The party was loud, too loud. The room smelled of expensive liquor and burning cigarettes, so strong it was almost intoxicating. The silver chandeliers added a reflective glow of the interiors to the room. The people present laughed, whispered, and drank like they had all the time in the world.
Heather Everleigh Thorne leaned against the mink velvet couch, her head light from too much champagne. She shouldn't have come, but she hadn't had a choice. After all, it was her husband's event, one of the rare times they played the perfect couple in public.
What's worse than being here tonight? The fake laughter? The forced smiles and awkward conversations? Everyone pretending to connect despite holding grudges.
Or maybe it's the love in the air... She stared at a particular couple talking to her husband. The way the couple were staring at each other, their fingers intertwined, sharing genuine bond.
Heather watched them with a pain of longing, yearning for that kind of connection. The kind of love that makes you feel seen and cherished, despite being old and unappealing.
The kind of love she had always hoped to find with Caius. But instead, she felt invisible, like a side character trying to fit in where she does not belong...the lovers den.
She turned her head slightly, eyes half-lidded, and saw Caius Thorne, her husband, standing with his friends. He was tall, composed, a study of masculine perfection, and unfairly handsome in a way that made people want to be close to him. His dark hair, halfway buttoned shirt, showing off his chest muscles. A flirt. He behaved quite different when he was with others. With her, he was just cold.
Heather watched as he swirled the whiskey in his glass, the ice clinking softly. He hadn't looked at her all night.
Maybe it was the dress, or the makeup. She had done everything exactly as he liked it—exactly as Lauren used to do it. Which he liked.
She always felt like a side story to his life with her stepsister. He made her crave his attention and validation, yet she barely got enough. Funny enough, she didn't want it if it wasn't from him.
She wished he looked at her the way he looked at Lauren. With such intensity and adoration. The way he loved Lauren. He stared at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Heather couldn't help but wish he would look at her like that, even just once.
Her mind wandered back to the last time he had truly looked at her. It was the night he had been drunk, and they had shared a moment that felt almost real.
He held her close, whispering sweet nothings that made her heart beat. But then he called her Lauren.
The memory stung, a bitter reminder that she was just a stand-in for the woman he truly loved.
"Let's play a game," someone suggested.
There were silent giggles.
"Not with her," one of the men chuckled, motioning toward Heather. "She's too drunk to play."
Caius barely spared her a glance. "She's drunk, yes. She won't be able to keep up. Let her rest."
Heather let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She was wrong. So he still cared about her, even if just a little. It made her heart flutter a little bit.
They finally settled on Truth or Dare, and the first question made the room go silent.
"How much can a person love another person?"
Caius smirked. He held his glass carefree as he answered, "I married my favorite person's most hated sister. Just so she can be happy."
Heather didn't know to feel. He married her to make Lauren happy.
People burst out laughing. Someone whistled.
"It must be nice, though," one of his friends teased. "Sleeping with an actress."
A hand touched her waist. Caius. His fingers pressed against her lightly, as if reminding her who she belonged to. "Very nice," he murmured.
Heather felt like throwing up.
"Can I have a taste when you're done? I've been wondering what she would feel like."
Caius shot him a primal glare.
"Woah, calm down, man. It was just a joke," the man said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
"I don't care. You can have her as you please, when I'm done," Caius replied coldly.
"I proceed next," another one added, talking about her as if she wasn't even there.
"Maybe we should auction her off," someone else suggested. "Highest bidder gets a night with the lovely Mrs. Thorne."
She got irritated by the way he stared at her.
"Or we could just pass her around like a party favor," another voice added, laughing cruelly, opening his mouth full of saw-like teeth, wanting to devour Heather.
Heather wasn't fully drunk, she listened to Caius and his friends discuss her like she was some whore. She clenched her fist in annoyance. She refused to be insulted .
"I'm your wife Caius, have some shame." Heather hiccuped as she spoke, her eyes moistening with tears. She had no idea why this man hated her so much. She has done everything, given up her career to focus on taking care of him, being a housewife, act like a slave just to earn his love, but still, he hated her with everything in him.
Caius gave her a look—a long, cold stare that pierced through the noise of the party. For the first time that night, She felt it like a chill, straight down her spine. Her hand drifted to her dress, tugging it at the waist. She hated how small she suddenly felt. It was his eyes. That stern, unreadable expression. Like she was a stranger.
"What exactly did they do wrong?" he asked, voice low and detached. "Isn't that how we got married?"
Heather's brows drew together. The words hit her like ice water. That... was cruel. She blinked. Did he really just say that?
Before she could answer, one of his friends leaned over with a smirk. "When are you getting rid of her?" he said casually, like they were talking about shoes. "This... double you've been playing house with?"
Caius didn't say anything right away. But then, a thin smile touched his lips. It didn't reach his eyes.
Heather froze. That was when she knew it wasn't a joke. She took a slow breath, her fingers curling tighter into the side of her dress.
A sudden wave of noise washed through the party.
"Oh my God, is that Lauren?"
Heather turned. Of course it was. She already knew, even before she turned to look.
Lauren stood at the entrance like she'd been waiting for her cue. Her black dress hugged every curve, makeup flawless, brown hair falling over one bare shoulder. She didn't just walk in—she made an entrance. Heads turned, phones came out, and Caius's friends straightened their ties. She always knew how to make an entrance.
The murmurs grew louder.
"She's even more beautiful in real life," someone whispered.
Lauren stopped posing, her eyes scanned the crowd and she spotted Caius. Her smiled widening. But he was standing beside... "Ugh." Lauren rolled her eyes. She immediately inserted herself in-between them, pushing Heather to the side with her hip.
Heather didn't retaliate, she simply moved herself from them. But her chest tightened when Caius stepped away from his friends—closer to Lauren. Heather watched him reach Lauren. He didn't smile, but he really looked at her. That gaze he never gave her, she began thinking he just couldn't care, until now.
Someone started live streaming. Another took pictures.
"They're the perfect couple," someone whispered.
"He really loves her," said another.