Picking it up felt like handling something rotten, but throwing it away just felt wasteful.

And wouldn't you know it? Right then, I got a front-row seat to Yara and Malcolm tangled all over each other.

Naturally? I wasn't about to let that slide without making a whole thing of it.

Malcolm showed up fast; the soft rumble of a car pulling up outside drifted through the living room.

He stepped inside, his eyes sweeping the space until they landed on me, and they lingered just a beat too long.

"Hello, Mrs. Dunn."

Malcolm greeted Olivia with a polite nod of his head.

Claire nodded back, just a small tilt. "Malcolm, have a seat." She gestured for the staff to bring in coffee and snacks.

Malcolm settled in beside his mom and asked, "What did you call me over for, Mom?"

"How dare you even ask that?" His mother's voice boiled over with exasperation, and she swatted his back hard. "Did you upset Jolie earlier today?"

Malcolm flicked a glance at my downcast face, searching for any hint of what I was feeling… and came up empty.

He wracked his brain, dead sure he hadn't done anything to piss me off. All he could do was shake his head. "I didn't…"

The words barely left his mouth before my thoughts roared back to what I'd been thinking back at the office:

[Didn't he do it? All men are liars. You can't believe a single word that comes out of their mouths—they're pros at deceiving people.]

[Does he really think he can deny he was holding Yara in his office five minutes ago? Or that she wasn't sobbing in his arms? How does he even have the balls to lie to my face when I'm standing right here as a witness?]

My face stayed perfectly calm, but inside my head, a hurricane of rage and hurt was spinning out of control.

Malcolm froze a little, his gaze pinning to my face.

Putting two and two together between the dark look on my face and how urgent his mom had been to get him over here, Malcolm rubbed his temples. His voice came out deep, strained as he tried to explain: "I told you, it's just a misunderstanding."

I kept my face blank as anything, but on the inside I was rolling my eyes so hard they almost got stuck:

[What kind of misunderstanding has an engaged man holding another woman who's already made it clear she wants him?]

At the same time, his mother frowned. "Malcolm, Jolie saw it with her own two eyes," she said firmly. "You need to tell Jolie exactly what's going on between you and that Yara girl."

Malcolm threw a heavy, somber glance my way where I sat next to Olivia.

I felt his eyes on me, and immediately put on my sweet, fragile little act.

[What are you staring at, you two-timing smooth talker? Trying to juggle both of us at the same time!]

Malcolm sighed. "Mom, nothing happened between me and Yara. She slipped and fell right into my arms by accident."

Again, I rolled my eyes internally:

[Really? Of every single place she could fall, it just had to be right into your arms? How convenient for you two.]

"Is that really all that happened?" Olivia asked, her tone thick with doubt.

Malcolm's eyes didn't leave my smooth, unblemished face. "Yes. That's all."

Claire nodded and turned to me for my take. "Jolie, does Malcolm's explanation satisfy you?"

I put on my best shy, hesitant act and glanced up through my lashes softy. "If it's just a misunderstanding, I trust Malcolm."

"I believe him. Yara fell into his arms by accident, and Malcolm was just being a gentleman catching her."

On the inside, I was cringing so hard at my own sickly sweet tone:

[Ugh. That was so nauseating I could throw up.]

Malcolm let out a deep sigh.

Claire was over the moon to have such an understanding future daughter-in-law. She patted my hand warmly and grinned.

"What do you think, Olivia?" Claire Salazar asked—even though I'd already forgiven Malcolm, she still wanted reassurance from her friend.

Olivia Dunn didn't think much of it. Once the misunderstanding was cleared up, it was no big deal.

"Malcolm, Jolie is such a wonderful girl. I like her more than I can say," Olivia said. "She's the only one I want as a daughter-in-law for this family. No one else will ever do!"

"You need to treat her right, you hear me? Can you promise me that?"

With a sigh, Malcolm nodded, giving in to his mother's demand.

