Florence loomed above me, his tone cutting like steel. “You’ve got to stop treating Carolyn like she’s some sort of exile, Aimee. She’s your sister.”

My eyes widened. The nerve. My sister? The same girl who had slithered her way into every part of my life, dismantling everything that once brought me joy. And now he expected me to be gentle with her?

A dry, humorless laugh escaped me. “I’m the one isolating her?” I asked, my voice trembling, barely keeping the storm inside at bay. “Are you actually listening to yourself, Florence? I’m the one who’s constantly being pushed aside. Every time there’s trouble, you don’t even glance in my direction. You go running to her.”

His shoulders tensed, jaw clenched. But I wasn’t finished—not even close.

“You always leave me behind,” I continued, louder now, each word a blow. “You guard her like she’s yours to protect. Like she’s more than family to you. So tell me, Florence—what is she to you?”

Florence’s eyes flicked toward Carolyn, who stood quietly by the doorway, wearing the tattered remnants of our mother’s dress like it was her own. His momentary pause was more telling than any confession. For one breathless second, I thought he might finally come clean.

But he didn’t.

He turned back, face set in stone. “She’s like a sister to me. That’s all. I don’t know what kind of insane fantasy you’ve let take over, but you sound paranoid. Delusional, even.”

My heart twisted. He was lying. I knew it. I felt it deep in my chest, like a pulse that wouldn't go away. And before I could answer, Carolyn stepped closer, her voice laced with false concern.

“You’re reading too much into things, Aimee,” she said sweetly. “Florence and I are just… close. Nothing more.”

Their deception came so effortlessly, so smoothly, it made me sick. How could they lie like that? How could they pretend nothing had happened—when everything had?

Blinking back tears, I turned to Carolyn and forced a smile that tasted like ashes. “Well, since you’ve got the dress now… happy early birthday.”

The slight flinch in her eyes was satisfying, but I didn’t wait to see her react. I walked past them, chin high, each step fueled by fury and heartbreak.

The cold air outside struck my face as I stepped into the garden. I sucked in a breath, trying to still the chaos in my chest. The night was still, broken only by the wind rustling the leaves. In that moment, I imagined disappearing—leaving all of this betrayal behind me.

“Aimee?”

I turned to find Seth approaching, his expression calmer than I’d seen in ages. The fire from earlier had cooled, replaced by something quieter. Concern.

“You alright?” he asked, stopping just short of me.

I shook my head slowly. “No. Not even close.”

He moved closer, one hand gently resting on my shoulder. “What happened?”

I looked at him—really looked at him—and for the first time in days, something inside me eased. Seth, in his own flawed way, had always looked out for me. Maybe he was the only one who ever truly had.

“I need your help,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

His brow furrowed. “With what?”

I took a breath that shook on the way out. “I need you to pretend you’re the father of my baby.”

He froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, stronger now. “I can’t let Florence find out. If he knows, he’ll use the baby against me. I can’t let that happen.”

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth. “Aimee… that’s a huge ask. Do you realize what people will assume?”

“Let them,” I snapped. “Let them whisper. Let them believe whatever they want. We both know the truth—and we both know who the real liars are.”

He stopped and turned toward me, something softening in his eyes. He looked like he was still weighing it all, but there was a flicker of understanding behind the conflict.

“You’re really serious,” he murmured.

“I am,” I said, voice cracking. “I have to protect this child. Please, Seth.”

There was a long pause as he studied me. Then, finally, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it. But we need to figure out the details. Carefully.”

Relief hit me so hard it made me sway. I gave him a faint, trembling smile. “Thank you.”

That night, I returned to my room, mind buzzing with the plan we’d pieced together. It was messy, fragile, but it was a beginning.

But the moment I pushed the door open, my breath caught in my throat.

Florence sat on the edge of the bed, his back slightly hunched. In his hand was the thing I’d prayed he wouldn’t find. The pregnancy test.

He looked up slowly, his gaze unreadable, sharp.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked, voice low. “Is it mine?”

The air grew thick, suffocating, as my pulse raced in my ears. This was it—the point of no return.

I stood tall, locked eyes with him. “Yes. I’m pregnant.”

His expression barely changed, but I caught the flicker in his eyes. I didn’t let him speak.

“But it’s not yours,” I added firmly.

The silence that followed felt like an explosion in slow motion.

“It’s Seth’s,” I lied, each syllable stabbing me from the inside.

Florence’s mask cracked. His eyes darkened with shock, confusion, something raw.

And in that moment, for the first time, I had control. For the first time, he didn’t know what to say.

