My sister hurled red wine across my dress uniform and told me I had no place in that ballroom, my father told security to get me out before I humiliated his future son-in-law, and I watched the stain slide over my ribbons, checked the countdown on my watch, and said, “You’re right. I don’t,” because in less than a minute the entire room was going to understand why I had really come.

May 7, 2026 by taha

that the predator in the room wasn’t the billionaire patriarch or the tech-mogul fiancé. It was the woman bleeding red wine in silence.

At two seconds left, I finally lifted my chin.

“Your contract was terminated five minutes ago, Preston,” I said softly.

Before he could even process the words, the heavy oak double doors at the far end of the ballroom continue reading …