Day 2 of the rich people ceremony, Althea officially gave up on the concept of emotions. Her body ached from stiffness. Her feet had filed for divorce. And if one more auntie told her she "glowed like a goddess," she was going to drown herself on the garden fountain.
The party had mostly fizzled down to the social elite equivalent of post-credit scenes: networking, compliments said with teeth, and champagne flutes clinking like passive-aggressive applause. Althea slipped away to a quieter corner of the hall, high heels in hand, clenched fist on other.
The engagement ring. Or more specifically, Alaya's engagement ring.
She found her sitting near the balcony, swirling something fizzy in a glass and looking like the CEO of emotionally unavailable elegance.
"Nice ring," Alaya said, without looking.
"Wrong hand," Althea replied. "Yours."
Alaya finally glanced over, brows raised. "You sure? I hear beige deception is all the rage."
Althea plopped beside her and handed her the diamond ring which is also big for Althea's finger. "Here. I was just the casting choice. Temporary stand-in. The role of You, but with better lighting."
Alaya took it then sighed. "You know this doesn't fix things."
"I know," Althea said, resting her head back. "But it's a start."
She looked exhausted in a beautiful way. Like the final scene of a tragic film where the actress had cried three times and still looked flawless. Except instead of tears, there were just emotional support cake crumbs and suppressed screaming.
Just then, a blur of velvet, sarcasm, and questionable intent strolled in again wherever these two goes. Max.
He was carrying Lilith, who was wearing a bowtie. Max himself had the smug aura of someone who hadn't been emotionally compromised in years.
"You left your emotional support tiara in the hallway," he said, dropping next to them. "I assume it wasn't a real engagement until someone cried in the bathroom?"
"Twice," Althea said without missing a beat. "Aunt Lira and me. I won the silent sob category."
Lilith meowed and nestled into Althea's lap without consent, as was her tradition.
Max glanced at the ring in Alaya's hand. "Ah, the ring. Re-gifted already? Harsh."
"She's not re-gifting," Alaya said calmly. "She's returning it to the rightful protagonist."
Max looked at Althea then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Admiration, maybe. Worry, definitely. And something else — something sharper.
It wasn't just about the ring. It was about the performance Althea had pulled off. Perfect bride. Obedient daughter. Diplomatic buffer. And now, the girl who might take all the blame when this whole circus burns down.
Max didn't like that. He didn't like how she carried it alone. He also didn't like how she looked at Adrian sometimes. Like she was still halfway in a memory.
Adrian arrived moments later, trailing the kind of charisma that made mothers approve and daughters reconsider their life plans. He wore a suit like it owed him money, and when he saw Alaya, his face lit up like a romantic drama's finale.
"Thought I'd find the trio hiding here," he said, sliding an arm around Alaya like it was always meant to be there.
Alaya leaned in effortlessly, letting her fingers trail along his lapel. "And you still showed up. Brave."
Adrian chuckled. "I missed your insults. And your face. Mostly your face."
Althea looked away. Because of course they were beautiful together. One radiant with self-assurance, the other polished with charm. They were like a power couple ad that also came with trauma bonding.
She smiled politely. The kind that says I'm fine in the same tone one might say I'm on fire.
Max noticed. Of course he did. Lilith, still in her lap, flicked her tail. Possibly in judgment. Possibly in solidarity.
Adrian turned to Althea. "Thanks again. For everything. I know it was a lot."
Althea shrugged. "Hey, I got free makeup, temporary clout, and rich people dessert. It's basically a wellness retreat. Now just wait for the D-Day."
Adrian laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. Max stared at him with the expression of a man who'd like to throw him into a fountain just to see if charm floats.
Alaya broke the tension. "Alright, you dramatic theater kids, I'm hungry. Someone point me toward cake."
She stood and dragged Adrian with her, like a queen claiming her prize. He went willingly. Althea watched them go.
Max didn't say anything at first. Just let Lilith stretch across both their laps like a judgmental throw pillow.
Then he said, "You going to let them make you the villain in this story, too?"
Althea blinked. "I thought I already was."
"Only if you let it end here."
She looked at him. Really looked.
He wasn't charming like Adrian. He didn't dazzle. But he noticed. Always somehow.
She smiled, smaller this time. Quieter. But more real.
"What would you do?" she asked.
Max looked at the ring box still in Alaya's hand across the room.
"Probably fake my death and start a new life as a bakery chef after killing Adrian and Alaya."
"Valid. Not the murder part though."
"But you?" he said. "You could rewrite the whole story. Just don't let them hand you the script and call it a favor."
Lilith sneezed.
Somewhere in the background, Alaya and Adrian were flirting over cake like a royal couple in exile. Althea stood. Wobbly but firm.
"I think it's time for an epilogue. Or maybe an encore."
Max tilted his head but stayed silent.
As Althea walked off, Max watched her go. Lilith gave a single approving meow.
Max didn't follow her. Instead, he picked Lilith up with one arm and slipped through the corridors toward the back garden entrance, where the family was seated for the "inner circle unwind." It was rich people gossiping while pretending to be spiritually connected.
His father spotted him immediately. "Max. Finally."
Lilith yawned.
"Sit down," his mother added, smiling that smile that meant there were at least three critiques coming with dessert. Max sat. Quietly. Lilith remained on his lap like an emotional buffer.
His father was already swirling a glass. "You could learn a thing or two from your brother, you know. That was a perfect ceremony. Elegant. Strategic."
Max raised an eyebrow. "Strategic. That's what we're calling soul-crushing today?"
"Don't be dramatic," his father snapped. "It's about family. Reputation. The Solaces are valuable allies. Adrian did what needed to be done."
Max continued petting Lilith calmly.
"He understands responsibility," his father continued. "Legacy. You need to think about your own path. You spend too much time with that cat and your... God knows what."
Lilith blinked slowly, like she was considering arson. Max offered no argument. Just scratched behind her ears.
His mother chimed in, gentler. "You always did have... a different temperament. But Max, darling, you can't float forever."
Max looked at them. Really looked. Then said, "You know she's going to blow it all up, right?"
His father frowned. "Who?"
"Althea."
They exchanged glances.
"Then she'll only have herself to blame," his father said. Dismissive.
Max smiled. Not the warm kind. The kind Lilith would approve of.
"Or maybe she'll take the whole production down with her."
He stood up.
"Enjoy your legacy. I'm going to go find dessert."
Lilith meowed her approval.
End of Chapter 16.