And it felt like power.

I stood by the kitchen sink, my hands submerged in warm, soapy water as I scrubbed at a stubborn plate. The sound of glass clinking and light chatter filled the air as the maids hurried around, adding finishing touches to the lavish birthday celebration. Carolyn’s special day. Florence had spared no expense—gleaming crystal chandeliers, gold-trimmed tablecloths, and a cake so large, it could easily serve a small town.

He treated her like royalty, like she was the one meant to rule this territory. Me? I was nothing more than a shadow in the background, a mere servant to them both.

But I refused to let it get to me. Not when Seth and I were working on something much bigger. Every insult, every slight would be paid back in time.

"Still at it, Aimee?" Carolyn’s voice cut through the air, sharp and mocking.

I turned to see her leaning casually against the doorway, her red silk dress clinging to her curves. She looked every bit the part of the pampered princess, a smug smirk on her face that made my skin crawl.

"Such a good sister," she cooed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Helping with my party. Truly selfless."

I ignored her, dunking another dish into the water. She thrived on trying to get under my skin.

But then she took it too far. "I can’t say I blame Florence for treating me better than you," she sneered, lowering her voice. "I mean, look at you—plain, pathetic, and desperate."

My hands stiffened around the sponge. Anger surged up, but I shoved it back down. I spun around, locking eyes with her.

"At least I’m not a spoiled brat who needs constant attention to feel important," I shot back, my tone icy but cutting.

Her smirk faltered briefly, but she quickly regained composure. Before she could fire back, Florence appeared, his towering figure placing itself between us like a wall.

"Aimee," he said, his voice cold and commanding. "Don’t start something."

My blood boiled, but I forced a tight smile. "Maybe you should keep your dog on a leash," I retorted, sweet as venom. "She’s the one barking."

Florence’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t say another word. Carolyn huffed in annoyance and stormed off, her heels clicking angrily against the polished floor. I grabbed a towel, wiped my hands, and barely spared Florence a glance as I headed upstairs.

At the far end of the hallway, Seth stood by the window, his gaze fixed on the crowd below. Carolyn and Florence were easy to spot, their laughter and flirtation cutting through the air even from here.

Seth’s posture was tense, fists clenched at his sides.

"Still watching them?" I asked quietly as I approached.

He turned, his face dark. "It’s hard not to."

I nodded in understanding. "Come on," I said, motioning toward my room. "Let’s talk."

Inside, I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. Seth began pacing the small room, his frustration palpable.

"I want to expose them," I said, my voice firm and unwavering.

Seth stopped, his brows furrowing. "Now?"

I hesitated, the weight of our father’s deteriorating health pressing down on me. "No," I confessed, sighing. "It’s not the right time. Not with your father in such bad shape. We can’t risk adding to his stress."

Seth’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "You’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch them flaunt it like this."

His voice was bitter, and when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, my heart sank.

"I was going to propose to her tonight," he said, opening the box to reveal a sparkling diamond ring. "For her birthday."

The words hit me like a punch in the stomach. Seth’s heartbreak was raw, and suddenly, my own pain seemed small in comparison.

"I’m sorry," I said quietly, stepping closer to him. "But maybe this is a sign she wasn’t the one for you. You deserve someone better, Seth. Someone who won’t betray you."

He gave me a sad smile. "You’re kind, Aimee. Even when you’re in pain, you think of others."

His eyes lingered on me, and suddenly, the air between us shifted. A subtle but undeniable tension crackled in the space, and my pulse quickened.

"Seth…" I began, unsure of what I was feeling.

But before I could finish, there was a sharp knock at the door.

We both froze, and when the door opened, Florence stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable and dark.

"What are you two doing?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The room fell silent, and my heart raced as I met Florence’s gaze, his eyes darting between Seth and me. I knew that look—he wasn’t just suspicious; he was furious.

And I couldn’t help but enjoy the jealousy I saw in his eyes.

Florence stood in the doorway, his gaze darting between Seth and me, his jaw tight with suppressed anger. I couldn't help but find it amusing as I noticed his fists balling at his sides. Was he really feeling jealous? It was almost laughable, considering he was the one showing off Carolyn like some kind of trophy.

After a long, tense pause, Florence growled, "What the hell are you two doing in here?"

To his credit, Seth didn’t flinch. "We were just talking," he answered calmly, his hands slipping into his pockets.

Florence scoffed, clearly unimpressed. "In a bedroom?"

I let out a short laugh and stepped forward. "Oh? Is it really so strange that I’m having a private conversation with Seth?" I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. "Funny, I don’t recall you having an issue when you talk to my sister alone."

