Chapter 1

At my birthday gala, I wanted to invite my fiancé Julian to open the first dance. Instead, I overheard him talking to his best friend.

"You obviously want to ride Sarah's family name to the top. So why have you humiliated her at her own birthday party five years running? Watching those socialites mock her as a lovesick fool—doesn't that bother you at all?"

"It does." Julian swirled his whiskey on the rocks. "But what can I do? I lost a bet to Cynthia."

"I promised to let Sarah be embarrassed at her birthday gala six years in a row. Besides, Sarah's a Claire—even if she loses face, no one would dare laugh to hers. Tonight marks the end of year six. Next year, I'm proposing to her at her party. I swear it."

With that, he loosened the tie I'd hand-embroidered for him, ran his fingers over the hidden monogram, and smiled.

"This tie—I'll give it to Peter as a little welcome gift later."

His friend froze. "Peter? Isn't that Cynthia's dog?"

"If I don't knock Sarah down a peg now and then, Cynthia starts feeling inferior." Julian's voice dripped with indulgence.

Standing outside the door, I had no interest in hearing another word. I turned and walked away.

When Grandpa entrusted me with executive control of the consortium, he'd given me one warning:

"As the head of the Claire family, you are permitted no more than five acts of foolishness for love in your entire lifetime."

Since in this sixth year, the tie I'd stayed up all night embroidering was only good enough to serve as a leash for his childhood sweetheart's dog—

This wedding was off.

…

Ten minutes later, my twenty-fourth birthday gala commenced at the Hampton beachfront estate.

A jazz band played as I stood at the top of the double helix staircase, a Chanel gown sculpting my waist.

Julian sat at the head table. Beside him was Cynthia in a red dress.

A golden retriever circled excitedly at their feet.

"Peter, come here." Julian snapped his fingers.

The golden bounded over, tail wagging furiously.

Under the gaze of every notable in the room, Julian removed the tie from his neck.

He looped it around the golden retriever's collar and knotted it.

Nearly everyone at the gala recognized that tie. It was the token I'd presented to him at our engagement party—the family crest woven into its hidden pattern, stitched by my own hand.

"How handsome," Cynthia cooed, pressing her body against Julian's side. "Sarah wouldn't have agreed to give the tie to Peter, would she?"

"She won't mind." Julian withdrew his hand from petting Peter.

When he looked up, his gaze cut through the champagne tower and the crowd, landing precisely on me.

Before—when I didn't know the truth—I would have stormed over and confronted Cynthia on the spot.

And Julian would have publicly berated me for behaving beneath a lady of my station, and it would have ended with my apology.

Now that I knew the truth, I couldn't even summon a flicker of anger.

I looked at that tie, drew a deep breath, gathered my skirt, and descended.

My heels struck the floor with sharp, clear clicks.

The crowd parted to either side, opening a path for me.

I walked straight to Julian.

Cynthia flinched, shrinking behind him.

Julian frowned, stepped forward, and shielded Cynthia with his body.

"Sarah, as the hostess of this party, you should show some grace." He spoke first—a warning.

I didn't look at him. My gaze settled calmly on the golden retriever.

"Nice color on the tie. Matches the dog's coat beautifully." My voice was perfectly level.

Julian's smile froze.

Cynthia's practiced grin solidified in an instant.

"What did you just say?" Julian's voice dropped low.

"I said they're a good match." I casually plucked a champagne flute from a servant's silver tray, raised it slightly toward him. "Since you're into that sort of thing, consider the tie my gift to him. A proper introduction present."

I turned and walked toward the dance floor.

Behind me, Julian shot to his feet. His high-backed chair scraped against the floor with a piercing shriek.

"Sarah, stop!"

I didn't break stride. For Julian's sake, I had already exhausted every ounce of Grandpa's patience.

The token of our engagement—he'd given it away to a dog with his own hands.

Six years of betrothal. It ended here.