The lock on my bedroom door clicked open with ease. Caspian stepped inside, not even bothering to pretend he hadn't just picked it.

"Get out!" I yelled, my eyes red and swollen from days of crying.

"I learned how to do that when I was living on the streets," he said with a small, unamused smile, as if that explained everything. He sat down on the edge of my bed, the gift box in his hands.

He sat in silence for a long time before he spoke. "When I was a kid, I had nothing. No one. Then I found Lyra. She was just a baby, abandoned like me. She became my reason to live. My only family."

He paused, his dark eyes fixed on me. "And then your father found us. He gave me a home. A future. I owe him everything. I would do anything for him, for you."

He opened the gift box. "But you have to understand. Lyra is my sister. She's all I have from my old life. I can't let anyone hurt her. I need you to tolerate her, Seraphina. That's the only thing I ask."

For a moment, his words, his vulnerability, almost reached me. A flicker of the old, foolish Seraphina stirred in my heart.

Then he said the word "sister," and the illusion shattered.

Brothers don't kiss their sisters the way he kissed Lyra in the garden. Brothers don't look at their sisters with that kind of raw hunger.

He was a liar.

"So, after we're married," I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "will she still come first? Will your 'sister' always be your priority?"

"Yes," he answered without a shred of hesitation. "She will always be my first priority. But I will be good to you, Seraphina. I will cherish you." He paused. "As much as I can."

I let out a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob. "As much as you can." All my unhappiness, all my pain, stemmed from him. From my one-sided love for him.

I didn't say anything else. There was no point.

Just then, his phone rang. It was Lyra. He answered immediately, his voice softening. "I'll be right there." He hung up and stood to leave.

"This is for you," he said, placing the gift box on my nightstand. It was a cheap replica of the "Starfall Sapphire," a gaudy imitation that was a direct insult. He left without another word.

Inside the box was the necklace. A simple, elegant diamond pendant. It was beautiful, but it wasn't the "Starfall Sapphire." It wasn't what I had wanted.

It was a consolation prize. A symbol of how much he was willing to give me: something, but not everything. Not the best.

I picked up the box, walked over to the trash can, and dropped it in without a second thought.

I deserve a man who would give me the world, not one who would ask me to settle for second place.

My 21st birthday arrived a month later. It was to be the biggest social event of the year, a gala where my father would officially announce my engagement.

I stood in front of the mirror, wearing a custom-made haute couture gown. I looked like a princess, but I felt a pang of regret that I wasn't wearing the "Starfall Sapphire."

Just then, a butler entered my dressing room holding a large, beautifully wrapped box.

"This just arrived for you, Miss Ashworth. From Mr. Blackwood."

My heart skipped a beat. Silas.

"Mr. Blackwood sends his apologies for not being able to find the 'Starfall Sapphire'," the butler explained. "The current owner refused to sell. So he commissioned this for you instead. He hopes it will suffice."

I opened the box. Nestled on a bed of black velvet was a breathtaking set of jewelry. A necklace, earrings, and a bracelet, all featuring enormous pigeon's blood rubies, the rarest and most valuable in the world. They glowed with an inner fire, a deep, passionate red. With it was a card. “Rubies symbolize a fire that belongs to no one but yourself. It has always been yours.”

A genuine smile, the first in a long time, blossomed on my face. I put on the jewels. They felt warm against my skin.

I finally felt like a queen. And I knew, with absolute certainty, that I had made the right choice.

As I was about to leave my room, I ran into Lyra. She was also dressed for the party, but her eyes were fixed on the rubies around my neck. Her smile faltered.

"Those are... magnificent," she said, her voice tight. "Did Caspian give them to you?"

I brushed past her without a word.

Her eyes flashed with a look of pure hatred. "He doesn't love you, you know," she hissed at my back. "He's only marrying you to repay your father."

She stepped in front of me, blocking my path, and held up her phone. "He'll never touch you the way he touches me." She then sent a message to my phone. "And do you really think what he keeps in his private safe are pictures of you? No, darling. It's a portrait of me he's painted every year since I was a child."

She pressed play. On the screen, a video began. It was her and Caspian, tangled together in bed, their bodies moving in a rhythm of pure lust.

"He's never looked at you like that, has he?" she taunted, her voice cruel. "You should pick one of the other Fellows. Mateo, maybe? Or Ronan? I've had them all. Ronan is particularly... athletic." She laughed, a low, vulgar sound. "I can give you a full report on their performance if you like."

The filth pouring from her mouth was more than I could bear.

My hand moved on its own. The sharp crack of my palm connecting with her cheek echoed in the hallway.

"You're disgusting," I spat, my voice trembling with rage.

A cold presence behind me made me freeze. I turned slowly and met the icy, furious gaze of Caspian.