With the silly little misunderstanding sorted out so easily, Claire was glowing. She waved a hand, giddy as she instructed the staff to prepare a dinner with spiced honey cake and pulled pork.

She warmly insisted Olivia and I stay for dinner.

"That's okay, Mrs. Salazar," I hurried to decline. "Earlier, Malcolm and I never got around to eating lunch." I lifted my gaze to Malcolm, letting my expression go soft and affectionate, a sharp contrast to his serious face. "I'd rather go out to eat with him instead."

Malcolm frowned, holding my gaze.

I smiled sweetly, my eyes crinkling like little crescent moons. "Isn't that right, Malcolm?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded silently.

"Oh, I get it," Claire chuckled. "I won't keep you two then. Olivia and I will just have dinner here—we won't intrude on your date night."

After we said our goodbyes, I was already in Malcolm's car, staring out the passenger window.

"Where do you want to eat?" Malcolm asked, turning the key in the ignition.

I thought it over for a second, then gave him an address.

It wasn't far from the Salazar place, right downtown, but with rush hour traffic, we couldn't go fast.

Malcolm drove one-handed, sneaking a quick look at me out of the corner of his eye.

As night fell, the city lights started flicking on one by one.

Neon signs along the street glowed and flickered, painting shifting shadows across my face that made me look almost dreamlike.

The car rolled steady, and a soft breeze blew in through the open window, lifting a strand of hair off my cheek and drifting it over my eyes for a second.

Malcolm snapped his attention back to the road and took a deep drag off the cigarette between his fingers.

He'd grown up with me, and I'd always been the gold standard of beauty to him—his perfect dream girl.

If only I hadn't spent those years living in Europe… and Yara, who looked so damn much like me…

Malcolm's brow furrowed as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

I felt what he was doing, frowned, and rolled my window all the way down.

I shifted a little, leaning half out to get a breath of air that wasn't thick with cigarette smoke.

[Seriously? Why do you have to smoke in a tiny closed car? Can't he ever think about anyone but himself?]

Malcolm froze mid-inhale, stuck between exhaling the smoke he'd already pulled in and holding it in his lungs.

[He's really over here smoking when his poor little girlfriend just got kicked out by her landlord and has nowhere to go. Shouldn't he be rushing over to help her right now?]

Malcolm's brain spun for a second, then he caught on who my "beloved" was talking about.

"Jolie…"

Right as he was about to ask me what I meant, a jolt of hot excitement shot through my chest:

[There she is! Finally found you! You're so hard to track down, Yara!]

My eyes lit up, locking dead on the forlorn figure outside the window.

Malcolm followed my gaze, and there on the sidewalk was Yara's thin, heartbroken silhouette.

She was dragging a suitcase, hefting a huge duffel bag, and wandering aimlessly down the street.

I reined in my excitement and snuck a quick glance at the driver's seat, racking my brain for how to nudge Malcolm into noticing her on his own.

[Stop the damn car and get her in already! What are you even waiting for?]

Before I could cook up a plan, the car slammed to a stop at the curb. Malcolm's gaze was already locked on Yara.

The second the car rolled to a stop, Malcolm unclipped his seatbelt in a flash, threw open the door, and marched straight for Yara like he had a mission.

I stayed put in the passenger seat, comfortable as can be, watching his urgent strides in the side mirror and shaking my head in amused disbelief.

That’s the unarguable magic the heroine has over the hero, isn’t it?

I’d been scanning the sidewalk myself, dead set on spotting Yara first. But somehow, Malcolm’d picked her out of the crowd of cars and pedestrians before I even had. Makes you wonder if there’s some invisible magnetic pull between those two—otherwise, finding her on this chaotic, packed street would’ve been damn near impossible.

In this story, Yara’s an orphan who worked her ass off to claw her way into a position at Malcolm’s company. She put in endless hours, and over time, she fell hard for her boss. Then she found out Malcolm’s kindness only existed because she looked exactly like someone he’d loved and lost. Heartbroken, she couldn’t bear to keep working there, so she handed in her resignation.

