Jealous?

Time, a cruel master, had sped by, and now it was the night of the Thompsons' reception. My brother, Sam, with his usual efficiency, had handled all the arrangements, leaving me with the sole task of preparing myself. The event was to be held at the Thompson mansion, a sprawling estate nestled in the city's most opulent district. I’d frequented the place countless times throughout my childhood; it was practically a stone's throw from our own family home. As our car glided to a halt at the mansion’s grand entrance, a swarm of paparazzi and journalists, lenses flashing like a hundred hungry eyes, converged on us. This was a familiar circus. The valet opened my door, and as Sam handed over the keys, I hooked my arm through his, stepping into the blinding cacophony. Camera flashes popped incessantly, momentarily stealing my vision, but I was long accustomed to it. Waiting for us at the threshold were Aunt Susan and Uncle Brian, our hosts. We navigated the sea of flashing lights, making our way to greet them. "Lovely evening, Uncle Brian and Aunt Susan," I murmured, offering kisses and hugs to the warm, elderly couple. "It's so lovely to see you both, especially you, Lia," Aunt Susan said, her eyes softening as she held me. "It's been a month since we last saw each other. I know you're hurting, and..." "All is well, Aunty!" I cut her off gently, pasting on my most convincing smile. "I'm doing absolutely fine. My apologies for not visiting, but my brother here has kept me incredibly busy with the company." It was a half-truth, but a necessary one. "I'm happy to hear that," she replied, her smile tinged with a hint of knowing sadness as she led us inside. The mansion buzzed with prominent figures, captains of industry, and political elites—no surprise, given the Thompson Corporation's towering influence. Across the room, I spotted Brandon. He moved with the easy confidence of a man in his element, his arm linked with Cristine's as he introduced her to the guests. He must be showing her off, a venomous thought whispered in my mind. A familiar ache resonated in my chest, a phantom pain from seeing them together. Be strong, Amelia, I commanded myself, forcing a radiant smile onto my face, preparing for the inevitable encounter. I found myself engrossed in a seemingly random conversation with Sam, desperately trying to keep my mind occupied and far away from Brandon. It was then that Lucas approached us, a polite smile gracing his lips as he greeted my brother and me. Lucas Miller, Brandon’s best friend. For some inexplicable reason, we’d never clicked. I’d always sensed a subtle aversion from him, a deliberate distance he maintained. Not that it mattered to me now. With Brandon out of the picture, I intended to avoid anyone closely associated with him like the plague. He and Sam fell into a discussion about our companies' latest collaboration. I merely listened, offering silent acknowledgments. I knew Lucas disliked me, so I kept my thoughts to myself, even though I was the one largely responsible for orchestrating this very partnership. I'd simply let Sam handle the public relations. To my surprise, Lucas turned to me, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he asked a direct question about the project. I found myself drawn into the conversation, discovering a side of him I'd never known. He was unexpectedly engaging, even friendly—perhaps because Sam was present, I thought. I caught myself smiling, even laughing, at his occasional jokes. For the first time, I actually enjoyed talking to Lucas. He was undeniably handsome, and that friendly smile made him surprisingly appealing. Our conversation was interrupted by a distinct clearing of a throat from behind. "Ahem!" We all turned. There stood Brandon and Cristine, a picture of perfect, infuriating harmony. "I'm happy that you are all enjoying yourselves," Brandon said, his gaze sweeping over us. The three men—Brandon, Sam, and Lucas—exchanged quick, brotherly hugs. Cristine then turned to me, her smile bright and genuine. "You're Amelia, right? It's a pleasure to meet you. We didn't get a chance to talk last time when you came to pi—" "I had some urgent matters to attend to, so I had to run," I interjected smoothly, forcing a polite smile. "My apologies. I am Amelia Gray. It's a pleasure to meet you." I extended my hand, expecting a handshake, but she surprised me by pulling me into a hug instead. It was awkward, stiff, and utterly discomfiting. With three pairs of male eyes on us, I managed a small, feigned tap on her back. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise in Lucas's eyes, a fleeting moment of something I couldn't quite decipher. I must have been mistaken. Soon after, the official program began, and everyone took their seats. Lucas found his place beside me at our table. Occasionally, he’d offer a smile or a small nod in my direction. This newfound friendliness was perplexing. I wondered what his angle was, what had changed. A ripple of applause swept through the room as Uncle Brian introduced Brandon to the stage. Brandon delivered a polished speech, thanking the guests and outlining the company's ambitious future plans. Before concluding, he called Cristine to join him. They stood together, radiating an aura of success and affection, a perfect pair. The sight was a dagger to my heart. That was supposed to be me. I struggled to accept the brutal reality—their love, the happy future I’d envisioned with him, all the good times we shared for ten years, all gone. I'd loved him since I was a child. I'd believed we would finally be together when he returned. Now, it was just a painful fantasy. A warm hand grazed my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn't even realized had fallen. I looked up, startled, to find Lucas beside me. His eyes, usually so guarded, held a surprising depth of pain, a shadow of hurt I couldn't comprehend. "Am I too handsome that you can't take your eyes off me?" he teased gently, his voice low, pulling me back from the brink of despair. His words snapped me back to reality. I quickly scanned my surroundings. Sam was no longer at our table, and most guests were captivated by Brandon and Cristine, who were now gracefully dancing on the stage. My fingers flew to my face, confirming the lingering dampness of tears. I wiped away the last traces and stood abruptly. "I need to go, Lucas. Please tell my brother I've already left." I turned, intent on escape, but before my first step, a strong grip encircled my right hand. "I can't believe you're a coward," Lucas's voice, devoid of its previous tenderness, cut through the noise. I watched his lips curve into a sardonic smirk. He looked undeniably sexy, dangerously