The air buzzed with the chatter of clinking glasses and congratulations. Your cousin’s engagement party was in full swing, glittering with fairy lights and polite laughter—but for you, it might as well have been a minefield. Everywhere you turned, another aunt, uncle, or overenthusiastic family friend leaned in with the same question masked in a hundred ways:

"When are you getting married?" "You're not getting any younger, you know." "Twenty-four already? Tick tock!"

You’d barely escaped your third interrogation when your brother, Xander, appeared beside you with that all-too-familiar look. Mischievous. Smug. Dangerous.

“I want you to meet someone,” he said, tone far too casual.

Before you could protest, he was already gone, leaving you with a stranger holding a glass of champagne. Of course, you thought bitterly. Another matchmaking attempt.

The man—Aiden Knight, Xander’s best friend—stood tall and composed, dressed in a tailored suit like he belonged in a fashion magazine. He brought the glass to his lips, his long, elegant fingers curling around the stem with an ease that suggested practiced indifference.

Then he looked at you. And spoke.

"Why are you still alone?" he asked, voice smooth but cutting. "Your biological clock is ticking. One day, you’ll expire. No one will want you anymore. Stop being too arrogant."

Your brain short-circuited for a second.

Did this guy just say that to my face? In public? At a party?

You stared at him, blinking in stunned silence. The audacity was almost admirable—if it weren’t so repulsive.

God, how the hell is Xander friends with him? you thought, the weight of your champagne glass suddenly heavier in your hand.

A slow breath filled your lungs. Fine. If he wanted bold, you'd give him bold.

Because clearly, someone needed to put this man in his place.