At Our Engagement Gala, I Exposed His Secret Son

I stood on the rooftop terrace of Bennett's penthouse, the Manhattan skyline glittering behind me like scattered diamonds. The pool glowed turquoise in the dark, steam rising into the cool April air. I wore one half of the couple's swimsuit I'd commissioned from a designer in SoHo—a sleek navy piece with delicate gold threading along the edges. I'd spent weeks on the design, picturing Bennett's face when he saw us matching tomorrow night at the engagement party.

Tonight was supposed to be intimate. Just close friends. A warm-up before the big celebration.

I scanned the crowd for Bennett. He'd texted me an hour ago saying he was running late from a board meeting. I sipped champagne and smiled at his cousin Evan, who was telling some story about a disastrous Tinder date. But my attention kept drifting to the cabana door.

Then it opened.

Nayeli Ward stepped out.

She wore the other half of my swimsuit.

The matching piece. The one I'd designed for Bennett. Navy fabric. Gold threading. Identical cut.

My hand tightened around the champagne flute.

Nayeli walked straight to the pool's edge where Bennett stood talking to investors. She laughed at something he said, her hand landing on his forearm. The gold thread caught the pool lights. She positioned herself right beside him, angling her body so everyone could see the matching set.

My throat felt tight.

She looked up and met my eyes across the terrace. Her smile was sweet. Poisonous.

I crossed the space between us. My bare feet slapped against the wet tile. Conversations died as I passed. Bennett turned, his expression shifting from surprise to something like alarm.

"Scarlett—"

"Where did you get that?" My voice came out steady. Calm. I was proud of that.

Nayeli tilted her head. "Get what?"

"The swimsuit."

"Oh, this?" She ran her hand down her side, tracing the gold threading. "Bennett gave it to me. We were going over IPO documents at his place, and he said I should take it for tonight. Partners share everything, don't they?"

The word *partners* landed like a slap.

I looked at Bennett. "You gave her my swimsuit?"

"It's not—Scarlett, it's just a swimsuit. Nayeli needed something for tonight, and I thought—"

"You thought you'd give her the matching piece to the custom set I designed for us?"

His jaw tightened. "You're overreacting."

Something hot flooded my chest. Not tears. Not hurt. Rage.

I turned to Nayeli. Her smile widened.

I slapped her.

The crack echoed across the rooftop. Conversations stopped. Music kept playing from invisible speakers, some pop song about summer love. Nayeli's head snapped to the side. Her hand flew to her cheek.

"Let me teach you where the line is," I said quietly.

Silence pressed down on the terrace. Someone's drink glass clinked against a table.

Then Bennett moved. Not toward me. Toward her.

He pulled Nayeli into his arms, his hand cradling her reddened cheek. "Are you okay? Jesus, Scarlett, what is wrong with you?"

I stared at them. At his arms around her. At the way she buried her face in his chest.

"What's wrong with *me*?" My voice stayed level. "She's wearing my swimsuit. The one I designed for you. For us. And you gave it to her."

"It's fabric, Scarlett. Fabric. You're acting like a jealous teenager." He turned to address the crowd, his voice rising. "Everyone, I'm sorry. My fiancée is having a moment. The wedding stress—"

"Don't," I said.

He ignored me. "Nayeli is essential to our company's IPO launch. She's been working around the clock. If Scarlett can't handle that—"

Nayeli lifted her head from his chest. Tears streaked her face. Real tears, or close enough. "I didn't mean to cause problems. I just thought—Bennett said it was fine. I'm so sorry, Scarlett."

Her voice trembled. Innocent. Wounded.

Bennett's expression hardened as he looked at me. "You need to apologize. Tomorrow night at the engagement party. In front of everyone. Nayeli doesn't deserve this treatment, and if you can't respect her, you're disrespecting our company. Our future."

I felt the weight of every stare on the terrace. Evan looked uncomfortable. The investors looked away. Bennett's arms stayed wrapped around Nayeli.

"If you don't apologize," Nayeli said softly, "I'll have to reconsider my involvement in the IPO. I can't work in a hostile environment."

The threat hung in the air. My $8 million. The company I'd saved. All of it balanced on her words.

Bennett's eyes met mine. Cold. Expectant. Waiting for me to fold.

Something inside me went very still.

I looked at him holding her. At the matching swimsuit. At the tears on her face and the irritation on his. At the crowd watching me like I was the villain in this story.

I smiled.

Not a nice smile. A blueprint smile.

"Okay," I said.

I turned and walked away. My feet left wet prints on the tile. Behind me, I heard Bennett exhale, probably in relief. Probably thinking I'd learned my lesson.

I picked up my bag from a lounge chair. I didn't look back.

The elevator doors closed on the sound of the party resuming. Music. Laughter. The clink of glasses.

I pulled out my phone.

The screen glowed in the dim elevator light.

I didn't cry. I didn't shake.

I opened my contacts and scrolled to one name.

*Dad.*

My thumb hovered over the call button.

Then the elevator dinged. Ground floor. The doors opened onto the marble lobby.

I stepped out into the cool night air and finally pressed call.