After My Ex Kissed My Stepsister at the Gala

I stood by the window of my Midtown hotel room. The Manhattan skyline sparkled against the dark night sky. Three years. It had been three long years since I ran away from this city. I didn't come back for a happy reunion. I came back for a war.

I turned away from the glass and walked to the bed. I unzipped my heavy suitcase and unpacked methodically. I pulled out thick legal files. Financial documents. Proof of what my biological father, Ricardo Collins, stole. I stacked them neatly on the desk. He took everything when my mother died. He moved his new wife, Valeria, and her daughter into our home before the dirt on my mother's grave was even settled.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a small gold locket. It was heavy and cold in my palm. My mother, Marley Parker, built her company from the ground up. Ricardo erased her name. I popped the locket open. My mother’s face smiled back at me. Beneath her picture was a tiny folded note in her handwriting. *Build something they can never take.*

I traced the letters with my thumb. My chest tightened with a familiar ache. "I will, Mom," I whispered to the empty room.

Two hours later, I stepped into a high-profile Manhattan charity gala. It was my first public appearance. I wore a backless black silk gown. It fit like a second skin, but it felt like armor. The grand ballroom was loud. It was filled with clinking champagne flutes and the low hum of wealthy people making deals.

I walked into the room with my head held high. I wasn't the scared girl Ricardo pushed out anymore. I scanned the crowd and spotted two of my mother's former board members near the bar. I walked over and offered a polite smile.

"Mr. Vance. Mrs. Gable," I said smoothly.

They turned around. Their eyes widened in shock. "Saoirse? Is that you?" Vance asked, nearly dropping his glass.

"It's me," I replied. "I'm back in the city."

Mrs. Gable frowned, looking nervous. "Your father didn't mention you were attending."

"Ricardo doesn't know everything," I said, keeping my voice perfectly steady. "We should talk about the company's future soon. Real leadership is returning to New York."

I planted the seeds quickly. I watched their faces pale slightly. My fingers drifted up to my collarbone. I touched the cold gold of my locket. Once. Twice. I was doing it. I was taking the first step.

Then, the air in the room shifted.

I turned around, and my breath caught sharply in my throat. Paxton Griffin stood across the ballroom. Three years ago, he was a broke college kid. The boy I loved more than anything in the world. The boy I left without a word to protect him from my toxic family's crossfire.

Now, he was a billionaire tech mogul. He wore a sharp, custom black suit. He looked older, broader, and dangerously handsome. But that wasn't what made my stomach drop.

His large hand rested on the small of a woman's back. Dayana Collins. My stepsister.

Dayana wore a bright red dress and a smug smile. She leaned into him, totally at ease. Paxton looked down at her. He was attentive and close. A sharp, burning pain pierced my chest. I forced my hands to relax at my sides. I wouldn't let it show.

Paxton lifted his head. His dark eyes locked onto mine across the crowded room. The temperature around me seemed to plummet. He whispered something low into Dayana's ear. Then, he guided her straight toward me.

My heart hammered fiercely against my ribs. I stood perfectly still.

"Saoirse," Paxton said. His voice was deep and smooth. It sent a wild shiver down my spine. But his eyes were pure ice. He gave me a glacial, empty smile. "It's been a long time. You look exactly the same. Always running away, but somehow ending up right back where you started."

Dayana smirked. "Welcome back, sister."

I looked at Paxton. I didn't flinch. I didn't let my voice shake. "Hello, Paxton. Dayana. Enjoy the party."

I turned on my heel and walked away.

I drank too much champagne after that. Every time I looked up, Paxton was touching Dayana's arm. Whispering to her. Standing entirely too close. Each touch felt like a physical blow to my ribs. By midnight, my head spun. The gala felt suffocating.

I slipped out the side doors into the cool night air. A heavy rain had started to fall. A sleek black town car sat idling at the curb. The back door swung open. I didn't think. I just climbed in, assuming it was a car service called by the venue.

The door shut behind me. The car smelled like expensive leather, rain, and cedarwood. Paxton's cologne. I froze.

Paxton sat next to me in the dark. His jaw was tight. "My driver has standing instructions to wait by the side exit," he said coldly. "Where are you going?"

The silence in the back seat was thick. It pressed against my chest. The streetlights flickered over his sharp profile. I missed him so much it physically ached. The alcohol made my edges soft. It made me reckless.

I leaned back against the plush leather seat and let my walls drop. Just for a second.

"Maybe I'm going wherever you're going," I said softly. My voice was warm. A little teasing. It was the voice I used to use when we laid together in his cramped dorm room. "We could pick up right where we left off, Paxton."

I saw the exact moment the words hit his deepest scar. The abandonment. He thought I dumped him because he wasn't rich enough. He thought I threw him away like trash.

His broad shoulders went perfectly rigid. The air in the car turned toxic. His hands curled into fists on his knees. His knuckles turned stark white under the passing streetlights. He turned his head slowly. His dark eyes were blazing with a cold, furious pain. He didn't yell. That made it worse.

"Pull over," he barked at the driver.

The car lurched to a halt beside the wet curb. Paxton didn't look at me. His voice was a low, dangerous growl. "Get out, Saoirse."

The teasing smile fell completely off my face. The cold reality crashed over me. I nodded slowly. I opened the door and stepped out into the pouring rain. The car sped away, leaving me standing alone in bitter silence.

I walked the rest of the way to my hotel. The heavy rain soaked my hair. My expensive silk dress clung to my freezing skin. The city lights blurred in the puddles on the pavement. I didn't cry. I didn't deserve to cry. I did this to him. I pushed him away to keep him safe, and this hatred was the price I had to pay.

I reached my room and locked the door. I sat on the edge of the large bed, still dripping wet. The room was completely silent.

I cracked. A long, terrible stillness washed over me. My chest hollowed out. I felt entirely, devastatingly alone. My trembling fingers reached up and opened the gold locket. My mother's face blurred through the water welling in my eyes.

I sucked in a sharp, shaky breath. I held it until my lungs burned. Then, I let it out.

I snapped the locket shut. I stood up, walked to the desk, and flipped open my laptop. The screen glowed bright in the dark room. It was time to get to work.