Chapter 3

I woke to the sound of my phone vibrating against the nightstand. The hotel room was still dark, the digital clock reading 3:17 AM. My brother's name flashed across the screen.

"Mark?" I answered, my voice thick with sleep. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, his tone unusually serious. "But not over the phone."

I sat up, suddenly alert. "Is everything okay?"

"Just... not now. I'll meet you for breakfast at that café near your office. Seven sharp."

Before I could question him further, he hung up. I stared at my phone, a strange uneasiness settling in my stomach.

---

When I arrived at the café the next morning, my brother was already waiting, two cups of coffee on the table. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles, as if he hadn't slept.

"You look terrible," he said bluntly, pushing one of the cups toward me.

"Thanks," I replied, taking a sip. "That's what breaking up with someone does to you."

He leaned forward, his expression intense. "Elianna, I know something's happened with Travis. And whatever it is, you need to talk about it."

I stared into my coffee. "There's nothing to talk about."

"See, that's exactly the problem." He reached across the table and gently took my hand. "You've never been able to hide anything from me. And right now, you're falling apart."

I wanted to deny it, to insist I was fine, but the words wouldn't come.

"I'm handling it," I finally said.

"No," my brother said firmly. "You're not. And you don't have to handle it alone."

After breakfast, I returned to my hotel room and tried to focus on work, but my mind kept drifting to my brother's concerned face. I hadn't realized how transparent I'd become.

---

What I didn't know then was that my brother had already taken matters into his own hands.

Later that night, in his apartment across town, he paced as he waited for the international call to connect.

"Harlan? It's Mark Coleman. I'm sorry to call so late your time."

In London, Harlan Coleman sat up straighter in his desk chair, concern immediately flooding his features at the strain in his friend's voice.

"Mark? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"It's Elianna," my brother said, his voice breaking slightly. "Something's happened with her and Travis. She won't talk about it, but she's devastated."

Harlan's expression hardened. "Devastated how?"

"I've never seen her like this. She's checked into a hotel, she's missing work... she won't even talk to me about it."

There was a long pause before Harlan spoke again.

"I'm coming back," he said simply.

"But your expansion deal—" my brother began.

"I'll delegate," Harlan interrupted. "Some things are more important."

---

Meanwhile, Fiona had escalated her campaign to reclaim Travis. Every day that week, she appeared at his office carrying elaborate homemade lunches in designer containers.

"Travis always loved my chicken salad," she told his assistant with a conspiratorial smile. "We used to have picnics by the lake when we were teenagers."

She began sitting in on his meetings, perched on the edge of his desk with practiced grace.

"Oh, I'm sorry—am I interrupting?" she would ask with wide-eyed innocence when executives entered. "Travis and I were just catching up on old times."

During one particularly important meeting with international investors, she leaned over and whispered something in Travis's ear, then giggled softly.

"Actually," she interjected when there was a pause in the discussion, "Travis and I have been discussing the Asian market expansion. We think—"

"Thank you, Fiona," Travis cut her off, his smile tight. "But we're focusing on Europe today."

She pouted prettily but didn't press further.

Later, she cornered one of Travis's business partners in the hallway.

"It's so wonderful to see Travis again," she gushed. "We've always been destined for each other. That poor girl—what was her name? Elianna? She was just a temporary distraction during our years apart."

---

Two days later, my phone rang with a number I didn't recognize.

"Elianna, dear?" The voice was warm and familiar—Travis's mother.

"Mrs. Webb," I replied, straightening in my chair. "How are you?"

"Confused, honestly," she said with a light laugh that didn't quite mask her concern. "This Fiona girl has moved into your apartment with Travis. She says you've decided to take some time apart?"

I closed my eyes, feeling a headache forming behind my temples.

"It's... complicated," I managed.

"Well, I think there must be some misunderstanding," she continued brightly. "Which is why I'm hosting a special Christmas party this year—just family and close friends. I'd like you and Fiona both to come. We can sort this all out like family should."

Before I could respond, she added, "It's settled then! December 15th at the house. Travis has always said you're the one who makes the holidays special. I'm counting on you to make this year just as magical."

The line went dead before I could protest.

I stared at my phone, a cold dread settling in my stomach. The Christmas party. Of course.

Fiona versus Elianna. Round two was coming—and this time, it would be in front of everyone who mattered.