Chapter 3

Three days later, there was a charity gala.

The invitation had come to me as Owen James's date.

But it was Abner Henson's arm I walked in on.

Abner was in a sharp suit, tall and easy and gracious, and the moment he appeared he drew every eye in the room.

We became the center of the whole gala.

Plenty of people knew me, knew I was the woman Owen James, president of James Group, had been with for seven years.

They looked at the man beside me, and their eyes were full of curiosity and gossip.

I stayed perfectly composed, smiling and exchanging small talk with everyone who came up to greet me.

Until Owen arrived.

He hadn't come alone.

On his arm was Teresa Fox.

Teresa wore a strapless gown tonight, her makeup flawless.

And around her neck, in plain sight, hung that jade necklace.

Under the ballroom lights, that green shimmered and glowed, and it drove straight into my eyes.

My breath stopped.

The air around me went solid.

I could feel countless glances sweeping back and forth between me, Owen, and Teresa.

Pity, mockery, the anticipation of a good show.

Abner felt me go rigid and, without a flicker, tightened his hand around mine.

His palm was warm and dry.

"I'm right here."

He said it low.

I drew a deep breath, my nails digging into my palm.

Owen's gaze crossed the crowd and landed straight on me.

There was warning in it, displeasure, and something else I couldn't read.

He clearly hadn't expected me to come with Abner.

And he certainly hadn't expected me to see this.

A lady I knew came over with a glass of wine, feigning surprise.

"Miss Pruitt, what a coincidence. And this is?"

Her gaze made a circuit of Abner, then slid off to Owen and Teresa in the distance.

"Has Mr. James changed dates tonight? That necklace on the young lady beside him is quite something. Looks almost like a James family heirloom."

Her voice wasn't loud, wasn't soft, just enough for the whole ring of people around us to hear.

She was doing it on purpose, to shame me.

It felt like someone was slapping my face, over and over.

A raw, burning sting.

I forced the smile to stay at the corners of my mouth, and it was nearly more than I could hold.

Just as I was about to find some excuse and slip away.

Abner suddenly stepped forward and drew me half against him, the gesture intimate.

He gave the lady a slight smile, his tone mild.

"Mrs. Lambert, I think you're mistaken."

"Dora is my date now."

He paused, his gaze turning to me.

"We're seeing each other."

The room broke into a stir.

The look on Mrs. Lambert's face went through a whole show of expressions.

Owen's face went black as still water in an instant.

I lifted my head, met his eyes, raised my glass to him, and smiled bright.

"Mr. James has always had good taste. In assistants, and in necklaces."

I brushed past the awkward subject like it was nothing, then turned to Abner.

"Let's go over there and toast someone."

I took Abner's arm and moved easily through the crowd, without giving Owen another look.

I knew he was watching me from behind.

Teresa seemed rattled by the whole scene, tugging timidly at Owen's sleeve.

"Owen, did I cause trouble for you? Did I make Dora misunderstand?"

Her voice was low, but I heard it.

If that was the best she could do to stir things up, it wasn't much.

I didn't slow my steps.

I didn't want to spend one more second at this gala.

Abner and I left early.

Once I was in the car, the nerves I'd held so tight finally loosened.

"If you want to cry, cry."

Abner handed me a tissue.

I shook my head and forced the tears back.

"He's not worth it."

Crying over a man like Owen was beneath me.

Abner said nothing more, just started the car.

Halfway there, a sharp cramp seized my stomach.

Cold sweat broke out at once.

"What's wrong?"

Abner caught it immediately, that something was off with me.

"My stomach… it hurts…"

The pain was so bad I couldn't get the words out whole, and I curled up against the seat.

"Don't be scared. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

Abner's voice stayed steady as he swung the car around and headed for the nearest hospital.

Through the pain, my mind blurred at the edges.

Without thinking, I fished out my phone and, on pure muscle memory, dialed that number I knew by heart.

It rang for a long time before it was answered.

But the voice on the other end was a woman's.

"Hello? Are you looking for Owen?"

It was Teresa.

My heart sank to the very bottom in that instant.

"He's in the shower. Is there something you need? You can tell me, I'll pass it on."

There was a trace of triumph in her voice, the satisfaction of staking her claim.

I couldn't hold on any longer. The world went black, and I lost consciousness completely.