Malcolm begged and pleaded for her to stay, but Yara wouldn’t budge. After leaving her letter on his desk, she headed back to her tiny rented apartment. But when it rains, it pours—she just lost her job, and then her landlord kicked her out over some personal nonsense. No lease, no compensation, and he didn’t even give her time to hunt for a new place. So there she was, dragging her suitcase behind her, wandering the streets alone.

Funny thing is, I’d dragged Malcolm out for dinner that night, and we just stumbled right into her. And Malcolm? Couldn’t have cared less that his fiancée was still sitting in the car waiting for him. He swept Yara right up and was dead set on taking her straight to his place.

Curious as hell, I watched them from the passenger seat through the mirror. They looked stunning together, perfect for each other. Nothing like me—the so-called villain who could never hold a candle to her.

Sensing the timing couldn’t have been more perfect, I smoothed out my expression, getting ready to put on my big performance: wronged, indignant, furious. Showtime.

I pushed open the door and marched straight toward them, fake outrage burning in my steps.

“Malcolm, what the hell are you two doing?”

When she saw me, Yara yanks her hand out of his grip so fast, eyes dropping to the concrete, lips pressed tight. Malcolm’s face went stony, and he glares at me hard enough to cut glass.

Wait, did I know Yara’d be here? Was I somehow behind the eviction? I remembered—Pearl Apartments are owned by the Dunn family, and that’s exactly where Yara was living…

I stepped closer, ready to play my part, but Malcolm’s sharp, icy gaze threw me off for half a second.

[What’s his problem? I didn’t do anything wrong! Why’s he staring at me like I kicked his puppy?]

Malcolm shifted his focus back to Yara, softening his tone. “Yara, it’s late. Come with me. This is for your own good.”

My outer expression flared with fake anger, but inside I was screaming:

[Yes! Exactly that! Hurry up, take her back, cook her dinner, let this thing finally bloom between you two!]

But out loud I snapped, “Malcolm, what are you talking about? You’re taking this shameless woman to your house? I won’t let you get away with this!”

Malcolm frowned, clearly confused by how over the top I was being.

“No thank you, Malcolm,” Yara murmured, rubbing the faint red mark his grip left on her wrist, glancing at me warily. “I don’t want to be a bother. I… I already found a place to stay.”

[She’s lying. She hasn’t found jack. She’s gonna end up sleeping on the sidewalk tonight if you let her go!]

Malcolm just stared, quiet.

He glanced at my red-faced, visibly angry act, then spoke in that soft, steady way he does. “It’s no trouble. You can stay with me until you get back on your feet.”

“Malcolm!” I clutched my chest like my heart just broke, all wide-eyed disbelief. “How could you do this to me? Did you forget what you promised Mom?”

He’d promised Mom he’d take good care of me, after all. A wave of that stupid obligation washed over him, and his frown deepened. Yeah, it was wrong to bring another woman home when he was engaged to me—but he couldn’t just leave Yara out on the street, could he?

“I won’t let you down,” Malcolm said, all serious. “But Yara was my secretary. It’s my job to make sure she’s okay.”

The meaning was clear as day: he was going to fix her problem, no matter what.

I clenched my fists, my eyes sparkling under my fake scowl:

[Let me down! It’s totally fine! I don’t care! Just be good to Yara, that’s all that matters!]

[Aaah, my OTP is finally getting together! This is everything I’ve ever wanted!]

Malcolm just blinked, confused as hell. Wait—she’s shipping me with Yara?

Even with my internal screaming of joy, I kept my wronged act going full force. “Malcolm, Yara resigned! She’s not your employee anymore. Why do you have to be this nice to her?”

Malcolm’s eyes dropped to my fists, crumpling the fabric of my dress. He paused a second, then said firmly, “I never accepted her resignation. She’s still my secretary.”

“Malcolm!” I stomped my foot, fake frustration bleeding into my raised voice. “I’m your fiancée! You’re really going to let another woman stay at your place when I’m right here?”

