Chapter 4

Blaire POV:

The grand ballroom of the Dyer estate shimmered under the opulent chandeliers, a symphony of sparkling crystal and hushed whispers. Tonight, Cade Dyer and Alessandra Guerra were celebrating their engagement. The air was thick with the scent of lilies and ambition, a noxious cocktail that burned my nostrils even through the haze of my lingering headache.

I stood hidden in a secluded alcove in the family wing, my eyes scanning the live feed on a tablet I' d managed to 'borrow' . Cade, handsome and radiating false charm, was expertly playing the part of the devoted fiancé. He smiled at Alessandra, a smile that once belonged to me, his hand resting possessively on the small of her back. Every gesture, every glance, a performance I had once believed.

Suddenly, the screen flickered, and Cade' s eyes, almost imperceptibly, darted towards the back entrance of the ballroom, where I was supposed to be kept. A flicker of uneasiness crossed his face before he recomposed himself, his smile widening for the cameras. He was looking for me. A pang of something akin to morbid satisfaction pulsed through my veins.

A soft knock interrupted my grim observation. Mrs. Albright, the superintendent, entered, her face a mask of polite concern. "Miss Madden, Mr. Dyer asked me to bring you some refreshments. And perhaps a sed... some calming tea." Her words, meant to soothe, felt like another veiled threat. I knew Cade wanted me incapacitated, out of sight, out of mind.

"No, thank you, Mrs. Albright," I said, my voice steady. I pushed the tablet away. "I'm perfectly fine." My gaze drifted to a small, ornate key on her belt loop. It was the key to the main family wing, the only way to the grand staircase leading directly to the ballroom. Cade always kept it locked when I was in the house.

Just then, Cade' s voice, amplified by the ballroom' s sound system, boomed through the manor. "Blaire, darling? I know you're here. My sweet Blaire, please come out. We need to talk." His voice was honeyed, dripping with a false tenderness that made my stomach churn. He was trying to coax me out, to control the narrative, to play the victim of my supposed instability.

Mrs. Albright' s eyes widened, a mixture of fear and confusion. "Mr. Dyer is calling for you, Miss Madden."

"Is he now?" I murmured, a slow smile spreading across my face. I moved swiftly, plucking the key from her belt. Her gasp of surprise was swallowed by the approaching footsteps. Cade was coming for me.

I didn't wait. I bolted, the key cold in my palm, towards the grand staircase. The heavy mahogany door was indeed locked. My fingers fumbled with the key, my heart hammering against my ribs, a thrilling drumbeat of anticipation. It clicked open. I pushed the door wide and stepped out, bathed in the blinding light of the ballroom.

A collective gasp swept through the assembled guests. All eyes turned to me. The music faltered. Cade, who had been halfway across the ballroom, froze, his face draining of color. "Blaire," he whispered, his voice a raw, desperate plea.

"Look at her! She looks like a ghost!" someone hissed. "Who is she?" another guest whispered. The whispers spread like wildfire, fueled by confusion and disdain. I was an unknown, an uninvited specter.

Cade rushed towards me, his eyes wide with a mixture of anger and panic. "Blaire, what are you doing? You shouldn't be here!" He tried to grab my arm, to pull me back into the shadows, to erase my presence.

"Cade," a booming voice cut through the chaos. It was Mr. Dyer Sr., Cade's newly recognized father, a man whose stern features now looked thunderous. "Who is this woman? And why is she disrupting your engagement party?"

Alessandra, ever the opportunist, seized her moment. She rushed forward, throwing herself into Cade' s arms, her eyes brimming with feigned tears. "Oh, Cade! She attacked me just last night! She's obsessed with you, Mr. Dyer! She just can't accept that Cade chose me!"

Cade' s gaze flickered between Alessandra and me. His face was a mask of calculated distress. He tightened his arm around Alessandra, a silent endorsement of her lies. My heart, already dead, felt nothing. No pain, no shock, just a chilling confirmation of his depravity.

