After My Boyfriend Burned Me for a Livestream, I Became the Chapman Heiress

Julien tilted his head back and laughed at something Pierce said. The sound was loud and loose. He was on his third scotch. Maybe his fourth. He swirled the glass and the amber liquid caught the light from the chandelier overhead.

Then he stood up.

The movement was sudden enough that the circle of socialites went quiet. Julien grinned and spread his arms wide like a ringmaster.

"Alright, alright," he said. "You all know the drill. Every gala needs a little entertainment."

Pierce Sterling leaned forward on the couch, his white dinner jacket unbuttoned. "Oh, here we go."

"What are we doing?" one of the women asked. She wore a silver dress and held a champagne flute in one hand.

Julien's grin widened. "A dare. We need a volunteer."

The group exchanged glances. A few of them smiled. One guy chuckled nervously. This wasn't new. Julien loved these games. He'd done them before at other parties. The kind of stunts that trust-fund kids thought were hilarious and everyone else called hazing.

Julien's eyes swept over the circle. Then they landed on Cassidy.

She was still holding her phone up, livestreaming. Her smile faltered. Just for a second. Her fingers tightened around the phone.

"Cassidy," Julien said, his voice casual. "You're new here, right?"

Cassidy's laugh was high and strained. "Me? Oh, come on, Julien—"

"Yeah, you," Pierce said, sitting up straighter. "Fresh blood."

The others murmured in agreement. Cassidy's face went pale under her makeup. She glanced at Kylian. He was standing just behind her, his champagne glass halfway to his mouth. He froze.

Then he moved.

Kylian turned fast, his eyes scanning the room. They landed on me. I was ten feet away, reaching for an empty glass on a side table.

He crossed the distance in three strides, grabbed my arm, and yanked me toward the circle.

"Use her," Kylian said. His voice was loud. Confident. He shoved me forward, his hand firm on my shoulder. "She's my girlfriend. She can handle anything."

I stumbled. My hip hit the edge of a glass table. The tray I'd been holding slipped from my hands and clattered to the floor. Soapy water splashed across my legs.

The circle went silent.

I stood there, dripping. The chandelier light was directly overhead now, bright and hot. I could feel it on my face. On my soaked uniform. I looked up at Kylian.

He was smiling.

Cassidy exhaled. The sound was loud in the quiet. She swung her phone toward me, the camera lens catching the light. Her voice went bright again, back to that high, breathy tone.

"Oh my God, you guys," she said into the camera. "This is Kylian's girlfriend. She's so cute. Look at her — she's a janitor here. Isn't that adorable?"

The circle erupted in laughter.

I didn't move. My hands hung at my sides. Water dripped from my vest onto the marble floor. I looked at Kylian again. Waiting.

For him to stop this. To pull me back. To say he was joking.

He raised his champagne glass to his lips and took a slow sip. Then he grinned at the crowd.

In my pocket, my phone ticked silently. 02:44:09.

Julien clapped his hands together. "Perfect. Alright, here's the game."

He gestured to Pierce, who stood and walked toward the service door at the back of the VIP section. He disappeared through it. The socialites leaned forward on their couches, murmuring to each other. One of them laughed. Cassidy kept her phone trained on me, narrating to her followers.

"This is going to be so funny," she said. "Stay tuned, guys."

Pierce came back a moment later. He was carrying a bucket. It was gray plastic, the kind used in the resort's fish market. Even from where I stood, I could smell it. Brine. Salt. Something rotten underneath.

Julien pointed at the bucket. "First dare," he said. "Ice-cold fish-market brine. Poured over the contestant's head. Live on camera."

The socialites cheered. Cassidy zoomed in on my face. I could see the red dot on her screen, the little notification that told her hundreds of people were watching.

Pierce hoisted the bucket with both hands, lifting it high like a trophy. The liquid inside sloshed. It was murky and gray. Chunks of something floated on the surface.

The circle of socialites tightened. They formed a ring around me. Cassidy moved closer, her phone steady in her hand.

Kylian stood at the edge of the circle, arms crossed. He looked relaxed. Amused. He raised his voice so the whole group could hear.

"Go ahead," he said. "She won't cry."

I looked at him one more time.

Then I closed my eyes.

Just for one second.

I thought about the timer. About the three years I'd spent scrubbing floors and emptying trash cans and keeping my mouth shut. I thought about the heirloom cedarwood I'd prepared for Kylian. The gift that could have saved his family. The gift he would never see now.

I opened my eyes.

I stood perfectly still.

Pierce lifted the bucket higher. Cassidy's camera zoomed in. The socialites leaned forward.

And Pierce upended the bucket.

The brine hit me like a wall. Ice-cold. It crashed over my head, into my eyes, down my neck. It soaked through my hair, my uniform, my skin. The smell was overwhelming. Fish guts and salt and something rotting. It filled my nose, my mouth. I tasted it on my tongue.

The liquid pooled at my feet. Chunks of something slid down my shoulders and hit the marble floor with wet slaps.

The circle erupted in laughter. Loud. Uncontrollable. Someone clapped. Cassidy shrieked into her phone.

"Oh my God, you guys, did you see that? Did you see her face?"

I stood there, dripping. My eyes burned. My chest was tight. I didn't move.

Kylian was laughing too. His head thrown back, his champagne glass raised in a toast.

In my pocket, the timer ticked.

02:43:44.