Chapter 18

Though Dylan had publicly backed Ruby’s plagiarism bid, his attitude toward her had grown increasingly frosty since their return from New York. Ruby paced her penthouse, blood boiling at the realization that Dylan was still hung up on Harper. Even after being thoroughly humiliated and driven out of the industry like yesterday’s trash, somehow Harper still had her claws in him.

Furious, Ruby grabbed her phone and fired off a text to Dylan: “Think I’m getting sick, temp’s 101. Could you bring some Tylenol? Don’t want to bother my assistant this late.”

Despite his recent coolness, Dylan still responded to the damsel-in-distress routine. Some patterns were hard to break. When he arrived at Ruby’s luxury condo, he found her sprawled dramatically across her designer sofa in a barely-there silk slip, looking completely healthy. The setup couldn’t have been more obvious.

His jaw tightened as he turned to leave, but Ruby sprang up and caught his arm. “Okay, I’m not sick,” she admitted, her voice deliberately vulnerable. “You’ve just been so distant lately; I was afraid you were slipping away.”

Her calculated vulnerability softened his irritation somewhat. Sensing her opening, Ruby pressed on. “Have dinner with me? I had Nella Talia deliver your favorite pasta.”

Dylan reluctantly settled at her already-set table. Ruby poured two glasses from an ornate decanter, sliding one toward him. After a few sips, Dylan felt an unusual warmth spreading through his body. His collar suddenly felt constrictive, and his thoughts began to blur.

Seeing his reaction, Ruby immediately slid onto his lap, her fingers working at his shirt buttons. Even through his drug-induced haze, Dylan recognized what was happening. He shoved her off with enough force to send her sprawling onto the Italian marble floor.

Ruby stared up at him in genuine shock, clearly not having anticipated resistance to whatever she’d slipped into his drink. Dylan staggered toward the door, but Ruby scrambled after him, wrapping herself around him from behind.

“Dylan, please,” she begged, clinging desperately. “Don’t go—I need you.”

In one swift motion, he spun around and pinned her against the wall, his eyes blazing. “For years, I put you on a pedestal,” he growled. “Every selfish, manipulative thing you did, I excused because I thought you were different. But drugging me? What the actual hell is wrong with you?”

Repeatedly rejected and now physically restrained, Ruby’s carefully maintained facade finally shattered. “You’re turning me down because you’re still obsessed with that pathetic little drama queen, aren’t you?” she spat.

“This has nothing to do with Harper.”

Ruby let out a harsh, unhinged laugh. “Bullshit! You’ve spent years pretending she disgusted you, but the truth is, you got off on her attention. You’ve always had a thing for her!”

Staring at the twisted expression on the face he’d once worshipped, Dylan felt something cold settle in his stomach. “You need professional help. I mean it.”

With that, he pushed past her and walked out.

Back at his apartment, after working through the effects of whatever Ruby had doped him with, Dylan lay in bed replaying her accusation: “You got off on her attention. You’ve always had a thing for her.” He turned the words over in his mind, then reached for the photo fragments he’d impulsively kept from the amusement park.

Running his thumb across the tattered edges, memories flooded back—Harper appearing at his office with black coffee and a croissant after late nights; Harper creating mock-ups for presentations when his team was overwhelmed; Harper somehow remembering his mother’s favorite flowers when he’d completely forgotten Mother’s Day!

Only now did Dylan have to admit that Ruby was right. Somewhere along the way, he’d grown accustomed to Harper’s unwavering devotion, maybe even come to rely on it.

The next morning, Dylan met his sister at her favorite coffee shop. “The security footage you mentioned—where is it?”

Jemma looked up from her latte, momentarily confused. “What security footage?”

“From the fire in your bedroom. The video of Ruby and Harper.”

Jemma’s expression morphed into unmistakable contempt. “Oh, now you want to see it? Whatever happened to ‘I don’t need evidence, I believe Ruby no matter what’? Did she finally show her true colors?”

Dylan had no defense. Seeing his silence, Jemma twisted the knife. “Too late, Danny. Harper texted me yesterday—she and Tyler Scott are officially a couple.”

“She’s WHAT?” Dylan’s voice rose sharply, causing nearby customers to turn and stare.

Jemma flinched slightly before recovering. “You heard me. Harper and Tyler are together now. For real.”

Dylan shook his head in disbelief. “No way. She’s just using him to make me jealous.”

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Jemma snapped, incredulous. “She literally doesn’t remember you; why would she try to make someone jealous when she doesn’t even remember having feelings for them?”

But Dylan barely registered her words, already spiraling. “That’s not possible,” he muttered, more to himself than to Jemma. “She can’t be with him. She’s supposed to love me.”