A Secret Kept For Close Friends

The day Romeo Sterling and I got back together, he posted a photo of us on his Instagram.

I stared at the post for a full three minutes before I noticed the familiar "Close Friends" icon in the top right corner. As it turned out, Romeo had made the post visible to everyone except his adopted sister, Chloe Sterling.

This was the sister he had always cherished above anyone else.

I calmly met Romeo's eyes. "If you'd rather be with Chloe, I can call off the engagement anytime."

A flash of panic crossed Romeo’s face. In front of everyone, he removed the restriction, making the post public for the entire New York Upper East Side to witness our reconciliation.

Half an hour later, at a charity gala, Chloe rushed toward us, wearing only a thin formal gown. Then, she promptly “fainted” into Romeo’s arms.

I watched as Romeo carefully gathered Chloe into his arms and carried her toward the car. He moved with a practiced ease that suggested he’d done this hundreds, if not thousands, of times before.

In that moment, I realized I was utterly exhausted with my engagement to Romeo.

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1

The day we got back together, Romeo Sterling posted two photos of us on his Instagram.

In one, we were standing side-by-side on the terrace of his penthouse, the glittering New York City skyline sprawling behind us. The caption read: "A new beginning, with the stars as our witness."

I stared at the photo for a long time before my eyes caught the green star icon in the top right corner. He’d set the post to "Close Friends," and Chloe Sterling was not on the list.

"Happy now?" Romeo's voice came from behind me. He slid his phone across the marble countertop. "Next time, try not to make a scene over something so trivial."

I looked up at him. This was the face I had been infatuated with for three long years. From the moment I first saw him on my twenty-fifth birthday, standing in the spotlight of a charity gala, his blue eyes glinting with a light so captivating, I knew I was lost.

My name is Sloane Dawson, an architect from a perfectly ordinary middle-class family. Romeo is the sole heir to the Sterling Group. We inhabited completely different worlds.

I had fought tooth and nail for three years just to earn a place by his side.

It always came back to the same thing. "Chloe's heart is weak," he would say. "She's my sister. Don't be so hard on her."

The last time we broke up, it was because Chloe wanted him to keep her company on our anniversary. They stayed at their Long Island villa until dawn. When I asked him if he’d forgotten our date, he told me I was overreacting.

When I tried to end things, he just said, "Do whatever you want."

He said it because he knew I could never bring myself to cut ties with him. For the past three years, I was always the one who caved.

This time, as I stood before him, I was struck by a quiet realization: my heart wasn't pounding.

Maybe I didn't love him anymore.

"You hid this from Chloe," I stated.

His back went rigid. "She hasn't been well. She can't handle any extra stress."

"So I'm the one you have to hide?"

He froze.

"Romeo," I said, my voice steady, "you and Chloe aren't related by blood."

He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"If she's the one you want, I can call off the engagement. You two can be together."

The moment the words left my mouth, even I was surprised.

For the past three years, any time Chloe was involved, I would lose my composure. I would scream and demand answers, tears in my eyes as I accused him of playing favorites.

But now, telling him he could be with her, my tone was as calm as if I were discussing blueprints for my next project.

Romeo stared at me, his eyes filled with shock and… was that a flicker of panic?

"Enough!" His familiar, domineering presence flared, charging the air with a heavy tension.

I didn't even flinch. The force that once made me want to yield now washed over me like a light breeze, leaving no trace.

Even my pulse was unnaturally steady. It no longer hammered in response to his moods.

Romeo stared at me for a long moment before his voice softened. "That was inconsiderate of me."

He picked up his phone and re-uploaded the photo. This time, it was a close-up, the Cartier diamond bracelet on my wrist in sharp focus.

He changed the caption: "We're back together. Renewing our engagement at the end of the summer."

The post was public.

He reached out, as if to touch the bracelet, but I instinctively pulled my hand away.

A sudden, sharp irritation pricked at me.

"If there's nothing else, I need to get to the gala," I said, turning to go.

I had only taken a few steps when I paused.

Knowing Chloe, she’d be here any minute.

The thought had barely formed when a commotion at the ballroom entrance announced Chloe's arrival.