"Cade," I said, my voice clear and steady, cutting through the stunned silence. "Tell them the truth. Tell them who I am. Tell them about the last three years."

He flinched, his eyes darting frantically. "Blaire, you're delusional," he muttered, his voice barely audible. He turned to his father, a veneer of regret settling on his features. "Father, she's... a former acquaintance. She's clearly unwell. I'm so sorry for this disruption."

"Unwell?" I laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "You call three years of my life, every penny I spent, every moment I sacrificed, 'unwell'?" I tried to step forward, to confront him, but two burly security guards materialized, grabbing my arms, their grip bruising.

"Cade, make her leave!" Mr. Dyer Sr. boomed, his patience clearly at an end. "This is an embarrassment!"

Cade looked at me, a cold, calculating glint in his eyes. He saw not the woman who had loved him, but a problem to be solved. And he chose the cruelest solution. "Take her away," he ordered, his voice devoid of any warmth, any hesitation. "And make sure she never bothers us again."

The security guards dragged me towards the exit, their hands rough. My eyes locked with Cade' s. There was no remorse, no regret, just a chilling emptiness. My love for him truly was gone. Replaced by a cold, burning desire for retribution.

As they reached the edge of the ballroom, a new voice, low and menacing, cut through the tension. "Wait."

Everyone turned. Mr. Dyer Sr. nodded, a silent command. Cade looked confused, his eyes searching. Then, another set of guards, taller, broader, their faces grim, appeared from behind Mr. Dyer Sr. They weren't Dyer estate security.

"Mr. Dyer," one of them said, his voice deep and respectful. "It seems we have a small issue. There's a breach of protocol in the guest list." He gestured towards me. "This young lady, as per the rules you yourself established for all new introductions to the family... she needs to be properly vetted. This is a family matter, not a common dispute."

Mr. Dyer Sr.'s eyes narrowed. He looked at Cade, then at me. "Is this true, Cade? Is she acquainted with the family?"

Cade stammered, his face pale. "No, Father, she's... she's not. I mean, she was just my... my assistant."

"An assistant who lives in the family wing?" The guard raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Dyer, your directives were very clear. Any potential partner for the heir must pass a background check. And any individual residing on the estate, especially one who claims a long-term relationship, must be formally introduced." He produced a folder. "We have reason to believe this young lady has a history with the Dyer staff and, indeed, with Cade himself. A rather unfortunate history."

Mr. Dyer Sr.'s expression hardened. He was a man of order and tradition. A breach of his rules was a personal affront. He glanced at Cade, a chilling contempt in his eyes. "Cade," he said, his voice dangerously low. "You will rectify this immediately. We will not have such... loose ends at a family event. I will not have my family ridiculed."

Cade, caught between his lie and his father' s wrath, looked like a cornered animal. His gaze fell upon the large, ornamental fountain in the center of the ballroom, its waters sparkling under the lights. His eyes, once full of a false love for me, now held a terrifying resolve. He had to prove his loyalty to his father, to his newfound status.

He walked over to me, his hand reaching out. For a moment, I thought he might actually try to help me. But then his grip tightened, not gently, but with a surprising force that sent a jolt of pain through my arm. "You want to make a scene, Blaire?" he snarled, his voice a low, furious whisper. "Fine. Let's give them a real show."

He dragged me, stumbling, towards the fountain. The guests gasped, shocked by his sudden brutality. Alessandra watched, a cruel smile playing on her lips. I struggled, but the security guards held me fast. Cade pushed them away, his eyes wild. "I'll do it myself!" he snarled.

With a final, sickening shove, he sent me tumbling into the icy water of the fountain. I gasped, the cold stealing my breath, my dress heavy and dragging me down. I thrashed, desperate to surface, but my body felt sluggish, weighted down by the fabric, by the pain, by the sheer horror of his betrayal. The water closed over my head, and I saw Cade's face, cold and unyielding, staring down at me, before darkness consumed me once more.