[Yes! That’s perfect, keep going! Just take her back already!]

Malcolm went quiet again. This woman says one thing to my face and means the exact opposite. What is going on with her?

He lifted his head, that dark, intense gaze pinning me in place.

[What are you waiting for? Just go already! Do I have to spell every single step out for you?]

He turned away, jaw set in a hard line, and led a quiet Yara back toward the car.

“Malcolm,” I tugged on his arm, my face set in stubborn lines with just a hint of fake pleading. “I won’t let you take her.”

He looked down at me, at my bright eyes all wide and pleading, and for a split second he felt a twinge of reluctance. Maybe he should just put Yara up in a hotel instead, he thought.

He paused, opening his mouth to suggest just that, when he’d have heard my internal cheer:

[A real man doesn’t hold back! If you love her, take her home, show the whole world she’s the one for you!]

Malcolm went quiet.

He immediately tossed that hotel idea right out the window.

Keeping his stony expression, he shook my hand off his arm, and led a silent Yara straight to the car.

“Malcolm…”

My voice trailed off after him, all weak and wronged, and Malcolm paused.

[You two hurry up and go already! I don’t wanna miss my dinner rolls—that place gets packed, remember?]

Malcolm’s gaze swept over me, cold as ice, and I froze, confused for a second what I’d done wrong. He just climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled off with Yara before I could say another word.

I pouted, still confused about that last look he gave me.

Come on. I’m over here playing the bad guy just to get my favorite couple together. The least they could do is be grateful, right?

I treated myself to a rich, spicy pasta at a cute little bistro all on my own, then caught a late movie before heading back to my parents’ place. My phone stayed dead silent all evening—eerily so. It wasn’t surprising, though. Even if Malcolm doesn’t remember me anymore, I still have to stick to the script. I have to live through the heartbreak, I have to mess up all the sweet little moments between him and Yara.

Before I walked in the door, I smoothed my face into the right expression, forcing it to look as broken-hearted and gloomy as my role calls for.

Stepping into the living room, I found my parents—Olivia and Gustavo—getting ready to call it a night. When they saw I’d come back alone, that curiosity and worry immediately pricked at them.

"Jolie, honey, what’s going on with you tonight?" my mom asked, craning her neck to peek behind me hopefully. When she didn’t spot Malcolm’s familiar frame, she added, "You came home alone? Where on earth is Malcolm?"

My chest heavy, I tossed my purse onto the couch and wrapped my arms around her, letting the frustration spill out. "Mom, don’t even get me started. I was with Malcolm today, and we ran into Yara. He just dumped me right there on the street and took off after her."

"That Malcolm boy, how dare he pull something like that?" Dad frowned deep, his displeasure plain as day.

Mom paused, thinking it over for a minute. "Yara… Is that the woman you mentioned earlier, the one crying all over Malcolm?" she asked, her tone serious.

I nodded, my throat tight with that wronged ache. "Yeah, that’s her."

"Unbelievable," Gustavo slammed his palm down on the coffee table. "You’re engaged. He’s supposed to act like it. How can Malcolm treat you this way?"

I nodded right along with him. "Exactly! He left me, his own fiancée, standing alone on the street just to run off with another woman."

This wasn’t just an insult to me—it was a slap in the face to both our families, who’d arranged this engagement together.

"Mom, Dad," I sniffled, fanning the flames a little more, "you have to stand with me on this."

"Don’t you worry, honey," Olivia soothed me. "I’ll talk to Malcolm’s family first thing tomorrow."

As their only cherished daughter, who’d never been disrespected like this before, of course my parents weren’t going to let Malcolm walk all over me. True to her word, Mom called me the next morning, urging me to head straight over to the Salazar family home.

I was a little caught off guard—I hadn’t expected things to move this fast.

Malcolm had disrespected everyone by dragging another woman home without a single care for my feelings, and my parents had made sure his family knew every last detail.

