Having forgotten her history with Dylan and firmly decided to move on, Harper found herself completely unmoved by the gossip swirling around her. Whoever Dylan loved or married had zero relevance to her life anymore. She quietly stood in the shadows during the birthday song, and when she glanced up afterward, she accidentally locked eyes with Dylan across the crowded room. His expression immediately hardened. He leaned over and muttered something to Jemma, who scanned the crowd until spotting Harper, then broke away from her admirers.
“Harper! You made it!” Jemina exclaimed, throwing her arms around her friend. Harper hugged her back and slipped the carefully wrapped gift into her hand. “Happy birthday, rockstar. Wouldn’t miss it.”
Jemma, who’d clearly been waiting for her all night, tried dragging her toward the massive cake. “Come on, there’s champagne and Dad ordered that chocolate panache thing you love!”
Harper gently resisted. “It’s a complete zoo over there. You go do your birthday queen thing. I’ll hang in your room—I actually need to talk to you about something important.”
Jemma hesitated, clearly concerned about leaving Harper alone, but nodded. “Give me twenty minutes to cut the cake, and I’ll sneak away.”
Avoiding the crush of Manhattan’s elite, Harper navigated to Jemma’s third-floor bedroom, a path she could walk blindfolded after all these years. After waiting nearly forty minutes on the plush window seat, exhaustion hit her like a wave. She leaned her head back, just for a moment.
The sound of the door opening roused her. “Jemma?” she mumbled sleepily. But when her vision cleared, she found herself staring at Ruby instead. Ruby stood rigidly in the doorway, her perfect features contorted with barely contained fury.
“What part of ‘he doesn’t want you’ don’t you understand?” she demanded. “I thought you said you were over him. So why do you keep showing up everywhere, Dylan’s shadow? Let me spell it out for you—he only has eyes for me. You can pull all the desperate little stunts you want, but he’s never going to pick you. You couldn’t compete with me in college, and you sure as hell can’t now.”
Blindsided by this ambush, Harper needed a moment to process. “I’m literally just here for Jemma’s birthday,” she replied evenly. “I’m leaving town tomorrow, anyway.”
At this, Ruby’s expression only hardened, disgust twisting her features. For years, you’ve thrown yourself at Dylan like some pathetic groupie with zero self-respect. Your whole strategy has been manipulating Jemma and playing the sad, best friend card. Dylan’s stuck with such a clueless, disloyal sister—talk about damaged goods.
Harper could handle whatever venom Ruby spewed about her personally. But the instant Jemma was attacked, something cold and hard sealed in Harper’s chest.
“Does Dylan know you trash-talk his sister behind his back?” she asked quietly.
Faced with this challenge, Ruby let out a caustic laugh. “Dylan would walk through fire for me. I can say whatever the hell I want.” She tossed her hair back. “Besides, you and Jemma are both trashy social climbers—no class, no boundaries. Am I wrong? You’re only getting defensive because I hit a nerve, right?”
“Seven years ago, you ghosted him without warning and fled to Europe. He nearly drank himself to death. Jemma was devastated for her brother, but she never said a single bad word about you,” Harper’s voice grew steelier. “Now you’re back trying to pick up where you left off, but behind closed doors you’re trashing his only sister? Who’s the toxic one here?”
Ruby hadn’t expected such direct pushback. With a strangled sound of rage, she slapped Harper hard across the face. Harper didn’t hesitate. She returned the slap with equal force, the impact echoing in the room.
“You psycho bitch!” Ruby shrieked, lunging forward and grabbing a fistful of Harper’s hair. Harper fought back, tangling her fingers in Ruby’s perfect blowout and yanking back. In their struggle, they crashed into Jemma’s side table, knocking over a high-end essential oil diffuser with an open flame.
The fire caught the edge of the duvet, then raced across to the antique rug, surrounding them with terrifying speed. By the time they broke apart and noticed, thick smoke was already filling the room. Harper staggered toward the door, but Ruby shoved her violently from behind, sending her sprawling dangerously close to the intensifying flames.
Searing pain shot through Harper’s arm as her sleeve caught fire. She screamed, frantically trying to extinguish it. Through her panic, the bedroom door crashed open. Dylan burst in, his expression wild with fear. For a split second, their eyes met—Harper’s pleading, his alarmed. But his gaze immediately locked onto Ruby instead. He rushed straight to her, scooping her up protectively against his chest.
Choking on the thickening smoke, Harper’s vision began to blur. Desperate, she reached out with her burned hand, clutching weakly at Dylan’s pant leg. He glanced down coldly, deliberately shook her off, and strode out with Ruby in his arms. As his silhouette disappeared into the smoke-filled hallway, Harper’s consciousness finally slipped into darkness.