Cassandra couldn’t remember how things had spiraled to this point. When had their lives become entangled enough for her to end up sharing a bed with Matthew? Yet, the moment seemed less like intimacy and more like a cruel joke when Julia walked into the party.
Her arrival sent ripples through the lively gathering, silencing the room. Whispers accompanied knowing glances and some guests were even dragged away by their girlfriends, all too familiar with Julia’s reputation. Julia, with her striking allure and unabashed confidence, thrived on chaos. She had woven herself into the lives of many men in the room, leaving trails of gossip and envy.
Yet, when Julia’s gaze landed on Cassandra, her lips curved into a smile that was more predatory than friendly.
“Cassey, I envy you so much,” Julia cooed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “To have a fiancé no one else can steal.”
Her words carried a dangerous edge as she sat down opposite Matthew, her movements deliberately provocative. The party resumed, but Cassandra noticed the tension in Matthew’s demeanor. His usually calm and commanding presence faltered as he suddenly lowered his head, suppressing a grunt.
“What’s wrong?” Cassandra asked, concerned.
Matthew hesitated before raising his face. His composure returned quickly, though a faint redness lingered on his skin.
“I’m fine,” he replied with a forced calmness. But Cassandra caught the way his eyes flashed with anger, shooting daggers at Julia, who was now laughing uncontrollably.
The laughter only grew louder as Julia leaned against her friend, her dress slipping dangerously low. It was then that Cassandra’s gaze fell beneath the table and her blood froze. Julia’s high-heeled foot was shamelessly sliding along Matthew’s leg.
Matthew’s face was a mask of stoicism, but the redness creeping to his ears betrayed his discomfort. Cassandra’s fury boiled over.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to draw attention.
Julia’s grin widened, unapologetic. Before Matthew could respond, Cassandra bolted from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her heart was pounding as she stormed into the restroom, splashing cold water onto her face. But no amount of water could cool the searing betrayal she felt.
As she passed the men’s restroom on her way back, muffled voices caught her attention.
“I’m the one who fits you best, am I not?” Julia’s flirtatious tone was unmistakable.
Cassandra froze.
“Someone like her couldn’t handle you,” Julia continued, her voice laced with seduction.
Matthew’s growl interrupted her. “Enough! Shut up, Julia!”
But Julia’s laughter echoed, her words a dagger to Cassandra’s heart. “Matt, don’t deny it. You know I’ll always belong to you.”
The world around Cassandra blurred. She stumbled outside, her limbs numb. Rain poured down, soaking her as she wandered aimlessly. She wasn’t sure how long she walked until the screech of brakes jolted her back to reality. A car had stopped inches away from her.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” the driver yelled before speeding off. Cassandra didn’t respond. Perhaps she was, in a way. For how else could she explain her foolishness in loving someone like Matthew?
As if the night hadn’t punished her enough, a thief snatched her bag, shoving her into a puddle. Drenched and alone, she sat on the shore until dawn, her mind as turbulent as the crashing waves. She felt like a ghost—lost, homeless and invisible.
When daylight broke, Cassandra was greeted by an unexpected sight. Cabs lit up across the city with glowing messages on their dome lights: [Cassey baby, go home!]
The words followed her everywhere. Giant screens on buildings displayed the same plea:
[Cassey baby, waiting for you to come home!]
Even the radio broadcasted the desperate announcement:
“Dear Ms. Cassandra, your fiancé Mr. Lawrence is searching for you. Please contact him immediately at 156…”
Cassandra’s lips curled into a bitter smile. The rain poured harder as she trudged back, wondering what Matthew’s reaction would be when her “death” was announced in a few days.
As she approached the house, Matthew burst through the door, his eyes wild with desperation. He grabbed her, pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace.
“Cassey! Cassey…” His voice cracked. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought… I thought you’d been taken, or worse!”
His trembling hands cupped her face as tears streamed down his cheeks. The sight of him, this powerful man reduced to a vulnerable state, would have once broken her heart. Now, it only filled her with emptiness.
Two trembling drivers stood in the living room, their relief palpable at her return. Behind them, two beaten thieves lay bloodied on the floor, moaning in pain. Matthew’s voice turned cold as he promised, “Anyone who dares harm you will face my wrath.”
Cassandra’s hollow laughter filled the room. “What if the person who hurt me… is you?” she whispered under her breath, too soft for him to hear.
Half an hour earlier, Julia had sent her a message, her words venomous:
“Cassandra, it must be hard. Even when Matthew sleeps beside me, he calls out your name.”
