Chapter 1

Thalia Winters froze outside the private room at a high-end restaurant in Manhattan when she overheard voices discussing her boyfriend, Drake Ashcroft. She'd come to pick him up from his regular Thursday night drinks with friends.

"Drake, now that Sienna's back from Paris, what's your plan with Thalia?"

Drake's voice carried that practiced Wall Street neutrality. "What do you mean?"

"Come on, man. You and Thalia have been together for three years. Sienna's transfer back to the New York office changes things, doesn't it?"

Through the gap in the door, Thalia watched Drake take a slow drag from his vape. In the dim light, he exhaled before speaking quietly: "I honestly don't know. The last thing I want is to hurt Thalia, but Sienna... that's complicated."

His friend let out a low whistle. "Sienna was your college sweetheart. That relationship was epic—everyone at Yale still talks about it. No one's judging you for not being over her."

"Look," another voice cut in, "Thalia's been ride-or-die for three years, and she's gorgeous. You're telling me you're still hung up on Sienna?"

Drake rubbed his temples, his voice carrying the weight of too many late nights at the office. "Yes, Thalia's stunning. But when I first asked her out... it was because she reminded me of Sienna. These past years, I've been chasing Sienna's ghost."

"So Thalia's been your placeholder?" A heavy pause. "That's messed up, bro."

"When are you planning to end it?" someone asked.

Drake tapped his vape against the table, watching the light pulse. "Not sure. Thalia's... she gets me. She understands the crazy hours, never complains. Letting that go isn't easy."

One friend gripped Drake's shoulder. "You can't have your cake and eat it too, man. Time to man up and make a call."

"Or just keep both," someone laughed. "If you feel bad, buy her something nice. Girls love that stuff."

Drake scoffed. "Not all of us can juggle multiple dating apps like you, jackass."

Outside, Thalia's lips curved into a bitter smile as she turned and walked out, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

She walked along the High Line, New York's lights twinkling around her as she reflected on her three years with Drake. She'd thought what they had was real. Now she knew—she'd just been cosplaying his perfect ex.

Standing at an observation deck overlooking the city, Thalia faced a choice: continue down this path or finally accept her family's wishes. A tear slid down her cheek as the autumn wind whipped her hair.

She made her decision.

Taking out her phone, she FaceTimed a number she'd been avoiding.

"Papa? About the arrangement with the Blackwood family in London... I'll do it."

The city lights cast their glow across the skyline that never sleeps. Standing beneath them, Thalia stared into the endless Manhattan night, her voice steady. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just done with the dating scene. Time to be practical."

"You were right all along. I shouldn't have fought you on this and run off to New York. I get it now."

"I'll head back to London once I've tied up loose ends here."

When Thalia finally returned to their penthouse, it was past ten. Rosa, their housekeeper, met her with a concerned look and a covered dish.

"Miss Winters, welcome back. I kept the bone broth warm for Mr. Ashcroft. His stomach's been acting up again. I was about to take it up, but since you're here..."

Thalia took the pot without a word and headed to the master suite. The room was empty, though Drake's laptop glowed on his desk. The shower ran behind the closed bathroom door.

Showering this early?

She set down the broth.

A stream of WhatsApp notifications lit up his laptop screen. She glanced over, catching Sienna's name.

[Drake, landed at JFK! Having dinner with the Paris team, but free after 11:30. Drinks at our old spot? ?]

Sent ten minutes ago.

So that's why he was rushing to shower—probably heading to their old college hangout spot.

[These years in Paris... I've missed you every day. Focusing on my career was the biggest mistake. Should've never let you go.]

[We were both so stubborn back then. But you still think about us too, right?]

[Tried dating other guys in Paris, but something was always off. Finally admitted to myself it's because they weren't you.]

[Been putting off this transfer to NYC for ages. Scared you'd hate me, wouldn't want to see me, maybe had someone serious... scared you'd moved on.]

[I messed up back then, Drake. Any chance you can forgive me? ?]

Thalia stood motionless, feeling her chest tighten.

She was about to close the chat when Drake's reply popped up.

[Just need to know one thing, Si: do you still feel it?]

Connected on his laptop but still texting from the shower. Classic Drake.

Thalia's heart clenched.

Drake was perpetually "in meetings" when she texted. She'd learned to stop trying, to be the "cool girlfriend" who didn't need constant communication.

But for Sienna, he'd reply mid-shower.

The difference between love and convenience couldn't be clearer.

Sienna's response was instant.

[Always have, always will. Only you ♥️]

[See you soon ?]

Just like that, three years became a placeholder.

Thalia closed WhatsApp, reset the mouse, erased her presence.

In the kitchen, she poured herself a bowl of the broth she'd perfected for Drake's stress-induced gastritis. Premium bones simmered for eight hours with fresh vegetables and herbs, finished with gut-healing ingredients. It had taken months to get the recipe right after consulting with his doctor.

It was time-consuming and expensive, but he'd once mentioned it helped, so she'd made it religiously for two years.

As she finished her bowl, Drake came downstairs.

Fresh from the shower, hair styled, wearing a dark blazer she'd given him for Christmas.

"Where were you earlier? Didn't see you when I got back."

"Just needed some air," Thalia replied softly.

Drake grabbed his keys. "Got to handle something at the office. Don't wait up."

Thalia stared into her empty bowl. "Will you be back tonight?"

Drake paused at the elevator, silent for a moment before answering, "Might crash at the office if this deal runs late."

"Got it." The girl who never made waves.

Thalia was always the understanding one.

Drake stepped into the elevator without looking back.

Upstairs, Thalia opened the master suite door. The broth sat untouched by his laptop.

Her phone lit up with a message from Asher Blackwood, her arranged match in London.

