Chapter 2

Faith Cain POV:

The night of my birthday party was a blur of champagne, polite smiles, and the suffocating weight of expectation. Brett, true to form, only appeared after most of the elder guests and business associates had departed, with Juliana clinging to his arm.

Her cheeks were flushed, a rosy glow that had nothing to do with a fever. But it was the mark on Brett' s neck that caught my eye, a dark, angry bruise blooming on the side of his neck, just above his collar.

Anyone with eyes could see what they had been doing just moments before arriving.

In my past life, this would have shattered me. I would have dissolved into tears, demanding to know how he could humiliate me like this on my birthday, in front of everyone. I would have screamed, questioning if my years of devotion meant absolutely nothing to him.

Tonight, I simply glanced at the mark, my gaze lingering for only a second before I turned back to the conversation I was having with a distant cousin. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

I felt his eyes on me, though. He saw where I had looked. He instinctively shifted, trying to block my view of Juliana, as if to protect her from my judgment.

Seconds ticked by. The explosion he was waiting for never came.

My silence seemed to agitate him more than any outburst could have.

"What's this?" he finally said, striding over to me with a forced, mocking smile. "Playing the part of the magnanimous fiancée? Are you so afraid of losing your chance to marry me that you'll pretend not to see?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping. "Get used to it, Faith. I'm about to become the head of this family, the CEO of Kline Innovations. I can't be tied down to just one woman. There will be many others."

He gave me a condescending pat on the arm. "But since you're being so... understanding tonight, I have a little reward for you."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. A gasp rippled through the few remaining guests who were watching the drama unfold.

Just as he was about to hand it to me, a small hand darted out and snatched it from his grasp.

It was Juliana.

"Oh, Brett! Is that the 'Lover's Whisper' bracelet?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with manufactured awe. "It's the limited edition from Cartier! They only made ten in the entire world. I heard it was impossible to get."

Brett' s hand, which had been extended toward me, immediately dropped. A fond smile spread across his face as he looked at her.

"Do you like it?" he asked softly.

Without waiting for an answer, he said, "Then it's yours."

"But... but it's for Faith," Juliana said, her eyes, full of triumphant deceit, locking onto mine. It was a flawless performance of reluctant acceptance.

"Don't be silly," Brett scoffed, waving a dismissive hand in my direction. "I'll just find something else for her. Besides," he added, his voice dripping with condescension, "anything from me is perfect in her eyes, right?"

A few snickers echoed in the room. The humiliation was a familiar, bitter taste in my mouth. Memories flooded back, sharp and painful.

I remembered how I used to treasure everything he gave me, no matter how insignificant. Once, caught in a sudden downpour, he' d casually draped his jacket over my shoulders. It was a thoughtless gesture for him, but for me, it was everything. I kept that jacket for years, hidden away like a sacred relic.

He found it, of course. He found me one night, holding it, breathing in the faint scent of him that still clung to the fabric.

"Shameless," he had spat, his face a mask of disgust.

That single word had crushed the fragile heart of a teenage girl. I had been mortified. Ferdinand had even struck him with his cane for it, yelling that he was talking nonsense, but Brett had just laughed it off.

Later, he turned the story into a joke, exaggerating my pathetic devotion for the amusement of his friends. I quickly became the laughingstock of our social circle.

Looking back on it now, it was all just so pathetic. My love, my devotion, my humiliation.

I turned to leave, the party suddenly feeling suffocating.

"Where are you going?" Brett' s hand clamped down on my arm, stopping me. "What, are you angry? Can't keep up the charade anymore?"

His voice was a low growl. "I always knew you were a vicious woman, Faith."

His grip on my wrist was painfully tight. I looked down at his hand, then back up at his face, my expression unreadable.

With a sharp, sudden movement, I yanked my arm free.

"Brett," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "Have some respect."

He froze for a second, taken aback by my defiance. Then he sneered. "Respect? Why should I? You've been desperate to marry me since we were kids. Soon we'll be living under the same roof. No need for pretenses."

A cold smile touched my lips. "Who said I was going to marry you?"

The room fell into a stunned silence. For a beat, no one moved, no one breathed.

Then, the silence was broken by a wave of laughter. It started as a chuckle from one of his cousins and quickly spread, until the entire room was laughing at me.

Brett' s own laughter was the loudest. "Who else would you marry, Faith?" he mocked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You're obsessed with me. We both know it."

He gestured dismissively around the opulent room. "What, are you going to marry him?"

He pointed toward the far side of the ballroom, where his older brother, Kaleb, sat alone, almost hidden in the shadows. He was the only other eligible Kline son.

"My dear brother?" Brett' s voice was laced with pitying contempt. "The brilliant programmer who had a breakdown and hasn't been the same since that little... corporate sabotage incident?"

The room quieted slightly, the guests' eyes shifting uncomfortably toward Kaleb.

"He's always sick, Faith," Brett continued, his voice cruel. "Who knows how long he'll even live. And they say the incident... damaged more than just his nerves." He let the insinuation hang in the air, a vulgar and ugly thing.

He took a step closer to me, his smile turning into a vicious sneer.

"Tell me, Faith," he whispered, his words a final, devastating blow. "Are you really willing to spend the rest of your life with a broken man who can't give you anything?"

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