Attached was a recording—a damning, explicit proof of their betrayal.
Cassandra didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. Instead, she saved every message, every piece of evidence. One day, these would become the knives she would plunge into Matthew’s heart.
***
Four days remained until the engagement. Cassandra accompanied Matthew to the hospital for a routine check-up. He promised her he wouldn’t leave her side this time. But halfway through, his phone began vibrating incessantly.
“Ignore it,” he said, silencing the call. But the phone continued buzzing. Ten minutes later, the hospital staff grew irritated, forcing him to step outside.
When he returned, his face was grave. Cassandra’s heart was already bracing for another betrayal.
The call came abruptly. Matthew's brows furrowed as he glanced at his phone, a tension tightening around him.
“There’s an issue with the company,” he muttered, his voice unusually low. “I need to go.”
Cassandra barely had time to process his words before he bolted out the door, jacket forgotten on the chair.
She stared after him, the sting of abandonment all too familiar now. Alone in the sterile hospital room, she tried to focus on the doctor’s words: the polyp removal had been a success. Yet, it felt like more than just a surgery. Something else had been severed—her faith, her love, her heart.
Her steps echoed hollowly in the hospital corridors as she wandered aimlessly. But at the far end of the hallway, her world tilted.
Matthew stood there, supporting Julia, who was leaning against him with exaggerated frailty. They emerged from the obstetrics and gynecology department, their connection impossible to mistake.
Julia spotted her first. With a coy gleam in her eye, she wrapped her arms around Matthew’s neck. The tenderness Cassandra thought was hers alone spilled effortlessly into Julia’s embrace.
“Matt,” Julia purred, her voice sugar-coated poison, “I was heartbroken when we lost the baby. But it’s okay—we’ll have plenty of children in the future.”
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat. Julia’s gaze locked on hers as she pressed her lips against Matthew’s. He didn’t push her away—just stood there, frozen and absent-minded.
Then, like a snap of a whip, he grabbed Julia by the collar, his tone venomous. “If you ever go near another man again, I’ll break your legs.”
Julia’s lips curved into a wicked smile, her voice sickly sweet as she nipped playfully at his ear. “Don’t worry, master. I’ll be your loyal dog forever.”
It was like being plunged into a glacier. Cassandra’s mind reeled, her body numb. The wind outside howled as she staggered blindly through the halls, feeling as though the universe itself had lost its love.
***
Later that evening, Cassandra met Mr. Ban in a dimly lit corner of the city. The plan for her staged “death” was almost finalized.
“It’s all set,” Mr. Ban said, his tone clipped. “The explosion will take place at the abandoned chemical factory on Mavel Street.”
Cassandra nodded. Coincidentally, Mavel Street was where Julia had once paraded her affair with Matthew. It felt almost poetic to choose that location.
She returned home to find Matthew planning their engagement with feverish dedication. Every detail, from the venue’s decorations to the engraved ten-carat pink diamond ring, was handpicked by him.
At the jewelry store, as the staff fawned over the massive diamond on her finger, Julia appeared, her arrival as brazen as always.
“Whoa,” Julia said, her tone dripping with mockery. “What a beautiful ring. Why didn’t Mr. Lawrence give one to me?”
Matthew’s eyes darkened. “You have no right to compare yourself to my fiancée. Get out before I have you thrown out.”
But Julia only smirked, dodging his attempt to retrieve the ring from her grasp. Her laughter was a dagger, her next words aimed to wound. “It seems Mr. Lawrence’s stamina isn’t what it used to be. Poor Madam Cassey must be so disappointed.”
Cassandra clenched her fists. She smiled coldly, her voice sharper than steel. “You’re right, Ms. Julia. The ring you’re holding is pretty. But it’s superficial—likely to leave scars before it ever feels comfortable. Unlike the timeless piece I have, which endures.”
She turned to Matthew, her voice softening as she addressed him. “Don’t you agree, Matt?”
Matthew froze, startled by the term of endearment he hadn’t heard in months. A flicker of emotion crossed his face, a mix of longing and disbelief. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
That night, Cassandra’s suspicions were confirmed when she saw Julia’s post online: a picture of her flaunting a ten-carat pink diamond identical to Cassandra’s, along with the caption, "Ten-carat diamonds—so ordinary, right?"
But what truly broke her was the engraving on Julia’s ring: Love never fails. Matt Bros will always love Julia.
Matt Bros. The name Matthew had used before they met. The name tied to the darkest chapter of his past.
Cassandra stared at the words, each one cutting deeper than the last. Love never fails? How cruel, then, that hers had been left to bleed dry.
