Chapter 8

The Charlemet-Jordan engagement party transformed Boston’s most exclusive hotel ballroom into a glittering showcase of wealth and influence. Politicians, CEOs, and old-money families mingled beneath crystal chandeliers, everyone who mattered in New England cramming into one opulent space. Agatha floated through the crowd in a hand-stitched designer gown that cost more than most people’s cars. She performed her role flawlessly—the radiant bride-to-be, basking in the adoration of Boston’s elite, every hair and gesture perfectly calculated for maximum effect.

By the bar, Jayden found himself surrounded by his longtime friends, each taking turns slapping his back and toasting his “inevitable surrender to domesticity.”

“About fucking time you put a ring on it,” Tyler laughed, clinking glasses. “After all the shit you two went through.”

Mike nodded, already three drinks in. “You guys were the ultimate power couple at BU before Little Miss Psycho tried wrecking everything. Can’t believe it took this long to seal the deal.”

“Speaking of the nutjob,” Alex chimed in, swirling his bourbon, “anybody know what hole Kimberly crawled into?”

“With the hundred million Jayden basically handed her?” Tyler snorted. “Probably getting railed by pool boys in Turks and Caicos right now. Our boy’s too soft for his own good…”

The mention of Kimberly’s name sent an unexpected jolt through Jayden’s chest. Since that night at the warehouse and her subsequent vanishing act, he’d heard nothing. No social media activity, no mutual connections reporting sightings—she’d evaporated completely, as if Boston’s most notorious sex tape scandal had never happened. He told himself her disappearance was exactly what he wanted—what he’d orchestrated, even. So why did her complete absence from the world feel like a persistent splinter under his skin?

Tyler caught his momentary distraction. “Holy shit, don’t tell me you actually miss that crazy bitch?”

Jayden’s face hardened instantly, ice replacing whatever complicated emotion had briefly surfaced. “After what she did to Agatha? I’d dance on her grave. Don’t ever suggest otherwise.”

Chapter 8

“Message received, chief.” The men exchanged knowing glances, sensing they’d stumbled into dangerous territory.

Just then, Agatha materialized through the crowd, immediately wrapping herself possessively around Jayden’s arm. Her voice shifted to the little-girl pout she used when wanting something expensive.

“That woman from the symphony board just showed me this insane blue diamond necklace her husband bought her,” she whined. “It would look so much better on me…”

Jayden responded without hesitation. “My black card’s in your purse. Buy whatever you want. You don’t need to run minor purchases by me.”

His friends immediately erupted with exaggerated groans.

“Jesus Christ, someone get this man a leash—he’s already collared!” Alex howled.

“Seriously, Agatha,” Tyler grinned, draining his whiskey, “what dark magic did you use on Boston’s most notorious man-whore? Share your secrets with the class.”

Agatha’s smile was radiant, her ego visibly inflating with every word. These past weeks had been a dizzying fantasy of excess—unlimited shopping sprees, celebrity chefs cooking private meals, VIP treatment everywhere they went. Jayden had been almost desperately attentive, as if trying to compress two years of absence into a concentrated blast of devotion. She had absorbed it all like a sponge, sliding effortlessly into the role of Mrs. Charlemet-To-Be.

“No magic necessary,” she demurred, though her eyes glittered with triumph. “We just have that soulmate connection. Always have.”

At precisely nine o’clock, the formal engagement ceremony began.

Just before the ring exchange, the event coordinator stepped to the microphone with a practiced smile.

“As everyone knows, Jayden and Agatha’s love story began back in college,” she announced. “We’ve put together a special video montage of their early romance to remind us all where this beautiful journey started. Let’s watch…”

The assembled guests turned expectantly toward the massive display.

Chapter 8

Instead of nostalgic college footage, the video that appeared sent shockwaves through the ballroom.

“You slept with Jayden, and now your pathetic sex tape is all over campus.” Agatha’s unmistakable voice filled the space. “Did you honestly think spreading your legs would make him want you?”

A horrified silence fell over the crowd as they realized what they were watching—security footage from the night of Agatha’s welcome home party. The crystal-clear video showed Agatha and Kimberly in a private lounge, captured from an overhead angle. Agatha’s face was twisted with malice as she verbally assaulted her half-sister. As Agatha’s hand raised to slap Kimberly, the door opened. Jayden appeared in the frame.

With a speed that revealed extensive practice, Agatha instantly transformed—dropping her raised hand, grabbing cake from a nearby table, shoving it in her mouth, and collapsing to the floor in theatrical distress. Throughout the entire scene, Kimberly never laid a finger on her.

The assembled guests gasped collectively, whispers spreading like wildfire as they absorbed the truth of Agatha’s manufactured victimhood.

Jayden stood frozen, blood draining from his face. He’d been so certain—so absolutely convinced that Kimberly had attacked Agatha out of jealousy. The possibility that the entire allergic reaction had been staged had never once entered his mind.

Before he could begin processing this revelation, the video cut to a scene so disturbing that several guests audibly cried out. A woman with her face digitally blurred was being forcibly restrained by several large men. They poured bottle after bottle of hot sauce down her throat as she struggled and choked. Her desperate pleas for mercy were met with jeering laughter.

“This is what happens when you mess with Jayden’s girl,” one of the men taunted, his voice slightly distorted but still recognizable as Tyler’s.

The footage continued as they tore her clothes, cigarettes appearing as they burned patterns into her exposed skin, all while photographing her degradation from multiple angles.

Jayden felt his heart seize in his chest, a vise-like pressure making it impossible to breathe.

Chapter 8

Despite the pixelation, he knew with sickening certainty—that was Kimberly. And this was what had happened after he’d left her at the warehouse, after he’d told those men he didn’t care what they did to her.