Marianne watched them walk off together, eyes filled with quiet desolation.

Arthur gently pulled her into his arms, voice low and comforting. "Come on now, you're still recovering. Don't overthink it. Go sit for a bit, get some rest."

*****

Bellamy lounged lazily against Fraser, swaying with the music like she was right at home.

Fraser ran his fingers through her silky hair, speaking to her in a soft, tender tone, "Bellamy, my step-mom's been in bad shape lately. Try not to upset her, alright?"

Bellamy froze mid-step, slowly pulling away from his embrace. Her smile was all sharp edges. "You all say that every other day. If she's really been so sick for all these years, how's she still alive? Isn't there a saying-evil lingers the longest?"

"Bellamy!" The warmth in Fraser's expression vanished, brows pulling tight. "You can't talk about her like that, she's still-"

"Shut it!" Bellamy's pretty face twisted, lifted heel digging down hard on his foot. Fraser winced, face stiff with pain, and she didn't budge an inch.

"Fraser, I don't want to hear another word about her. Say I went too far, fine. But let's skip her and talk about Lydia instead. Seemed like you guys were all kinds of cozy just now."

Fraser sighed in frustration, decided to go with her diversion. "Lydia's my junior from college. She graduated two years ago and just came back. We barely ran into each other; only exchanged a few polite words."

As he spoke, he wrapped an arm around her waist and gently hoisted her off his foot.

Bellamy didn't resist, but gave him a look that said she wasn't letting him off that easy. "Lydia, huh? That was real sweet. Just so you know, while you managed to save your foot, mine is still emotionally wounded."

He knew she was just being bratty, but he couldn't help laughing.

Tapping her forehead playfully, his voice filled with mock solemnity, "Alright, no more Lydia. From now on, it's Ms. Grant-shouldn't cause any more involuntary shivers, right?"

Bellamy was all smiles, nodding like a happy bunny before diving back into his arms.

Not far off, Marianne was still staring in their direction. Bellamy shot her a smug, cocky eyebrow raise-just like a victor flaunting her prize.

*****

The party wrapped up early.

Fraser, as the host, stayed to see guests off. Bellamy slipped out to the balcony where it was quiet, waiting for him to finish up so they could leave together.

The breeze carried the early chill of autumn, and Bellamy hugged her arms, hopping lightly in place to stay warm.

Suddenly, the balcony door creaked open. Lydia walked in, all poise and elegance.

"Miss Hawkins, still here? Taking in the night view alone?" Her hands rested lightly on the railing as she looked up at the stars before turning to Bellamy. "The location here really is perfect. Such a lovely view."

Under the porch light, that smile-just the right amount of polite perfection-was enough to make anyone feel queasy.

Bellamy sighed, disappointed, and cut straight to the chase.

"Miss Grant, we've interacted a few times. I thought you were the straightforward type. Didn't expect you to play this fake game too. I'm not into it. So if you've got something to say, say it."

Lydia's expression didn't change, her voice still sweet and calm. "I'm not quite sure what you mean, Miss Hawkins."

Bellamy gave her a long look, lips curling ever so slightly. "I'm talking about Fraser. That should clear things up, shouldn't it?"

Lydia's smile froze right then.

Bellamy wasn't in the mood to beat around the bush with her, so she cut right to the chase.

"I know Miss Grant is a strong candidate for the Branwell family's daughter-in-law, and you obviously have a thing for Fraser. And yeah-I'm his woman. Not his official girlfriend though. Just... something like a fling or hookup. So if you're looking to win him over, don't waste your time treating me like some rival to take down. The quickest way is to go straight to him."

She finished in one breath, casually flicked her fingers in the direction of the main hall with a confident air.

Right then, the balcony door slid open again.

Fraser nodded politely but distantly at Lydia.

Then he draped his blazer over Bellamy's shoulders, tucking it around her as he gently scolded her,

"Didn't I tell you to wait for me in the room upstairs? What are you doing out here in the cold? You trying to get sick?"

Bellamy stuck her tongue out and pointed toward Lydia behind him, clearly trying to shift the blame.

"Pretty sure I'm not the only one who's asking for trouble. Your college junior's out here too!"

Fraser shot her a helpless look, pulled her into his arms, and turned to Lydia, who was still wearing her ever-graceful smile. "I had someone arrange a car for you outside. It's ready to take you home."

Lydia's lips had gone pale in the night breeze, but her smile stayed sweet, eyes carrying a soft glint. "Alright, thank you, Fraser. Oh, and since it's been a while and the vibe tonight isn't great for catching up, why don't we pick another time to meet and really talk?"

No sooner had she said that than Bellamy rubbed her arms dramatically, giving a theatrical shiver.

"What's wrong? Cold?" Fraser's expression changed slightly as he pulled her tighter into his arms, completely ignoring everything Lydia had just proposed.

Bellamy, still chuckling as she patted her chest, said, "I'm fine! Just got a little nauseated hearing all those 'Fraser this' and 'Fraser that' from Miss Grant. It was so sugary I almost passed out."

Lydia's smile faltered instantly; no amount of poise could save her expression now.

Fraser, though, gave the faintest grin like he was amused, trying hard not to laugh.

