Chapter 2

The crowd jeered playfully, but the weight of their stares pressed on me like a physical thing.

Expressionless, I downed my glass. I reached for the bottle to pour another, but Scarlett suddenly stepped forward, blocking my hand.

"Hey, don't bully Layla." Her voice dripped with faux concern. "She's all alone. If she gets drunk, who's going to take her home? Or are you planning to let her crash at your place?"

I looked at her—really looked at her—then sidestepped her to pick up the glass again.

"I don't recall having a sister," I said coolly, "but I appreciate the concern."

I paused, letting the liquid swirl in the glass. "However, I'm not single."

The retort hung in the air. Scarlett's expression curdled instantly.

The room went dead silent. Every gaze that had been pinned on me shifted to James.

In the dim, pulsing light of the club, his hand tightened around his empty glass. Knuckles bleached white. Tendons straining as if he were seconds away from crushing the crystal into dust.

After a tense silence, he arched a brow. His voice was ice. "Then why isn't your boyfriend here?"

"He's picking me up at midnight."

The atmosphere shifted from awkward to suffocating.

Maya scanned the room, sensing the impending disaster. She sighed loudly, grabbed the dice cup, and slammed it onto the table.

"Hey! We agreed no one goes home until they're wasted! Come on, let's play!"

Scarlett tugged at the hem of James's shirt, pouting. "But my tolerance is so bad. 'No one goes home until they're drunk'? That's just bullying."

Maya choked on her drink. The rest of the room froze.

James reached out, smoothing Scarlett's hair with a gentle hand. "Don't be afraid. I'll drink for you."

"I can't bear to let you drink that much," she whined.

Then her eyes darted toward me. A sly glint flashed in them.

"Layla, I saw you down that wine without even blinking. You must have an amazing tolerance." She chirped the words like a compliment. "How about you drink for me? Please?"

Someone in the corner frowned, unable to watch anymore. "James, rein in your woman. It's rare we all get together—don't push it."

"She's always been the one controlling me." James held the wine glass out to me, his tone indifferent. "Your tolerance is good. Why don't we split Scarlett's share? Half and half."

I stood frozen.

My fingertips began to tremble.

When James and I first got together, he wasn't the owner of a high-end floral chain. We were just two kids at the flower base, squeezed into a cramped dorm room, dreaming of a future where we'd open a shop in the city center.

We lived like that for three years. We had a pact: once he saved the startup capital, we'd build our empire and put down roots.

Startups are brutal. Once, a supplier tried to sabotage us, threatening to cut off our stock. James didn't hesitate. He stood in front of me, shielding me from the fallout.

*Layla, I will protect you.* His eyes had burned with conviction. *Once we make it, we'll never be apart again.*

He made it.

But he couldn't keep the promise.

I looked at the man in front of me and took two steps back.

"Mr. Gilbert, Scarlett Walker is *your* girlfriend, not mine." My voice stayed steady. "Can you still not protect your own people?"

The awkwardness in the room deepened into something sharper.

Scarlett sniffled. Tears welled up in her eyes on command, her face a mask of grievance. "Layla, I know James dumped you back then, and I know you're bitter! But do you have to target us like this?"

A collective gasp went through the room.

Maya glared at Scarlett. "What do you mean 'who dumped who'? That was a complicated situation. Everyone had their reasons."

I let out a soft laugh. "There's no dark secret. Just two young people who fell out. That's all."