appealing, when he did that. But wait, had he just called me a coward? My face hardened. I tried to pull my hand free, but his grip was unyielding. "Are you just going to run away after seeing the man you love with someone else?" he challenged, his eyes boring into mine. "This isn't the Amelia I know. Tell me, Amelia, are you just a beautiful face and nothing more?" His words ignited a furious spark within me. Who did he think he was? We weren't friends; he knew nothing about me. We'd only just had our first "normal" conversation tonight! What was he trying to prove? "What are you trying to do?" I shot back, my voice barely above a whisper, brimming with indignation. "We don't know each other, so who are you to judge me? I don't need to prove anything to you." "How about them?" He gestured subtly toward Brandon and Cristine, swaying gracefully in the center of the dance floor. "Are you just going to show them that you're someone who always flees when put in an awkward position?" He raised a single eyebrow, an undeniable challenge in his gaze. "So what do you suggest?" I demanded, suddenly intrigued despite myself. "Dance with me. Show them how beautiful you are, and make Brandon realize he made the biggest mistake of his life." "Why are you doing this?" The question was out before I could censor it. "Let's save that for next time," he said, a glint in his eye. "For now, you need to show Brandon that he wasted his chance on you." He released my wrist, then offered his hand, awaiting my decision. He was right. I should prove my worth. Taking a deep breath, I placed my hand in his, and together, we walked onto the dance floor. I felt Brandon's gaze on us immediately. His shock was palpable—he knew Lucas and I were hardly friends, despite Lucas being his best buddy. I ignored Brandon's piercing stare, focusing instead on the man before me. Lucas smiled seductively, and I found myself wondering why I'd never truly noticed him before. Probably because my entire world had revolved around Brandon. "Are you done staring?" he murmured, that alluring smirk playing on his lips again. "If I didn't know how much you adore Brandon, I'd think you were falling for me." I cleared my throat, realizing I'd been lost in his eyes for far too long. Our bodies moved in perfect sync with the music, Lucas guiding me effortlessly through the steps. My mind felt strangely light, detached from the swirling emotions, thanks to his confident lead. He was, to my surprise, an excellent dancer. "Don't flatter yourself too much, Mr. Miller," I retorted, trying to regain my composure. "I'm only acting on the job at hand. Weren't you the one who proposed it?" "Well, let me tell you something," he whispered, drawing me closer. "Brandon has been watching us since we stepped onto this dance floor. Any moment now, he'll come and ask you to dance. I want you to reject him, and choose me instead. Is that clear?" he asked, his confidence unwavering. "Alright," I agreed, a thrill of defiance coursing through me. Just then, I heard footsteps behind us and felt a light tap on Lucas's shoulder. Brandon's magnetic voice, laced with a forced politeness, addressed Lucas. "Lucas, may I ask if I can have this dance with Lia?" He spoke to Lucas, but his eyes were fixed intently on me. "Let's ask the lady if she'd be willing," Lucas replied, his gaze unwavering, subtly challenging me. My heart hammered against my ribs, so loudly I feared everyone could hear it. My hands were sweating, a fact Lucas seemed to notice, as his grip on my left hand remained firm and reassuring. Summoning every ounce of courage, I faced Brandon. I glanced briefly at Cristine, standing anxiously by the sidelines, then met Brandon's gaze directly. "Indeed, it would be a pleasure to dance with you, Mr. Thompson, but..." I intentionally drew out my words, a wicked satisfaction bubbling within me. Two can play this game, you know. "...I don't think it's a good idea, especially since your fiancée looks quite anxious and alone right now. Don't you think?" His smile faltered, freezing on his face. Shock and a hint of dissatisfaction flashed in his eyes. He quickly composed himself, offering a curt nod. "You're right, Lia. Enjoy the party then." He excused himself, turning to Cristine and leading her away from the dance floor. "I am so proud of you," Lucas beamed, trying to resume our dance. But my moment of defiance had passed. "I should go," I said, pulling my hand from his. "I think that's enough for tonight. I don't need to prove anything else to anyone." I strode off the dance floor. "Where are you planning to go?" I heard Lucas call out, surprised he’d followed. "None of your business," I retorted, continuing my determined walk, not caring to look back. "Actually, it is," he countered, catching up to me. "Especially since your brother entrusted you to me before he left." I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to face him. "Excuse me?" What was he trying to imply? "Your brother received a call earlier," Lucas explained matter-of-factly, his expression serious. "You were quite engrossed watching Brandon and Cristine on stage at the time, so you probably weren't paying attention to what Sam was saying. I offered to accompany you if he needed to leave." I hadn't heard a word Sam said earlier, nor had I realized he'd gone. But I was certainly old enough to take care of myself. "No need. I can manage on my own." I turned to leave again. I waited outside, the cool night air a welcome relief, until a harsh realization dawned on me. This was an exclusive, guarded estate. Taxis weren't permitted inside; all residents had their own cars. I wanted to kick myself for my shortsightedness. There was no way I was going back in. A sleek luxury car pulled up beside me. The window glided down, revealing Lucas's handsome, smiling face. "Hop in! I'll take you wherever you need to go." I had no other option. Opening the passenger door, I slid inside. "To your residence?" he asked. "No. Can you take me somewhere else?" I replied without much thought. All I knew was that I couldn't go home, not with my mind in such a turmoil. All I wanted was to run away from everything. A comfortable silence settled between us as he drove, heading towards an unknown destination. Brandon still occupied too much of my mind, and I hated it. I needed to move on, to truly forget him. He was happy, and I wanted—needed—to be happy for him. The car eventually stopped in front of the city's most exclusive, glittering bar. Lucas was swift, opening my door and offering his hand to help me out. "Why did you bring me here?" I asked, looking at the vibrant lights. "Because," he said, his smile enigmatic, "this is the best place to mend a broken heart."