When I walked into the Salazar living room, Malcolm was already standing there, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

"Malcolm, how could you do something so hurtful to Jolie right in front of her?" Malcolm’s mom snapped, clearly fuming. "Do you even remember what you promised me yesterday?"

He stayed totally calm. "What I promised you doesn’t get in the way of helping a colleague."

That almost sent her over the edge. She tugged hard on his sleeve, reminding him my mom was right there in the room—he could at least pretend to feel bad.

Glancing over at my mom, who wasn’t looking any happier than his own was, Malcolm softened his tone. "Olivia, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left Jolie alone on the street. It won’t happen again."

Even after his little apology, Mom’s face stayed just as stiff as before.

He’d totally side-stepped any mention of Yara, like bringing her home to the family estate was no big deal at all. In his mind, he was just doing a coworker a favor.

"Malcolm, fix that attitude," his mom ordered, clearly fed up with him.

Her irritation was obvious, and it just kept growing with how dismissive he was being.

"Malcolm!" she finally blew up, furious at his constant indifference when this was such a serious matter.

Malcolm stood there, a faint frown on his face, watching his mom get angrier and angrier.

She couldn’t hold back anymore—she reached for that old wooden spoon she’d used to discipline him since he was a kid, ready to knock some sense into him right then and there.

My mom stepped in just in time, stopping her before she could move, and called me over to them.

When I got there, I saw Malcolm’s mom was already crying, bemoaning how hard it was raising Malcolm, how he always had her worrying over stupid stuff even when it came to something as big as marriage.

Mom sat right beside her, patting her back and calming her down.

Malcolm plopped down on the sofa across from them, his face as cold as ice.

I glanced at that big, solid wooden spoon sitting on the table, and my heart gave a little jump.

[Oh wow, they’re really about to do the whole mom discipline thing?]

[Ha! He deserves this for once. Serves him right.]

Malcolm snapped a sharp look right at me, that gaze cutting straight through me, no going around it.

I looked away quickly and greeted his mom politely.

When she saw me, she waved me over. "Jolie, honey, what do you think we should do to fix this?" She shot Malcolm a withering glare before turning back to me, "Whatever you decide, I’ve got your back one hundred percent."

I sat down between the two moms, hesitating under Malcolm’s unblinking stare, then finally said, "Auntie, Malcolm didn’t really do anything all that wrong. All we need is for Yara to move out of Malcolm’s place, and we can pretend this whole thing never happened."

"You hear that, young man?" his mom scolded. "I will never let that troublemaker set foot on any Salazar property ever again."

I bit my lip, twisting my hands nervously in my lap under my dress.

[Malcolm, don’t back down now.]

[Yara only has you. Don’t leave her hanging now, come on.]

[Just tell your mom you love her, you can’t live without her, and you want to call off our engagement!]

[Go public with you and Yara, so she can come and go from your place whenever she wants!]

There was a faint, amused glint in Malcolm’s otherwise cold eyes as he watched me fidget. He let out a low, deep chuckle.

That chuckle only made his mom even madder—it felt like he was straight up mocking her authority. She was just about to tear into him again when Malcolm cut her off.

"Mom. Let me talk to Jolie alone."

With that, he headed outside first.

My stomach twisted with a mix of anxiety and curiosity, so I followed him out.

In the garden gazebo, Malcolm stood with one hand tucked into his jeans pocket, the other hanging loose at his side. He had a cigarette lit between his fingers, the cherry glowing bright as pale smoke curled up into the cool air.

"Malcolm…" I started, not totally sure why he’d dragged me out here alone.

Malcolm flicked the ash off his cigarette, his dark eyes locked steady on me.

"Jolie. If I told you there’s nothing going on between me and Yara, would you believe me?"

I said nothing.

[I don’t believe it now. But there will be, soon enough. The future’s already written.]

"Malcolm, you brought a woman who clearly has feelings for you back to your family home. Do you really expect me to believe nothing happened between you two?" I answered with a bitter little smile. "At the end of the day, this is my fault. I was too stubborn. I walked away from what we had, and three years overseas… That was just too long."