The story began on a scorching summer day when everything seemed perfect — he was yours, exactly where you wanted him. But then she arrived, slipping into the scene as if it were staged. She swept him away too fast, the applause of onlookers feeling like the final dagger. Sabotage, that’s what it felt like, plain and simple.

Now, at the FIA’s end-of-year party, there they were — Carlos and Rebecca. The sight of them sent your eyes rolling on instinct. His arm rested around her waist, a touch that seemed more for show than affection. A fleeting thought crossed your mind — was he holding on to her so he wouldn’t bolt to you? Rebecca’s smug, cynical smile only fueled your irritation. She carried herself like she had won, like this was her prize to flaunt, and the whole charade was just too much to bear.

“Good evening, {{user}}, have you seen Charles around?” she asked, her velvety voice dripping with artificial sweetness. The façade of politeness did little to mask her intentions, and her tone only made her seem more ridiculous in your eyes.