Winn noticed the slight tremor in Ivy’s hands as she adjusted the hem of her gown. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, studying her face as if he could read every thought behind her calm mask. "Do you want me to send everyone away? We can do this privately, if that’ll help."
"No! No, I’m fine," Ivy said too quickly, forcing a bright smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Just nerves." Her fingers brushed against the engagement ring at her wrist.
"You look incredible, Ivy," Winn murmured. He reached out, tracing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the rough pad of his thumb grazing her jaw. "This feels sort of unreal." His gaze softened.
"Winn, are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, searching his expression for hesitation, some sign that he, too, felt the absurdity of what they were about to do.
"You’re the best decision I’ve made in years, sweetie," he said, kissing her forehead gently.
"Okay then," he said finally, drawing back and offering his arm. "Shall we?"
She slipped her arm through his, the heat of his body seeping through her skin. The courtyard waited. Ivy forced herself to breathe.
Meanwhile, Trish was already tearing through the courtyard. When she spotted Ben, she nearly tripped. He looked irritatingly handsome in a navy suit—smug, poised, and utterly unaware of the chaos his presence had just triggered.
Ben was standing beside Sharona, having a conversation with Sylvia. Trish quickened her pace and tugged discreetly on Ben’s sleeve.
Ben turned, confusion flickering across his face before recognition dawned. "Trish? What are you—"
She immediately pressed a finger to her lips, eyes wide. "Shhh!" she hissed under her breath.
Trish rolled her eyes, lowering her voice to a sharp whisper. "You’re about to ruin everything. Come with me—now."
Ben glanced between Sharona and Sylvia, curiosity piqued. "Fine," he sighed.
Trish dragged him by the wrist toward the side garden.
They ducked behind a line of statues, where the sounds of laughter and music were softer. Trish finally stopped.
"What are you doing here?!" Trish demanded. Her pulse was still racing from the sprint, and she could practically feel the anxiety crawling up her neck.
"I can ask you the same thing," he said.
"Why are you here?" Trish asked again. "Don’t play dumb, Ben. You showing up here isn’t a coincidence."
"I came with a date," he said. His grin widened when her eyes narrowed. "I’m surprised myself, honestly. Met her at Commissioned bar last week—beautiful woman, great legs, expensive taste. Flirted with me for about five minutes before she said she needed a date for some fancy party. Can you believe it?" He chuckled.
"Guess I still have that magic touch."
"It’s Beyonce’s engagement party," she said.
Ben’s jaw went slack. "What? Beyoncé Beyoncé?"
"How many Beyonce’s do you know?" Trish said tightly. "Don’t answer that!"
He let out a disbelieving laugh. "Well, I’ll be damned. No wonder she stopped dancing. She hooked a rich guy, huh?"
Trish pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yes. And you, genius, are being used to sabotage it."
"I don’t know yet," she snapped. "But your date is involved, and she’s up to something slimy. So just—pretend you don’t know Beyonce. Don’t look at her, don’t wave, don’t even sneeze in her direction. Understood?"
He folded his arms, looking far too entertained for her liking. "And what’s in it for me?"
Trish rolled her eyes. "I’ll flash you my boobs on Friday."
"Great. Now go," she said, shoving him lightly in the chest.
"Pleasure doing business with you, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning close enough that his breath brushed her cheek. God, this was one of the times she was grateful he made men pigs half the time.
"Get lost, Casanova."
He winked and disappeared around the corner.
Trish let out a long, shuddering sigh, pressing a hand to her chest. "Well, crisis averted," she muttered. Somewhere inside, Ivy was playing the perfect fiancée, and Trish silently prayed it would stay that way. Thıs content belongs to 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚫𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚫𝕟𝕖𝕥
"Thank you," a voice said from behind her.
Trish froze. Her stomach dropped.
Turning slowly, she found Sylvia stepping out from behind one of the hedges.
"What?" Trish blinked, feigning confusion. Her lips parted in mock surprise, but her heart was beating fast enough to make her chest visibly rise and fall. She tried to play it off, eyes darting anywhere but Sylvia’s. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Sylvia’s gaze was knowing. "I heard you just now," she said softly. "So, thank you... for fixing it."
Trish’s façade faltered. Her jaw slackened just enough for surprise to show. "You knew this was going to happen?" she demanded, the disbelief cracking through her usual tone. "Like, you knew someone was going to pull that stunt and you said nothing?"
Sylvia’s gaze softened, her posture slumping slightly. "Not really," she admitted. "It’s... complicated."
"Complicated?" Trish repeated incredulously, throwing her hands up. "You could’ve said something, warned them! Do you not want Ivy marrying your brother?" Trish pressed, unable to stop herself. "Why stay quiet about something that could ruin their engagement?"
"Of course, I want them together," Sylvia said. "I just..." she exhaled. "I can’t explain it. Being a Kane isn’t easy. Sometimes, silence feels safer than trying to fix things you can’t control."
Trish stared at her in irritation.
Sylvia gave a faint, wistful smile. "I’m glad she has you in her corner," she said finally, looking at Trish with genuine warmth. "Life here is hard. You seem like a good friend and she may need you."
Trish decided to let it go. She was merely a guest and Sylvia was right, she didn’t understand what it meant to be a part of their world. People like her and Ivy more often than not get crushed. "I try," she said, shrugging with false nonchalance. "Now come on. Let’s go watch the happy couple make their grand entrance."
Sylvia chuckled softly and fell into step beside her. The hum of laughter and music drifted toward them as they neared the courtyard.