The laughter and chatter of the party echoes behind, taunting me. I barely make it to the front lawn before I collapse.
I sit there, hugging my knees to my chest and finally let the tears spill over.
How did it all go so wrong so fast?
One minute I was planning a wedding, and the next, I’m being thrown out on the street. I feel like a fool, and the pain of it cuts so deep I can hardly breathe.
I hear footsteps behind me, and then Maya’s voice, soft and cautious. “Ky, are you okay?”
I shake my head, my words choked and broken. “I can’t believe he just dumped me. After what he did, he couldn’t even give me the satisfaction of ending things.”
“He’s such an ass,” Maya says, kneeling beside me, her hand on my back. “Forget about him.”
I shake my head harder, unable to stop the tears. “But what am I going to do? Where am I going to live? How will I make money? And my mom…”
Maya hesitates, then says, “I’ll ask James if you can stay with us for a bit.”
The mention of James makes me cringe. “James hates me,” I say, my voice cracking. “He thinks I’m beneath you, just like all these other rich assholes.”
“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…”
She trails off, wincing. She knows I’m right.
Maya and I bonded one night at a party a couple years ago—the first I ever went to with Alex. We both shared a laugh at the food table over the absurdity of the word “crudité.”
We don’t have much in common otherwise, but she’s always been a friendly face. Someone who isn’t embarrassed to be seen talking to the outsider that somehow snagged Alex Worthington.
I know I’d always have a place to stay with her if I pushed but—
Wham!
I look up just as the mansion doors swing open.
Eliza is standing there, a smug smile plastered on her face. She holds something in her hand, and it takes me a second to realize what it is—a tissue box.
“Yoohoo, honey!” she calls out, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Here’s a box for your move.”
Before I can react, she tosses it, and it lands with a dull thud on the grass beside me. She and her friends burst into laughter.
The door slams shut, and it’s that sharp, final crash that makes something in me snap.
Something sharp and strong slices through the hurt I’m feeling.
Rage.
White-hot, searing fury that clears away the fog of despair.
I wipe my eyes and look down at the tissue box. Everyone inside is probably laughing at me, and it’s like I can hear their unspoken words. Pathetic. Weak. Stupid.
I’ve had enough.
I shove the tissue box aside, get to my feet, and storm back into the house.
If Alex thinks I’m just going to slink away and disappear, he’s got another thing coming.
I push through the crowded hallway, barely aware of the curious stares. All I can think about is the humiliation, the pain, and the burning need to make him regret every second of what he did to me tonight.
Just as I’m about to step onto the first step of the grand double staircase, Maya puts a hand on my shoulder.
“Kylie, what are you doing?” she asks, her voice tight with worry.
“Alex thinks I was making a scene,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I’ll show him a scene.”
Her eyes widen and panic flashes across her face. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” I say, my lips curling into a bitter smile, “That Alex better brace himself. Because he’s about to be thoroughly humiliated.”
I shake off her grip and march up the stairs, my gaze locked on the balcony above. I can hear the party buzzing below, people laughing and chatting, blissfully unaware of what’s about to happen.
I reach the top and stand at the center of the two staircases, then look down at the sea of faces beneath me. My chest tightens with a mix of fear and exhilaration.
“EXCUSE ME!” I shout. “CAN I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE?
No one listens. My eyes dart to an ornate vase sitting on a pedestal beside me. Without thinking, I give it a hard shove. It topples over, falling down, down, down, until—
CRASH!
The room goes silent. Hundreds of eyes turn toward me, and I spot Alex. For the first time tonight, he looks truly scared, the smirk wiped clean off his face.
Too late, baby.
I savor the shock that flickers across Alex’s face. It’s a small victory, but I need it. I need to see him squirm.
“Sorry about the vase,” I say, my voice loud and clear, echoing off the high ceilings. “I’m a little on edge because I just got dumped by my former fiancé… Alex Worthington.”
Gasps ripple through the room. Whispers. Murmurs. Heads turn, eyes darting between Alex and me. I can see people nudging each other, some wearing smirks, others looking genuinely stunned.
I guess no one expected drama like this at a fancy, upscale party.
I smile, letting the tension build. “That’s right. He dumped me. Then he fired me and kicked me out of the house. All after I caught him cheating with that woman right there.” I point down at Eliza, who looks like she wants to crawl under the nearest table.
Good. Let her feel a little of the humiliation she was so eager to dish out.
“She’s his personal assistant? That can’t be legal, right?”
There’s a wave of whispers now, louder this time. I catch a few phrases—“Is she serious?” “Did she just say Alex Worthington?” —and see the glances people are shooting in his direction.
Alex is glaring at me. His face is pale and his eyes wide with fury, but he doesn’t move. It’s like he’s frozen, trapped by the spectacle I’m creating.
I lift my chin, letting my anger fuel me. “But you know what?” I continue, my voice steady, even as my hands tremble. “I’m down, but I’m far from out. I’ve still got a lot to offer.”
I spread my arms, addressing the entire room. “So I’d like to auction myself off to all you filthy rich assholes. Who needs a girlfriend?”