Ninety-Nine Engagements, One Betrayal

Dayna POV:

The kiss was brutal. A desperate, possessive act designed to control, to silence, to prove something to everyone but me. My lips still throbbed, a phantom pain mirroring the ache in my chest. He wasn't the man I thought I married. He was a stranger, capable of a cold cruelty I hadn't imagined.

A week later, we were at a masked ball, a glitzy charity event meant to distract from the whispers surrounding the Preston family. Brooks, ever the master of appearances, was charming, composed, his hand resting lightly on my lower back. But I felt nothing but a cold hollowness.

I caught a glimpse of Everleigh across the ballroom. She was wearing a mask identical to mine, a delicate filigree of silver and lace. But it wasn't just the mask. Around her neck, glinting under the chandeliers, was the tie pin Brooks had worn that morning. My heart clenched. A silent, public declaration of ownership.

Brooks squeezed my hand, a polite reminder. "Dayna, darling, keep up."

I pulled my arm away. "I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own."

He frowned, a barely perceptible flicker of annoyance. "Are you still angry?"

Angry? My laughter was a bitter echo in my head. "Brooks," I said, my voice low and steady, "we are getting a divorce. I filed the papers this morning. The cooling-off period ends soon." I pulled a folded document from my clutch and pressed it into his hand. "Just sign it."

His eyes widened, a rare crack in his composure. He opened his mouth to speak, but at that exact moment, a collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

"Oh my God, Everleigh!" someone shrieked.

Brooks's head snapped towards the commotion. Everleigh had stumbled, her drink spilling down her gown, a dramatic cascade of embarrassment. He started to turn, his concern palpable.

"Brooks," I said, my voice sharp, pulling him back. "Sign it. Now."

He hesitated, his gaze torn between me and his distressed sister. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he snatched the pen from my hand and scrawled his signature across the dotted line. The tip of the pen, sharp and unforgiving, grazed my skin, leaving a thin red line on the back of my hand. He didn't notice. He was already gone, rushing towards Everleigh.

I watched him go, a strange sense of liberation washing over me. It was done. The paper, now legally binding, felt like a feather in my hand. I walked to a quiet corner, the festive music and laughter a distant hum.

A masked figure approached me, holding out a single red rose. It was the start of the night's "seek your soulmate" game. Everyone was supposed to find their partner in the masked crowd.

I looked up. It was Brooks. My heart, against all odds, gave a tiny flutter. Could he...?

But then, another masked figure, identical to mine, appeared beside him. Everleigh.

Brooks paused, his steps faltering. His eyes, though masked, were fixed on her.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, then died. The ballroom plunged into darkness, a collective murmur rising from the crowd. Chaos.

In the sudden blackness, I saw them. Two silhouettes, illuminated by the distant city lights filtering through the tall windows. Locked in an embrace. A kiss. There was no mistaking it. The way his head tilted, the way her body melted into his. It was Brooks and Everleigh.

"Oh, look!" a woman beside me giggled. "Mr. Preston and his wife are so in love! So romantic!"

My stomach churned. Love. That's what it looked like. Raw, undeniable, passionate. For his sister. Not for me. He had never kissed me like that. Not once. Not even on our wedding day.

I felt a ghost of a smile grace my lips. So, this was it. The grand revelation. His love for her was so palpable, so undeniable, that even in the darkness, it shone. My talkativeness, my stories, my very essence had never elicited such a response. He had accepted me. He had tolerated me. He had never loved me. He loved her.

My eyes, now adjusted to the dim light, found Everleigh's. Even through the masks, I felt the triumph in her gaze, the malicious glint. Her lips moved, a silent message. He's mine.

I laughed. A short, sharp, bitter sound. I reached up, my fingers trembling slightly, and removed my mask. The cool air against my face felt like a cleansing. I walked towards them, my steps deliberate, my gaze fixed on Brooks.

"Did you mistake me for someone else, Brooks?" I asked, my voice chillingly calm.