He knew Bellamy was up to her usual mischief again... and once again, he had to play clean-up crew.

Being the well-mannered gentleman was second nature to him. He turned to Lydia looking a bit apologetic. "Miss Grant, sorry about that. Bellamy's a bit childish sometimes, doesn't really mean any harm. Plus, she had a couple extra drinks tonight-probably a little tipsy. Don't take what she says too seriously."

Lydia lowered her eyes, sneering inwardly.

If he'd seen how Bellamy coolly outbid everyone at the western city project just last week, he wouldn't be calling her childish.

If he'd watched her drink a table full of sweaty businessmen under the table the week before that, he wouldn't be buying that 'a few drinks' nonsense.

Do you even realize how ruthless that woman really is, Fraser?

Suddenly, Lydia looked up and flashed a warm smile. "It's fine, Fraser. I know a little about Bellamy's past... It's normal for her to act like a kid sometimes. I understand, and I won't take it personally."

The moment those seemingly innocent words slipped out, Bellamy's head snapped up. Her bright almond eyes sharpened instantly, like she was just about to unleash hell.

Seeing that, Lydia instinctively took a small step back, looking flustered and putting on a pitiful expression.

She quivered slightly and said in a soft voice, "Bellamy, why are you staring at me like that? It's kind of scary. Did I say something wrong? If I did, I'm really sorry... Please don't be mad."

She looked innocent on the outside, but inside, she was grinning with satisfaction.

Lydia deliberately touched the nerve she knew Bellamy hated most-her background. And she did it where it would hurt the most: right in front of Fraser.

She was trying to remind Fraser that Bellamy didn't come from a respectable place, hoping he'd see how hot-headed and uncultured Bellamy really was.

She wanted to highlight just how elegant and polished she herself was-by comparison.

But before Bellamy could even react, Fraser gave a faint, casual smile.

"Best be careful with what you say to her. Bellamy's not like you, some polished lady from a big family. She gets mad, she hits."

Dressed in a sleek black suit, Fraser looked like he'd melted into the night.

He was smiling, yeah, but his whole vibe was colder than the dark around him.

A chill crept up Lydia's spine out of nowhere.

Did she not manage to provoke Bellamy... but instead end up ticking off Fraser?

And that word "lady" in his sentence sounded more like shade than praise.

Lydia realized she'd messed up big time. She didn't dare stick around, afraid she'd say something worse.

Her manicured nails dug into her palm as she forced a smile, said goodbye, and left quickly.

*****

On the way back, Bellamy clung to Fraser's waist and wouldn't let go, no matter what he said.

He gave up trying to peel her off. When they got out of the car, he just picked her up and carried her inside, gritting between his teeth as he nipped at her earlobe,

"Seriously? Are you actually drunk or just putting on a show now?"

Bellamy looked up at him with a dazed grin, her gaze all soft and hazy-like she really was hammered.

"You said I'm not like Lydia, right? So what does that make me?"

That clueless look of hers was ridiculously cute, and Fraser couldn't help but grin back.

"You're my little witch," he said, eyes twinkling.

My irresistible little witch.

"I like that answer." Bellamy narrowed her eyes like a sly fox, burying her face against his neck, giggling.

Then, without warning, she bit him. Hard. But right after, she gently licked where she'd bitten, like she was sorry.

She moved slow, painfully slow, and Fraser shivered at the sensation, like his whole back had caught fire.

Bellamy giggled, eyes barely slitted from laughter, and her fingers started wandering-from his back to his chest, then further south.

At that point, Fraser wasn't capable of rational thought anymore. His ears turned so red they might as well have been glowing.

He scooped her up and stormed inside the apartment, tossed her onto the couch, tore off his jacket without a second thought and leaned over her.

As he got closer to her vividly red lips, he frowned at the mess of lipstick. Without thinking, he wiped it off roughly with the sleeve of his crisp white shirt.

The color was gone, but her lips, now slightly battered and even redder from the scrubbing, looked ridiculously tempting.

Bellamy parted those ruby-red lips and whispered,

"Fraser, you know witches like me are born to drive people wild, right?"

Fraser's eyes darkened with intense heat as he ripped open her red dress.

"Oh, I know. And that's exactly what I love most about you."

Breathless and tangled up in each other, Bellamy opened her eyes with some effort.

Fraser was completely lost in the moment, pushing her to the edge without a hint of mercy.

To outsiders, Fraser always seemed collected, polite-someone with absolute self-control.

But this... this unhinged side of him? Only she got to see that.

This version of Fraser belonged to her, and her alone.

Only in moments like these did Bellamy feel like she wasn't all alone in the world.

*****

After the wild night at the party, reports about Fraser-now the freshly appointed CEO of the Branwell Corporation-were everywhere.

The headlines were all the same: [Ivy League double PhDs in Psychology and Economics]; [made waves on Wall Street as a star executive during his studies overseas; [ridiculously good-looking, poised, young and successful].

He'd basically become the most sought-after bachelor in Cavelle City. Girls across the city were losing their minds.

Bellamy, muscles aching all over the next morning, rubbed her eyes and saw the news flash across her phone.