The moment Keigh stepped onto that stage with her, hand gently guiding her forward, Fiona felt electricity under her skin. It didn't matter that his expression was unreadable. It didn't matter that he kept a careful, polite distance. In her mind, it still meant something, it had to because if it didn't, then everything she had built in her head would collapse.
When the final applause died and the guests began to float toward the lounge, Fiona excused herself, ignoring the confused calls from her friends. She walked briskly to the powder room, shut the door, and pressed both palms against the marble counter. Her chest heaved.
Her reflection stared back, the perfect makeup she spent an hour on still flawless, yet her eyes looked wild. Why did he look like that when he talked to Nara? she thought. Why did he look gentle? She had seen it, barely, for a heartbeat but she knew softness when she saw it. Keigh had never looked at her that way. Her jaw clenched.
She had watched him walk Nara out earlier, the way his hand hovered protectively behind her back. The way he slowed his steps for her. The way he leaned down, like he was saying something private, something only meant for Nara.
"Mom," she whispered to nobody, voice trembling, "he's slipping away."
---
By the time she reached her family's private lounge, her father and mother were already seated, mid-conversation. They both looked up, instantly reading her spiraling mood.
Her mother frowned.
"Fiona, sweetheart, what is it? You look shaken."
Fiona didn't sit. She paced.
"He was with her. Again. Her, mother." She didn't have to say who, both parents already knew who she meant. "He walked out with her. He talked to her like....like they're close. Like they share something only meant for them."
Her father's face hardened.
"This is what we warned you about," he said quietly. "You let your emotions get involved without securing the arrangement."
Fiona spun toward him, frustrated tears burning her eyes.
"Father, I've done everything. I've been patient. I've tried to be perfect. I've been proper. He still doesn't look at me, he just… tolerates me."
Her mother stood and walked to her, cupping her face with dangerous tenderness.
"Then we simply have to remove the distraction," she said. "Men are simple, darling. He cannot see clearly while that woman is in the picture."
Her father folded his arms behind his back, posture sharp like a sword waiting to strike.
"I've already spoken with Keigh's parents," he said. "The marriage arrangement is still on the table. They understand the benefits. But if Keigh refuses, we may need to… pressure him."
Fiona's breath stuttered.
"What kind of pressure?"
"The kind that protects our family's interests," her father replied with a cold smile. "And ensures he sees you as his only choice."
Her heart pounded, fear, excitement, obsession curling into one dangerous thread.
Her mother leaned in, voice silky.
"If that girl is the obstacle… then we remove the obstacle."
Fiona swallowed hard.
A part of her knew this was wrong. A part of her knew Keigh's gentle eyes when looking at Nara meant something real, something she could never mimic.
But the larger part, the part that had always been fed entitlement and expectation, whispered louder, i deserve him.
"Fine," she said softly, fingers tightening into fists. "Tell me what to do."
Her father smirked.
"Good girl."
And just like that, the Alarics' quiet plotting began, because Fiona Alaric would rather burn everything down than lose Keigh Dynamite to a woman like Nara.