Chapter 17
Lydia’s nose wrinkled with disgust. “Cut the act. If you’re gonna pretend, at least get your lines straight.”
She set the empty glass down on a nearby table, her voice icy. “We were best friends for years. You know I’m allergic to
mangoes.”
Ciara caught the sarcasm in Lydia’s words, her anger flaring. But with Michael watching, she bit it back. Then she remembered his dismissive attitude from that morning, and the rage began to simmer beneath her surface.
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She glanced at Lydia, who looked utterly calm and composed. A flash of jealousy burned in her eyes as she thought, ‘Now that Michael still sees her as his perfect plus–one, I’ll make sure to take her down.’
“Oh, silly me–how could I forget?” Ciara dropped her gaze, feigning innocence. “I’m just trying to help you out. Why are you being so snappy? It’s just a cupcake. What’s the big deal?”
The tension drew curious glances from nearby guests.
Lydia almost laughed at her shamelessness. “Please. Half of Jettridge probably heard you plotting.” She turned to Michael. “Did you bring her here just to make a fool of herself?”
Michael felt the weight of surrounding stares. He grabbed Ciara’s arm, cutting off whatever she was about to say. “Enough,” he said quietly.
His rebuke only made Ciara more bitter. A sharp, secret smile tugged at her lips. “Come on, it’s not like I’m out to get you, Lydia. I just don’t want you getting wasted and causing trouble for Michael.”
As Ciara wasn’t backing down, Lydia drew in a sharp breath, ready to unleash a cutting response. But in an instant, Ciara abruptly shoved a slice of mango into her mouth.
Lydia froze, staring at Ciara in shock. Immediately, she doubled over, choking and desperately trying to spit out the mango.
Lydia never expected Ciara to make a move right in front of Michael–didn’t she always want to appear delicate and helpless in his eyes?
Finally, the mango hit the floor, but the damage was already done. Within moments, red welts began spreading across Lydia’s face, and her breathing grew increasingly labored.
People began to crowd around, whispering and casting not–so–subtle glances at Lydia, Michael, and Ciara.
Lydia clawed at the hives on her cheek with one hand, reaching for Michael with the other–he was closest. “Help me…” she pleaded, her voice tight.
Michael saw the panic in her eyes and started to move. But Ciara grabbed his arm, holding him back. Following her silent glance, he noticed the stares–curious, judgmental–and his feet felt rooted to the floor.
The hives spread thicker, creeping up the one–shouldered neckline of Lydia’s dress. Her vision started to blur.
Suddenly, a man with glasses pushed through the crowd. Seeing Lydia about to collapse, he rushed over while shouting,
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Chapter 17
“Out of the way!”
72%
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Lydia’s eyelids fluttered shut. Darkness swallowed her, and the noise around her faded. Fragments flickered through her mind–snippets of a lonely childhood, the sting of broken relationships, and the like.
In the far blur of her vision, there was a figure. He sat wrapped in soft light, eyes warm and gentle, a hand reaching out to her.
In the small lounge off the hall, the Leonard family doctor tucked his stethoscope away, letting out a relieved breath. “Lucky she only had a little mango, and we got the allergy shot in fast. Otherwise, it could’ve been a lot worse.
“The hives are calming down, and her breathing’s steady. But keep an eye on her–allergies can flare back up.”
Michael grabbed Lydia’s wrist, his thumb brushing over the red, swollen welts creeping across her skin. He felt the heat radiating off her, and his face clouded over.
Lydia seemed to feel a little better because of it. Her tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed.
Outside the lounge, chaos erupted. Suddenly, a sharp slap cut through the noise, silencing the crowd.
Ciara’s head whipped to the side from the strike. She gaped up at the elegantly dressed Rachel–then another slap landed. Two in a row, and something inside Ciara snapped.
“Why’d you hurt Lydia?” Rachel’s voice was a sharp glare, every inch the mother bear protecting her cub.
Michael’s face burned–his date getting slapped in front of everyone was beyond embarrassing. He stepped between Ciara and Rachel, his voice razor–sharp. “Whatever happened, this isn’t the way to handle it.”
“My daughter almost died because of her!” Rachel fired back. She’d been fed up with Michael for a while. The Hollander name carried weight in Jettridge, and to her, Finnian Group was just some wannabe trying to steal their lunch.
Ciara sniffled, her cheeks puffy and red. “I didn’t know the allergy was that bad. I just wanted to help Lydia.”
Rachel didn’t buy the act for a second. “That’s your idea of help? You nearly killed her.” Her gaze flicked to Michael, and she scoffed, “Oh, I see. You think if Lydia’s out of the way, you can have him all to yourself, right?”
Michael’s expression soured as Rachel dragged him into it. “That’s too harsh-”
Suddenly, Rachel slapped him. A red handprint bloomed on his cheek.
Rachel flexed her hand, her eyes blazing at Ciara and Michael. “If I catch either of you bullying Lydia again, it won’t stop at slaps.”
The crowd quickly rallied around Rachel, praising her maternal devotion. Ciara and Michael got only stares, sharp and judgmental.
Rachel slipped through the crowd to a secluded corner, and only then did a cold, triumphant smile spread across her face. ‘Hayden always claims we’re just using Lydia to brush him off,’ she thought. ‘But after I defended her in public, he can’t
t say
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Chapter 17
that anymore. This proves that our family cares about Lydia, even though she isn’t a Hollander.‘
The event continued as if nothing had happened. Only the incident became the evening’s prime gossip.
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Soft piano music drifted into the lounge, and Lydia’s eyes fluttered open. She sat up suddenly, gasping for air like she’d just broken the surface of deep water.
Hayden’s hand moved to her back, rubbing slow, steady circles. “Easy,” he said. “Breathe. Take it slow.”
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