Chapter 2
Somewhere behind me, glass shattered, but I didn’t look back.
The spring night air hit me like a blessing, crisp and freeing.
My phone buzzed nonstop—Mom’s texts, all caps: “How dare you embarrass the family?” “Apologize to Julian NOW.”
Because of the engagement, I’d applied to university in L.A.
For three years, my world had revolved entirely around Julian—every decision, every moment, funneled through the lens of when we get married.
My parents called it a great honor, a “once-in-a-lifetime opportunity” for our family to climb social ranks.
But the reality of those years—
how small he made me feel,
how much of myself I’d buried just to keep the peace—
that was a burden I carried alone.
Bree’s call cut through the noise, her voice shrill with rage.
“Clara, what on earth does Julian want to do? Does he even remember he has a fiancée?”
“Did you see? He’s throwing a yacht party at Victoria Harbour tomorrow for that girl’s birthday! Fireworks, private concert—all paid for with your trust fund money, probably.”
I cut her off.
“Wanna hit The Vault? Your favorite club.”
“Clara… are you sure?”
Bree hesitated, knowing how many rules I’d broken just by suggesting it.
“Tonight, we’re getting wasted.”
Bree let out a hiccup, gesturing broadly at the row of male models in front of her.
“Clara , pick anyone you want—big sister’s treating tonight.”
I rested my chin in my hand, studying the men earnestly.
Meh, they’re lacking something.
I waved them off disinterestedly.
“Swap them out. Not impressed.”
“Clara, what kind of godlike being are you even after?” Bree pouted.
“I’ll bet the hottest male escorts in L.A are all right here!”
“I want that…”
The Vault’s neon lights blurred, Bree already waving over a server for tequila shots.
My eyes landed on the VIP staircase—specifically, the man descending it.
Tall, broad shoulders, tailored suit that clung to a body built for sin.
His smirk was all sharp edges, like he knew exactly the effect he had on every pair of eyes in the room.
Bree whistled. “Holy shit, he’s a god. Think he’s a model?”
He paused at the bottom of the stairs, eyes meeting mine like he’d felt the weight of my stare. When I approached, drunk but steady, he raised an eyebrow, amused.
“Name?” I asked.
The man quirked an eyebrow, eyeing me with faint amusement before finally speaking.
“Evan.” His voice was low, rough around the edges—a welcome contrast to Julian’s smooth lies.
The few people who had been standing behind Evan silently stepped back one by one.
I held out my hand, the diamond on my ring finger catching the light.
Evan’s gaze dropped to it, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Engaged?”
Without a word, I twisted the ring off and tossed it into a nearby trash can.
“Not anymore.”
His laugh was a rumble, warm and dangerous.
He took my hand, his thumb brushing the ghost of the ring’s indentation.
“Ms. Ward, where shall we go tonight?”
Where to?
I wandered outward aimlessly, my mind flooded with the messages my parents had sent earlier.
“Clara , who gave you permission to bring up the engagement cancellation? How can you be so unreasonable!”
“Go apologize to Julian right now, do you hear me?”
“The nanny said you haven’t returned to the apartment yet. A girl’s reputation is ruined if she stays out all night!”
“If you dare do something disgraceful and shame the Ward family, your father and I will never forgive you!”
I suddenly let out a bitter laugh, turning to Evan beside me.
“To a hotel. Dare you?”
While Evan was in the shower, Bree sent me a flood of photos and voice messages.
“Honey, I’ve dug up everything—he just started working here tonight,” her voice trilled through the speaker.
“Spotless record, too. I checked every single line of his medical reports myself. No risks whatsoever.”
“Baby, enjoy tonight! You’re turning twenty-two soon, and you’ve only kissed once? So pitiful!”
“Trust my experience—he’s gonna make you feel amazing tonight!”
The moment Evan stepped out of the bathroom, Bree’s last message was blaring.
I fumbled to shut off, my ears burning with shame.
Leaning against the doorframe, Evan wore a playful smirk. “Ms. Ward… how do you want to ‘feel amazing’ tonight?”
My fingers trembled as I clutched my phone, but I forced a calm tone.
“That’s your job. Why ask me?”
Evan tossed the damp towel aside and approached.
He leaned in, hands braced on the armrests of my single sofa, so close I nearly brushed against his chest.
Before I could lean back, he lifted me into his arms:
“Then enjoy tonight, Ms. Ward. I’ll make sure to fulfill my duties… to your satisfaction.”
