Chapter 3

Emily's little games were obvious, but I couldn't bring myself to care anymore.

Pouting, she marched up to me. A split second later, she dropped straight to the floor with a theatrical thud and burst into tears.

Richard hurried into the room, his brows knitted at the scene.

"I can't take this anymore," Emily wailed, dialing up the volume. "Claire's jealous because you bought me that car. She called me shameless and told me my acting was pathetic."

Richard's expression softened into obvious concern. He rushed over and helped her to her feet. "What did I tell you? If someone gives you grief, stand your ground. I've got your back no matter what."

He meant it as reassurance, but the tenderness in his tone sounded like sweet nothings, none of which were meant for me.

Emily sniffled, lowering her voice to a whimper. "I held back because she's your fiancée. Otherwise, I would've told her off."

Richard sighed, his tone indulgent. "Fiancée or not, you're allowed to defend yourself."

He turned to me, the warmth vanishing into a cold glare. "Apologize to Emily."

I raised an eyebrow, my silence making my stance crystal clear.

Emily wiped a tear away. "I don't need an apology. Can she wash my car instead?"

Richard agreed without missing a beat. "Done."

I stood up, holding his gaze. "Richard, that is crossing the line."

"Stop making a scene," he snapped, taking my wrist and dragging me toward the driveway. "Meet me halfway for once. I'll help you wash it."

The pink Mini Cooper I had dreamed about for years was parked right in front of the house.

Richard picked up the garden hose and shoved it into my hands.

Emily stood to the side, pointing bossily. "Get that spot, and over there too. Make sure it's spotless."

I didn't move an inch.

Emily suddenly lunged and snatched the nozzle from my grip. Pretending to lose her balance, she aimed the high-pressure stream straight at my face.

She burst into giggles, acting like it was all fun and games. "Forget the car wash. Claire, water fight."

The forceful spray stung my skin like needles, setting my face on fire. My eyes burned as water flooded them, forcing me to blink frantically through the blur.

Richard stood right there, smiling down at Emily as if nothing was wrong.

Pushed to my limit, I lunged forward and ripped the hose from her hands, aiming the spray right back at her.

Richard threw himself in front of Emily without hesitation, taking the blast full force and getting drenched from head to toe.

We stood locked in a standoff, water dripping between us.

After a long silence, he spoke in a low, bitter voice, "Happy now? I always knew you had a petty, vindictive streak."

The hose slipped from my fingers and splashed onto the pavement. I was a complete mess. Hair plastered to my face, clothes soaked through, eyes red and burning.

None of the physical discomfort stung half as much as being called vindictive by him.

Years ago, he used to call me the sweetest girl he knew. He hated seeing anyone take advantage of me and taught me never to let others walk all over me.

Now, the person constantly handing me humiliation on a silver platter was Richard himself.

I stared at him in silence.

It was only then that he seemed to register how battered I looked, but all he offered was an irritated scowl. "Why didn't you move out of the way?"

The skin on my face was raw and bruised from the blast. I wiped the stream of water and tears from my cheeks, refusing to let him see me cry. "The pressure was blinding me. Where was I supposed to go?"

He caught sight of my bloodshot eyes. A brief flicker of concern passed over his face, and he took a step toward me.

Emily quickly grabbed his forearm, holding him back. "I didn't mean to, Richard. I was trying to break the ice with Claire. I didn't realize the water pressure was that strong."

Richard paused, then waved a hand dismissively. "Enough, both of you. Let's drop it."

With that single brush-off, he swept the whole thing under the rug, leaving me soaking wet with nowhere to put my humiliation.