Florence stiffened, his expression faltering for a moment. It was enough to silence him, and a small sense of victory flared within me.

I saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes, and the slight part of his lips as if he wanted to argue but couldn’t. Satisfaction spread through me like warmth. He had nothing to say.

Instead of continuing to argue, Florence raked a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "The party's starting soon," he muttered, clearly trying to change the subject. "You two should get ready."

Without another word, he spun on his heel and stormed out.

I couldn’t help but smirk at his retreating figure, but beside me, Seth sighed heavily. "Aimee, you shouldn’t provoke him like that," he warned, his voice soft but serious.

I turned to face him, my amusement slowly fading. "Why not? He needs to feel the humiliation that we do."

Seth rubbed his temple in frustration. "Florence isn't just some arrogant Alpha—he’s calculated. If you keep pushing him, he’ll find a way to turn this around on us."

I lifted my chin, resolute. "Let him try. I know exactly how he operates." I met Seth's gaze, my voice firm. "I'm done playing nice. He thinks he can stroll all over me while flaunting my sister like a prize? Not anymore."

Seth hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Just be careful, Aimee."

By the time we reached the grand hall, it was already teeming with guests. The golden glow from the chandeliers bathed the room in warmth, and the hum of conversations created a low buzz. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes, wine, and the delicate fragrance of fresh flowers.

I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious in my simple, understated dress. It was nothing like the extravagant gowns the other women were wearing, and I knew it. But honestly, I didn’t care. If Carolyn thought I’d shrink under her superior shine, she was in for a big surprise.

And there she was, stepping toward me with that smug grin of hers. Her red gown shimmered in the light, hugging her curves perfectly.

"Why do you look like an old woman?" she sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. "Seriously, Aimee, you’re embarrassing."

I met her gaze without flinching. "We’ll see who’s more embarrassing tonight," I said smoothly, a small smile tugging at my lips.

For a brief moment, her smirk faltered, but she quickly recovered, flipping her hair and sashaying off.

I let out a breath, pushing down the irritation rising within me. Not tonight, Carolyn. You won’t get to me tonight.

The evening sped by in a blur of music, laughter, and idle chatter. I sat at my table, nursing a glass of wine, my eyes occasionally drifting over to where Florence was spinning my sister across the dance floor. Their laughter rang louder than the music, their movements perfectly synchronized.

I ignored the way my stomach churned.

But I couldn’t ignore the whispers around me.

"Isn’t she the Alpha’s mate?"

"Why’s he dancing with Carolyn like that?"

"Poor thing... He barely even acknowledges her."

The pity was almost palpable, and I hated every second of it.

Just as I was about to spiral, Seth slid into the seat beside me. "Dance with me."

I blinked, surprised. "What?"

He nodded toward the dance floor. "You heard me. Dance with me."

I laughed, a breathy sound. "Seth, I’m terrible at dancing."

His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile. "Then I’ll teach you."

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to make a spectacle of myself, but then my eyes landed on Florence again. He was still twirling Carolyn around, but this time, his gaze was on me.

And just like that, I made up my mind.

"Okay," I murmured, standing up.

Seth took my hand, leading me to the center of the room. He placed one hand on my waist, the other taking mine.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered, and I nodded.

At first, I was clumsy—awkward and unsure of my movements. But Seth was patient, guiding me with ease, and before long, the music took over. For the first time that night, I wasn’t thinking about Florence.

I was enjoying myself.

Then, I caught sight of Florence again.

His face was unreadable, but his grip on Carolyn tightened. His jaw clenched, and his eyes... they were filled with something dark, something close to jealousy.

As soon as the dance ended, Florence was there, his presence looming over us.

"You need to keep your distance from my brother," he said in a low, dangerous tone, only for me to hear.

I let out a soft, sarcastic laugh. "Why? You think you can tell me who I can and can’t spend time with?"

His glare intensified. "I’m your mate, Aimee."

I tilted my head, my amusement turning to ice. "Are you?" I met his gaze, unwavering. "Because from where I stand, it looks like you care more about Carolyn than you do about me."

Florence’s lips pressed into a thin line, his face flushing with what looked dangerously close to shame.

I took a step closer, lowering my voice to a near whisper. "If I should stay away from Seth, maybe you should stay away from Carolyn."

His expression hardened.

But before he could respond, Carolyn’s voice rang out across the hall.

"Everyone, may I have your attention?"

The crowd went silent, all eyes turning toward her.

And in that moment, I knew—whatever she was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.