-sister.
His pregnant step-sister.
"Elena and I are having a baby," Nathan announced into the microphone, his voice booming through the speakers like a death sentence. His hand settled possessively on her stomach on the visible bump I'd somehow missed during family dinners and wedding planning sessions. "And I've realized she's the woman I truly love. Not Aria."
The crystal chandeliers above seemed to spin. Or maybe that was just my world tilting off its axis.
Three years. Three years of being the perfect fiancée. Three years of supporting his career, attending his boring business dinners, pretending I didn't mind when he took credit for my ideas. Three years of planning a future that was apparently a lie.
"Aria, darling." My stepmother Constance's voice cut through the roar in my ears. She stood near the stage in her silver gown, dabbing at completely dry eyes with a lace handkerchief. "Surely you understand. True love can't be denied. You want Nathan to be happy, don't you?"
Happy.
He looked happy. Radiantly, disgustingly happy as he pulled Elena closer and kissed her forehead. The same way he used to kiss mine.
My best friend Jennifer pushed through the crowd toward me, her face pale with shock and fury. "Aria, let's go. Let's get you out of here"
"No." The word came out stronger than I felt. Steadier than I had any right to be when my entire life was crumbling in front of New York's elite society.
I was Aria Chen. Daughter of Catherine Chen, the legendary tech CEO who'd built a billion-dollar empire from nothing. My mother had taught me that crying in public was weakness, and weakness was blood in the water for sharks.
And this ballroom was full of sharks.
"Congratulations," I said clearly, loudly enough for the nearby guests to hear. I lifted my chin and met Nathan's eyes across the distance. "I hope you'll both be very happy together."
Surprise flickered across his handsome face. He'd expected tears. Expected me to fall apart, to scream, to make a scene that would justify his betrayal. Poor Nathan, stuck with such a hysterical woman. No wonder he fell for sweet, gentle Elena.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
I turned on my heel, my white dress flowing behind me like a queen's cape, and walked toward the exit. Each step was measured, graceful, perfect. Just like my mother had taught me before cancer stole her from me five years ago.
The crowd parted before me. Some faces showed pity. Others showed fascination the same look people get watching a car crash. A few showed calculation, already wondering how this scandal would affect their business relationships with the Cross family.
Nathan was a Cross. Old money, powerful connections, the kind of family that owned half of Manhattan's real estate. I'd thought that marrying him meant securing my future, honoring my mother's legacy by merging our family's tech company with his family's resources.
Instead, he'd stolen everything.
The realization hit me as I reached the ballroom doors: my mother's company. Chen Technologies. The AI software empire she'd spent twenty years building.
I'd signed it over to Nathan six weeks ago.
He'd said it was to "protect our future together." That merging Chen Technologies with Cross Enterprises would expand both our legacies. That we'd run it together as husband and wife, continuing my mother's vision.
I'd believed him. Signed every document his lawyers put in front of me without having my own attorney review them, because I trusted him. Because I loved him. Because I was a complete fool.
The night air hit my face as I stumbled out of the Plaza, and that's when the tears finally came. Hot, angry tears that ruined my makeup and probably my dress, but I didn't care anymore.
My phone buzzed in my clutch. Text messages from people who'd been at the party, probably offering empty sympathy or asking for gossip details.
I ignored them all.
My driver wasn't here yet I'd told him to come back at midnight, thinking I'd be celebrating my engagement with my fiancé, not fleeing from my public humiliation.
"Need a ride?"
The voice came from behind me, deep and cold as winter. I spun around and found myself staring at a man who looked almost exactly like Nathan, but… different.
Taller. Broader shoulders. Darker hair styled with more sophistication. And eyes grey instead of Nathan's brown that were absolutely merciless.
Damien Cross. Nathan's older brother.
The one Nathan never talked about. The one who'd cut ties with the Cross family five years ago and built his own empire Titanium Holdings, a venture capital firm worth billions. Forbes called him "The Ice King" because he'd never lost a deal and showed zero emotion in business or life.
He also happened to be standing outside the Plaza at the exact moment I needed to escape, wearing an impeccable black suit and an expression of cold amusement.
"I don't need anything from a Cross," I said, trying to sound strong despite the tears still streaming down my face.
"Clearly." His lips curved in something that wasn't quite a smile. "That's why you're standing on Fifth Avenue in a wedding dress at ten PM, crying."
"Engagement dress," I corrected automatically. "And I'm not crying. I have something in my eye."
"Both eyes?"
I glared at him. "What are you even doing here? I thought you didn't attend family events."
"I don't. I was having dinner across the street and saw the commotion." He gestured toward the Plaza, where guests were starting to stream out, probably eager to spread the gossip.
"Thought I'd investigate what disaster Nathan had caused this time."
This time. As if destroying his fiancée's life was a regular occurrence.