Three years ago, my best friend stole my fiancé. At our charity gala, she smirked, “Poor Sophia, still married to your work at 34. I’m planning an Italian wedding.” I smiled. “Have you met my husband?” I called him over—her champagne glass trembled. She recognized him instantly and froze.

Christina and Ryan were there, of course. They had been making the rounds, trying to maintain their status despite the whispers that Ryan’s firm, Morrison and Hayes, was on the verge of a catastrophic collapse.

When Christina saw us, she made a beeline. She wanted to hurt me. She needed to believe that she had “won” the competition for a successful life.

“Sophia, darling,” she said, her voice dripping with artificial warmth. “And this must be your… date. It’s so good to see you getting back out there. It’s hard, isn’t it? Being alone at your age? The options get so limited.”

She turned her gaze to Alexander, looking him up and down with an air of dismissive superiority. She didn’t recognize him. To her, he was just a man in a well-fitting tuxedo—likely a “pity date” for the workaholic Sophia.

“I’m Christina,” she said, extending her hand. “Ryan’s fiancée. We’re doing a destination wedding in Tuscany. It’s very exclusive.”

Alexander took her hand, his expression one of polite, icy detachment. “I’m Alexander. And Sophia is never ‘alone,’ Christina. She is the center of her own universe. I’m just lucky enough to be in her orbit.”

Ryan stepped up then, his face pale. He recognized Alexander immediately. The air in the small circle suddenly felt vacuum-sealed.

“Mr. Chen,” Ryan stammered, his hand shaking as he reached for a champagne flute. “I didn’t realize… I mean, we’ve spoken via our legal teams.”

Alexander didn’t take Ryan’s hand. He kept his arm around my waist. “Yes, Mitchell. Your firm’s attempt to block our acquisition of the Vector Group was… uninspired. It’s quite clear you were distracted by other matters. Perhaps you should have spent more time on the due diligence and less on the… social maneuvering.”

Christina looked between them, her mouth slightly agape. “Wait… Alexander Chen? The billionaire?”

Alexander ignored her. He looked down at me, his eyes full of a fierce, protective love. “Sophia, I believe they’re starting the auction. Should we find our table?”

As we walked away, I felt the sheer weight of their shock hitting my back. It was better than any insult I could have hurled. It was the absolute, undeniable proof that by trying to steal my life, they had merely inherited each other’s mediocrity.

But the real confrontation was waiting for me in the lounge.