He didn't say a word. He just stood there, looking at me, and I knew. I knew he would make me pay for this.

The entire birthday gala passed in a blur of anxiety. I smiled, I mingled, I accepted birthday wishes, but my mind was in a knot of fear. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Caspian's quiet, calculated revenge.

But nothing happened. The party was a spectacular success.

Finally, the moment arrived. My father stood on the stage, ready to announce my future husband. The ballroom fell silent, a thousand guests holding their breath.

"It has to be Caspian Vance," someone whispered nearby. "He's the only one worthy of her."

"What about Silas Blackwood?" another voice countered. "He's been chasing her for years. Poor guy never stood a chance."

I couldn't help the small, triumphant smile that touched my lips. I glanced across the room at Silas. He caught my eye and gave me a look of such deep, unwavering love it took my breath away. He raised his hand and signed to me, a little joke between us: Don't you dare change your mind.

I laughed, a real, happy laugh.

And then the world exploded.

The giant screen behind the stage, which had been displaying a beautiful montage of my life, flickered and changed. An image of my bedroom appeared. It was me.

I was holding one of Caspian's shirts, pressing it to my face, my eyes closed in a state of pathetic, lovesick bliss. The video continued, showing me in my most private moments, touching myself, whispering his name.

"I love you, Caspian," my voice echoed through the silent ballroom. "I love you so much."

A wave of absolute horror washed over me. I turned, my eyes desperately seeking Caspian in the crowd. He stood there, his face a cold, blank mask.

Tears streamed down my face. "How could you?" I mouthed, my heart shattering into a million pieces. "How could you be so cruel?"

"Turn it off!" my father roared, his face purple with rage. "Somebody turn that damn thing off!"

But the video kept playing. The system was locked.

Silas, seeing my devastation, didn't hesitate. He charged the stage, picked up a heavy champagne stand, and smashed the projector to pieces.

"Find out who did this!" my father bellowed, his voice shaking. "I want them found!"

One of his business partners tried to calm him down. "Charles, it's just a young girl's crush. It's clear who she's in love with. Announce the engagement to Caspian. It will smooth everything over."

My father's face was pale. He knew. He knew I had chosen Silas. He looked at Silas, a desperate hope in his eyes.

Silas walked to my side, wrapping his strong arms around me, shielding me from the prying eyes of the crowd. He held me tight, a solid, unshakeable anchor in my swirling nightmare.

Then he turned to face the stunned guests, his voice ringing with authority and fury.

"Seraphina Ashworth is my fiancée," he announced, his voice booming through the hall. "And I swear to God, whoever is responsible for this, I will find you. And I will destroy you."

The crowd gasped.

Across the room, the faces of Caspian Vance and the other Ashworth Fellows were ashen. They stared at me, at Silas, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief. This was not how their plan was supposed to end.

Caspian and Ronan looked the most stunned. Their faces were white with shock.

"Is this a joke?" Caspian finally managed to say, his voice tight. "Seraphina, are you doing this to make me angry?"

Ronan stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Seraphina, why him? I can be whatever you want me to be. You can use me, hurt me, anything. Just don't choose him."

His performance was so convincing that a wave of murmurs went through the crowd.

"Wow, he really loves her."

"To be willing to be her plaything... that's true love."

"What a shame. She's breaking his heart."

I almost laughed. I stepped away from Silas and faced Ronan directly. "You love me? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I would die for you, Seraphina."

"Really?" I asked, my voice dangerously sweet. "Because I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, 'Why is it our job to cheer her up? I'd much rather be with Lyra.' Or was that someone else?"

The color drained from Ronan's face. He stammered, "I... I don't know what you're talking about. Someone must be spreading lies!" He looked around desperately. "I swear, Seraphina, I love you!"

His acting was flawless. He almost looked like he believed it himself.

"Is that so?" I said, pulling a small digital recorder from my clutch. I pressed a button.

Ronan's own voice filled the ballroom, loud and clear. "Why is it our job to cheer her up? I'd much rather be with Lyra."

The room fell into a dead silence. Ronan's face was a mess of horror and disbelief.

"That," I said, my voice as cold as steel, "was you. This morning. So please, stop the act. It's pathetic."

Ronan's eyes welled with tears as he struggled for words.

Before he could speak, Silas strode forward and punched him squarely in the jaw. Ronan crumpled to the floor.

"No one," Silas snarled, standing over him, "insults my fiancée." He looked up, his eyes sweeping over the other Fellows. "I love her more than any of you ever could."

Caspian's jaw tightened at the word "fiancée." He stepped forward, trying to regain control. "Seraphina, stop this foolishness. You know you want to marry me. We are meant to be."

He tried to give me a reassuring smile. "I will cherish you. You will have everything you desire." He lowered his voice. "Don't ruin the relationship between our families over a little tantrum."