THE UNEXPECTED BOUND AND BETRAYAL

Chapter three: The Gala

I baked the cake myself the next morning — a birthday gift for Mr. Marcus, Andrew's father, the one member of that family who had never once made me feel small.

By the time I arrived at the gala, the ballroom was already full: crystal glasses, low music, the kind of wealth that made a room feel colder instead of warmer. Heads turned as I walked in. I felt every one of those glances land on me and slide away, already judging.

Maya found me before I'd ev

en made it past the entrance.

"Charlotte." She looked me over, feigning surprise. "I really didn't think you'd show up looking this good."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "What did you bring for Mr. Marcus?"

"A cake," I said, lifting it slightly.

She let out a laugh, loud enough that heads turned toward us. "A cake?"

Whispers rippled through the room. A cake, for a man like Marcus Whitemore's birthday? What a joke.

I held my chin up. "So what if it's a cake? Do you have a problem with it?"

"Charlotte, darling! How are you?"

Mr. Marcus was already crossing the room toward me, warmth in his voice that I hadn't heard from anyone in that family in longer than I could remember. I stepped forward to meet him —

— and Maya's foot slid into my path.

I didn't even see it happen. One second I was walking, the next I was on the floor, the cake shattering against the marble, frosting spread across my dress. Laughter rippled through the crowd before I'd even managed to sit up.

Mr. Marcus started toward me, hand outstretched to help — but Andrew caught his arm first.

"Dad, don't bother," he said, loud enough for the room to hear. "Charlotte's always like this. Clumsy. Incompetent at basically everything."

The laughter grew louder.

Mr. Marcus rounded on his son, his voice sharp enough to cut through the noise. "Is this how you treat your wife?" He struck Andrew's leg with his cane. "You brat."

I was still on the floor, humiliation burning hotter than the fall itself, when a hand appeared in front of me.

I looked up. Mr. Ashford.

He said nothing — just helped me to my feet with a steadiness that made the whole spinning room go still for a moment. That same strange current passed between us again, the one I still didn't have a name for, the one I definitely shouldn't have been feeling in a room full of people who already thought the worst of me.

"Mr. Ashford!" Mr. Marcus's face lit with surprise as he crossed toward us, all irritation with Andrew apparently forgotten. The two men shook hands like old acquaintances.

"You're always welcome at my birthday, of course," Mr. Marcus said warmly. Then his eyes moved to me, then back to Ashford, curiosity sharpening his expression.

"Do you know my daughter-in-law?"

The whole room seemed to lean in, waiting.

Ashford looked at me for a moment longer than he needed to.

"Maybe," he said. "I guess."