That single word caught Phoenix off guard. A flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes, but she said nothing. She simply turned to the bartender and ordered, “One iced lemon tea.”

  Clarissa sipped her drink slowly, the citrus cooled her lips. She glanced up—and there it was again. Phoenix’s gaze, locked onto her with quiet intensity.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked softly, eyes narrowing.

  Phoenix swirled her whiskey, the black gem on her ring glinting beneath the lights as she took a slow sip. “You’ve changed.”

  Clarissa’s fingers paused on her glass. Her face remained composed. “After everything… who wouldn’t?”

  Phoenix nodded slowly, eyes never leaving her. “True.” She set her glass down. “Clarissa… Dorian and Lyra are coming tonight.” She said it carefully, watching for a reaction.

  Clarissa blinked, her voice calm. “Oh. That so?”

  Phoenix stared. “Just oh?”

  “What else should I say?” Clarissa’s brows lifted in genuine confusion.

  Their eyes held for a long moment. And for once, the usual mischief in Phoenix’s gaze faded. What replaced it was something deeper—solemn, sincere.

  “I’m glad,” Phoenix said, voice low. “That you’ve finally let go of him. Dorian was never your match, Clarissa. You deserve something more. Someone more.”

  She had always said that, even in the past—again and again.

  “I don’t feel anything for Dorian anymore,” Clarissa said. And this time, she meant it.

  Phoenix smiled faintly, but there was an edge to it. “Let’s hope that’s true. I’d rather not have you throwing punches at me.”

  Clarissa frowned, just about to ask what she meant—when a ripple of cheers and catcalls spread through the room.

  “Dorian! Took you long enough to show up!”

  “I’ve been too busy loving my fiancée,” Dorian replied with a smug smirk as he stepped inside.

  The crowd broke into laughter, and someone added, “Only Mr. Phoenix can get him to show his face these days!”

  Phoenix stayed still, lazily sipping her whiskey, but her posture sharpened just slightly as she glanced over her shoulder.

  Clarissa didn’t turn right away. She didn’t need to. Lyra entered on Dorian’s arm, her eyes immediately scanning the room. And when they landed on Clarissa—her steps faltered.

  Clarissa sat beside a striking man—tall, elegant, commanding. The red dress Clarissa wore hugged her in all the right places, the fabric clinging to her curves with deliberate seduction. This wasn’t the angelic white from before. Red. Bold. Untouchable.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Lyra felt her throat go dry. Was it just her imagination, or had Clarissa become… stunning? Not just beautiful—transformed. Confident. Radiant. Untamed.

  Her heart clenched. She tilted her head slightly, hoping to catch Dorian’s reaction—And caught him staring too.

  Her fingers tensed, curling tighter around Dorian’s arm. “Dorian,” she whispered, “Who’s that man next to my sister? They seem… really close.”

  Dorian scoffed. “That? That’s no man. That’s Phoenix—the tomboy freak. Still playing dress-up.”

  Lyra’s eyes widened. “She’s… a woman?”

  Before Dorian could reply, a voice rang out across the room. “Dorian,” Phoenix drawled, her lips curling with amusement, “long time no see. Aren’t you going to introduce your new fiancée to everyone?” Her tone was playful, but her eyes were ice.

  Dorian’s expression didn’t change—cool and unreadable. He slid an arm around Lyra’s slim waist, his voice low and comforting. “Don’t worry. I’m right here.”

  Lyra, who had been visibly tense, leaned into him at that. Feeling his steady grip gave her a fragile sense of security. She exhaled slowly, then mustered a polite smile as she began to greet the people around them.

  The crowd tonight was full of the city’s elites—socialites, heirs, heiresses, and industry power players. And while everyone had brought someone dazzling on their arm, it was Clarissa who stole the spotlight.

  The woman seated beside Phoenix in that curve-hugging red dress… she didn’t need a dramatic entrance. She was the moment.

  Lyra, by comparison, looked delicate—pretty in the kind of way that faded from memory the second you looked away.

  Some of the onlookers exchanged knowing glances. So this is what Dorian traded for? Must’ve gotten tired of fine dining—decided to try out street food for a change.

  But all eyes were on Clarissa. On how she would react. Would she crack? Would she cry? Would she throw a drink?

  None of it happened.

  Clarissa didn’t spare Dorian a glance. She sat poised and unbothered, her head tilted toward Phoenix, laughing softly, fingertips brushing her whiskey glass.

  The tension, it turned out, wasn’t between Clarissa and Dorian—it was between Dorian and Phoenix.

  Their eyes locked over their drinks, and a spark passed between them. Dangerous. Electric.

  Phoenix shifted, her arm slipping around Clarissa’s shoulders like it had always belonged there. Her voice laced with mock sweetness.

  “Dorian,” she purred, “long time no see. You’re not going to introduce us to your date?”

  She'd expected… something more from Dorian. A siren, a temptress. But instead? Just a girl with soft features and shy smiles.

  Lyra stepped forward, nerves barely masked by her rehearsed sweetness. “Hi. I’m Lyra.”

  Phoenix returned her smile. “Phoenix,” she said. “Pleasure.”

  “Let’s play something! Cards, anyone?”

  Phoenix leaned toward Clarissa with a half-smile. “You’re with me tonight, right? Dorian’s already got a new teammate.”

  Clarissa nodded, her smile calm. “Sure.”

  Phoenix narrowed her eyes slightly and, without asking, grabbed Clarissa’s hand.“Come on,” she said. “Let’s find our table.”

  Her grip was firm, possessive. Clarissa didn’t resist, though her mind wandered—Phoenix had always been this way with her.

  Even when they were kids. The toys, the sweets, the limited-edition gadgets Phoenix brought back from the Wraith estate—Clarissa gave them all to Dorian. Back then, Dorian barely acknowledged them. Barely acknowledged her.

  Dorian couldn’t stop losing. His luck was so bad, even the bystanders started to feel awkward.

  Phoenix caught the shift in energy and gave a subtle nod. One of the guests immediately jumped in to ease the mood.

  “This is getting repetitive. Let’s switch it up. Dorian—how about a game of billiards? It’s been forever.”

  “Yeah,” someone else agreed, “You’re still the best at that, right?”

  Phoenix stood up quickly, grinning. “Let’s play. Dorian—come on, I’ve missed our games.”

  Dorian’s eyes were sharp now. Cold. “Sure,” he said.

  Phoenix didn’t wait. She grabbed Clarissa’s hand again and walked right past him, deliberately close.

  “You’re my lucky charm tonight,” she murmured with a smirk. “No wonder Dorian used to win so much. Guess it was all you.”

  Clarissa rolled her eyes. “Stop it. You’re just on a roll.”

  Dorian watched them go, jaw tight.The old Clarissa would’ve been staring at him all night, clinging to his gaze like it was oxygen.

  Tonight? She hadn’t looked at him once. Since the moment he walked in with Lyra on his arm, she’d treated them both like ghosts. His fingers curled into a fist at his side.