Chapter 2

At six in the evening, I slipped into a black slip dress and headed to Skyline Club.

Skyline Club was our old haunt.

When Patrick turned eighteen, he gave the rooftop terrace a complete makeover. He installed a glass wine cabinet right in the center, and even placed my favorite white piano in the corner.

Back then, he'd go around saying, "If Vivian's happy, Skyline Club stays open all night."

When I pulled up to the entrance, Lydia was already waiting for me.

She gave me a once-over from head to toe, then let out a loud "Damn." "Did you spend five years abroad to bless the world with that face?"

I tossed my bag to her. "Cut to the chase."

As we walked in, Lydia leaned in and whispered, "Emily's inside."

"Fine."

"That's all you've got?"

"What else do you want me to do?" I shot her a look. "Should I go back to the car and channel my inner queen?"

Lydia burst out laughing, then sighed. "You'll see for yourself once you're inside. Honestly, I can't make sense of them these past two years.

"At first, everyone thought Emily was some girl who looked a bit like you. But now, each of those guys is more obsessed with her than the last.

"Word is, now that the original muse is back, you might not even be able to steal the spotlight from her."

I kept walking, my tone cool. "Who said I'm here to compete for anyone?"

Before I even pushed open the door to the private room, I heard Patrick's voice. "Don't be nervous. Vivian's not the jealous type."

Then came a soft female voice. "But I'm still a little scared."

Someone laughed and chimed in, "What are you afraid of? You've got someone watching your back now."

The private room was quiet.

Standing at the doorway, I immediately spotted Emily sitting right next to the head of the table.

She was dressed in a creamy white dress, her hair smooth and draped over her shoulders. She really did look a bit like me, especially around the eyes and brows.

But she seemed even skinnier and quieter than I'd expected, like a breeze could knock her over.

The four guys I grew up with were scattered around her, each taking up a spot nearby.

Charles was sitting closest, a glass of water placed in front of him.

James was leaning against the sofa, holding an unlit cigarette, his expression cold and distant.

Samuel glanced up at me, his gaze calm and almost detached behind his glasses.

Patrick was the most straightforward. He stood up, grinning as he walked over to me. "Well, look who finally decided to grace us with her presence."

If I hadn't overheard those two lines outside, this scene would've looked like old times.

But the next second, my gaze fell on the cocktail sitting on the table.

That was Skyline Club's signature drink, Velvet Harmony.

I was the only one who used to order it.

Then it was right by Emily's hand, the rim stained with a hint of her lipstick.

My gaze lingered there for a couple of seconds.

Patrick followed my eyes, and his smile slipped. He actually looked a bit awkward for once. "Emily's never had it before, so I thought I'd let her try."

"Whatever," I said as I pulled out a chair. "It's not like the drink's got my name on it."

Someone let out a quiet sigh of relief.

It was like not making a scene right then was already me being super chill about it.

Emily stood up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Hi, Ms. Grant. I'm Emily Rowan."

I looked up at her. "Hi."

Emily blinked, clearly surprised by how chill I was. She fidgeted, then murmured, "Sorry, I didn't realize tonight was your welcome party. I..."

"It's fine," I cut her off. "You're not here to freeload or anything."

Patrick was about to say something when another socialite in the room, someone I barely knew, laughed and jumped in, "Ms. Grant, you still have that strong vibe, like before."

She was saying nice things about me, but she kept sneaking glances at Emily.

I couldn't be bothered to care.

The waiters started bringing out the food, and I had barely settled in before someone started shifting the conversation to me on purpose.

"Vivian, you've been abroad for years and barely posted any photos. We thought you'd never come back," someone said.

"Yeah," another girl jumped in even faster.

"When Emily first showed up, everyone said she looked a bit like you. But now that I see her, it's not really about the looks.

"It's a different vibe. She's got that aura that makes people want to look out for her."

Lydia rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck.

I picked up my fork, took my time, and speared a piece of fish. "Guess you guys have matured. Your taste is getting more philanthropic these days."

The room went dead silent for a second.

Patrick couldn't help but burst out laughing, but as soon as James shot him a cold glare, he swallowed his laughter and shut up.

Emily's face went pale, and she blurted out, "I didn't mean it like that..."

"Of course you didn't," I said, locking eyes with her. "It's them who are making things interesting, not you."

The air in the room went completely still.

James dropped his cigarette onto the table, speaking in a low voice. "Vivian."

"What?" I tilted my head at him.

"That's enough," he said.

Suddenly, I remembered how, years ago, someone secretly filmed me and posted it on the school forum. James was the first one to scrub the whole thing clean.

Back then, he said, "Vivian's name isn't for anyone to throw around."

And now, here he is, telling me to knock it off.

I smirked. "James, you act like you run the world. Now you want to control what I say, too?"

He looked at me, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. "I don't want you to stir things up and make it ugly right after you get back."

"Am I really causing drama?" I shot back.

No one said a word.

But the look on everyone's face said it all: they were sure I was about to stir things up any second.

Just then, Emily reached for the Velvet Harmony.

Maybe she was nervous, maybe her hand slipped, but the glass tipped over, and the pale golden drink spilled down the edge of the table, splashing over half her skirt.

She shot to her feet, her eyes going red with embarrassment.

Patrick was the quickest to react. He grabbed some napkins and handed them over. "It's fine. Did you burn yourself?"

Charles was already up, gently checking her hand to make sure she was okay.

Samuel calmly swept the glass shards aside, his expression cool, but the way he shielded her was instinctive.

James gave me a quick look.

It lasted only a moment, but I knew exactly what he meant.

He suspected Emily's little mishap was because of me.

It was so funny.

I sat there, didn't even lift a finger, and somehow everyone was looking at me like I was the culprit.

Emily kept her head down, her voice trembling with tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so clumsy."

Patrick frowned. "It's not your fault."

Then he turned to me, trying to play peacemaker, but he wasn't exactly subtle about it. "Vivian, she didn't mean to sit here, and she didn't mean to drink your cocktail. Don't hold it against her."

I looked at him, and honestly, I couldn't even muster up the energy to be angry anymore.

"Patrick," I said, standing up and grabbing my purse. "How much have I even said since I walked in?"

He choked, completely speechless.

"But to all of you, I've already been petty about everything, haven't I?" I said.

I strode out in my heels, and as I opened the door, the silence behind me was so heavy you could hear a pin drop.

No one tried to stop me.

At the end of the hallway, Lydia caught up to me, her face red with anger. "Are they crazy or what?"

I pushed my hair back and saw that the purse strap had left a deep red mark on my palm. I sounded so calm, and even I was surprised. "Maybe."

Lydia looked at me, her voice soft. "Vivian, don't let it bother you."

Standing in the brightly lit hallway of Skyline Club, I found the nights here in Capitavia felt as cold as the ones overseas.

"I'm not upset," I said, my voice coming out a little rough. "I don't get it."

It was not my favorite foods, my fears, or how much I hated being wrongly accused that they remembered.

Instead, they were more worried about protecting someone else from me.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

It was a text from an unknown number, a single line: [Landed yet, my fiancée?]

I stared at that message for a couple of seconds, then couldn't help but laugh.

The people in that private room probably never saw this coming.

They were still busy worrying I would steal their spotlight.

Meanwhile, I was back in town to get married.