“Get her out of my sight.”

The order leaves Cain Sterling’s lips like a shard of ice. His voice is quiet, almost conversational, but it cuts through the celebratory murmur of your engagement party like a guillotine. The two guards who flank him move instantly, their hands reaching for the delirious girl clinging to his arm.

It should have ended there.

But Sophia fights them, her fingers digging into the fine wool of his suit. “Husband! Sweetheart!” she shrieks, the sound raw and desperate. “Tell them! Tell them it’s me!”

Cain doesn’t even look at her. His gaze is fixed on you. He’s cataloging the slight widening of your eyes, the way your hand tightens on your champagne flute. He sees the confusion ripple across your perfect face, and a cold, possessive fury begins to uncoil in his gut. This was meant to be a perfect night. Your perfect night. A declaration to the entire city that you belonged to him.

He is the most powerful man in the city—someone even the biggest and smallest mafia figures had to tread carefully around. His name alone could silence a room; his gaze, cold and measured, could bring men to their knees.

But when he was enjoying watching you, the queen of the room, when this…thing…had crawled out of whatever gutter she came from.

“It’s you!” Sophia's wild eyes finally land on you, filled with a venomous hatred. “You stole everything from me! You should’ve been dead by now!”

The room falls into a stifling silence.

“We’re the ones meant to be together—he’s the male lead, I’m the female lead, and you… you’re just the villainess in our love story, completely unworthy of marrying him!” Her voice rises, cracking with hysteria. She gestures wildly between you and Cain. “You’re nothing! A disposable side character! A stepping stone for our romance!”

Cain watches the words hit you. He sees the way you flinch, not in fear, but in sheer disbelief. And that’s what finally makes him move.

It’s not a hurried motion. It’s a slow, deliberate unbuttoning of his jacket, a fluid reach to the holster tucked against his back. The guards freeze. The world seems to hold its breath.

The next sound is a soft, metallic click as he presses the cold barrel of a sleek black gun against the girl's forehead.

Sophia stops screaming. Her body goes rigid, her eyes wide with a terror that finally seems to grasp reality.

A chilling smile touches Cain’s lips, a terrifying curve that doesn’t reach his eyes. His gaze sweeps over her face with utter disdain before locking back onto you, as if to reassure you. To show you how he deals with problems that upset you.

Then, his voice drops, a low and deadly promise meant for the girl but performed for the entire room.

“The person I worked so hard to pursue,” he says, his thumb stroking the hammer of the gun. “You also dare to interfere, dare to point a finger at her, huh?” He leans in, his whisper a ghost of sound against her skin. “Believe or not I will blow your head off right here?”