The longer Alice stayed with Aaron's family, the more she felt like a third wheel. Aaron's subtly declining mood exacerbated this.

Initially, she thought she was imagining it. His demeanor shifted gradually, a degree at a time, unlike his usual abrupt changes. But after two weeks, he was noticeably colder than before her arrival.

She had never understood the burden she placed on others. Everything had always been easily available to her. Accustomed to others' assistance, she'd never considered the toll it took.

Keeley, clearly exhausted from helping Alice while caring for two babies, was passed out on her husband. He sat upright on the couch, legs stretched out before him. Originally, she had been sitting too, but her head now lolled to the side. Aaron had carefully repositioned her to ease any neck pain upon waking. His arms were wrapped around her, the "ice king" Alice knew radiating contentment.

Initially, Aaron's transformation around his wife had been striking. Even after her extended stay, Alice remained unaccustomed to it. No one in their social circle would believe her account.

A pang of realization struck her: it wasn't their social circle anymore. Aaron had left by choice; she had been essentially banished. While she didn't miss catering to the Kellys or engaging in insincere conversations, it was all she knew.

What was she to do? How could she make genuine friends, having never had any?

Alice's only rebellion had been her high school friendships. She primarily associated with girls who could afford private school but weren't high society. They were well-off, but their families were relatively unknown.

She spent as much time as possible with them until overhearing a bathroom conversation shortly before graduation. Her closest friend, Lisa, expressed relief at no longer having to pretend once they reached college.

"Ugh, she doesn't have a single original thought! All she cares about is status and shopping. I only endured this because she got me into parties where I could meet high-society boys. Now that I'm going to Virginia, there's no need. I'll find someone else to latch onto. I always do."

"You're so bad, Lisa," her friend Jennifer laughed. "Poor girl probably thinks you're her best friend."

"I am her best friend. She's just not mine."

Unshed tears clung to Alice's eyelashes as she hid in a stall, remaining until they were gone. Composing herself, she exited, washed her hands, and walked out with her head held high. She never spoke to them again.

In college, she was more cautious about her friendships. Clearly, her judgment was flawed, so she stuck with those her parents approved of. At least she knew what to expect.

She remained friendly but trusted no one until Aaron unexpectedly reappeared. She'd seen her prom date a few times at holiday parties over the past couple of years, but that was all, given their different college locations. They hadn't spoken since.

About two years before marrying Brock, as his fiancée, she was expected to cater to the Kellys, in addition to her own family, at parties. Her future mother-in-law, Beatrice, was scolding her aside from the banquet hall at the annual Christmas party.

Maintaining a false smile and low tone to appear pleasant, she felt tiny and insignificant.

"You don't have to let the Kellys walk all over you like that," a cold voice said from her left.

She turned to see Aaron Hale leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, looking cool and composed. She'd almost forgotten his usual impassivity; it was unnerving.

Taken aback, she took a moment to process his words. Feeling angry and embarrassed, she used her best passive-aggressive high-society language. "I beg your pardon?"

He shrugged. "I have a way to prevent them from suppressing you, if you're interested."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you mean," she sniffed. "If you'll excuse me, I have acquaintances to talk to."

Alice stormed off elegantly, conveying her anger. As expected, Aaron didn't follow.

She encountered him again a week later at a New Year's Eve party. His expression remained bland, his tone monotone.

"Have you given any consideration to my proposal?"

She gave him her most disdainful look. "Your proposal is ridiculous and unnecessary. I'm doing perfectly fine on my own."

"Suit yourself," he said nonchalantly. "I merely thought you might be interested in having some power in the financial sector. I know your family won't give you any because you're a girl. They'll give some shares to your fiancé, but you'll never touch them."

Alice frowned, unsure how he knew this. It was her family's business; she was certain her parents hadn't discussed it with anyone outside the Kellys.

"So?" she managed.

"I have some shares in Hale Investments I can't currently use. I need someone to hold them for a while."

This sounded suspicious. No one gave away company shares expecting their return.

"Why would I do something so idiotic? First you say you can give me shares so the Kellys won't suppress me, then you say you'll take them away?" she asked incredulously.

Aaron shrugged. "It's simple. You'll have power and prestige as a shareholder at Hale Investments for however long I need you to. Once I take the shares back, I'll be your ally for life. Even the Kelly family wouldn't dare go against a Hale."

He had a point. The Hales were the top family; no one challenged them. Alice's father constantly complained about being second to Alistair Hale.

Still unconvinced, she said, "I don't want to be caught up in your drama, Aaron. Find someone else."

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