Asher: [When should we expect you back in London, Lia?]

To Thalia, Asher was more like a protective older brother. His nickname for her felt familial, not romantic.

[Once I've handled things here.]

Asher: [Need any help sorting it out?]

[Thanks, Ash. I've got this.]

Asher: [Take care of yourself. Get some sleep.]

That night, Drake's side of the bed stayed empty.

The next morning, Thalia's phone jolted her awake.

"Hello?"

"Thalia! You're coming to my birthday thing tomorrow night, right? The reservation is at eight!"

Thalia squinted at her screen through sleepy eyes.

Celine Rothschild, a friend from Drake's investment banking days who'd always been genuinely kind to her.

"Wouldn't miss it. Text me the details?"

After hanging up, Thalia headed downtown to find Celine's gift.

A delicate necklace—exactly Celine's style.

The next evening, Thalia arrived at the restaurant early.

"Happy birthday, C," she said, presenting her gift.

Celine thanked her warmly.

Mid-conversation, Drake strolled in fashionably late, an unfamiliar woman on his arm.

Their eyes met, and Drake stiffened. "Thalia? What are you doing here?"

#

Chapter 2

Drake instinctively shrugged off the woman's hand from his arm. She stiffened at his reaction.

"Celine and I are friends too. Is it so strange that I'm at her birthday party?" Thalia's smile didn't reach her eyes.

"No, I just thought you didn't like these kinds of events, so I didn't mention it," Drake said.

Thalia laughed inwardly. Was that really the reason? Or did he deliberately keep quiet so he could bring someone else?

Drake's eyes swept the room coldly, as if demanding to know who had invited her.

Celine avoided his gaze, pretending she had nothing to do with it.

"Hi, you must be Thalia. I'm Sienna. Drake must have mentioned me?" The woman who arrived with Drake stepped forward.

So this was Sienna—Drake's first love, his perfect memory.

The pain in Thalia's chest was sharp and immediate. Three years of love couldn't be erased in an instant, no matter how much she wished it could.

But her mask was perfect. "Ah, Sienna. I've heard so much about you," Thalia replied with a practiced smile.

Sienna studied her with a knowing look. "Has anyone ever told you we look alike?"

Drake's expression darkened instantly.

Thalia caught his reaction with bitter amusement. She turned back to meet Sienna's slightly challenging gaze.

"Really?" Thalia blinked innocently. "I don't see it. I'm prettier."

The onlookers froze. This wasn't the sweet, accommodating Thalia they knew. Where did this fire come from?

Sensing the tension, Celine quickly intervened. "Come on, everyone, let's sit down."

Sienna forced a smile and handed Celine her gift. "Happy birthday, C."

Celine's eyes widened as she opened it—the box was identical to Thalia's gift.

"Oh wow, I've wanted this necklace forever! Thank you, Sienna!"

Thalia's stomach dropped. The same necklace she'd chosen?

Celine opened Thalia's gift next. "Oh my god, Thalia got me the same one!"

"Must be a replica," someone muttered from the back. "That necklace costs over five grand. Even at a mid-tier firm, it's a bit much for a junior associate."

The room fell silent. Judging eyes turned to Thalia.

The irony wasn't lost on her. Despite making a respectable $165,000 at her firm—a salary that would be enviable in most circles—in Drake's world of private equity and old money, she might as well have been counting pennies. To them, she was just another junior lawyer at a commercial firm, not one of the elite M&A attorneys pulling in half a million at White & Case or Skadden.

Drake's face darkened. "Thalia, if you needed money for a gift, you could have asked me. You didn't have to—"

Buy a fake. The unspoken accusation hung in the air.

"You think I bought a counterfeit too, Drake?" Thalia's voice was ice.

His silence was answer enough.

"Come on, guys," Celine attempted to smooth things over, "Thalia wouldn't do that." But even her eyes held a hint of doubt.

Thalia's heart sank. She'd spent over five thousand dollars on that necklace out of genuine gratitude for Celine's past kindness.

Three years ago, when Thalia had fled to New York to escape her family's marriage arrangements, she'd been cut off financially. Without using any family connections, she'd worked her way up from her first-year associate salary at a respected midsize firm. While it was a comfortable living by any reasonable standard, to Drake's social circle of hedge fund managers and venture capitalists, it might as well have been minimum wage.

While most of Drake's world had looked down on her, Celine had been different—or so Thalia had thought. She'd defended Thalia, included her in conversations. Apparently, that kindness had been skin-deep.

How ironic. The moment she'd agreed to the arranged marriage, her father had restored her access to the family accounts. Five thousand dollars was pocket change now.

"I'll take the necklace back," Drake said tersely. "I'll get you something else, Celine. I apologize for this... misunderstanding."

Celine hesitated, caught between preserving Drake's pride and avoiding offense.

"Give it to him if you want," Thalia said coldly, arms crossed.

As Celine reluctantly handed over the box, Sienna chimed in with false sympathy: "Drake, don't be angry. She meant well."

Drake remained silent, his face dark.

Someone suggested playing drinking games to break the tension. Sienna joined them with a bright smile.

Thalia retreated to a corner sofa, not interested in their games. Drake followed, sitting beside her.

She ignored him, focusing on her phone.

Finally, he spoke: "You could have gotten something cheaper instead of a fake."

"If you're so sure it's fake, give it back."

"You're embarrassing me, you know that?"

Thalia took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"How exactly am I embarrassing you? The receipt is in the box. Should we call the store to verify it?"

Drake paused, then checked the receipt. His expression softened slightly. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Wasn't worth the effort," Thalia muttered, returning to her phone.

Eventually, Drake offered a quiet apology.

Thalia pretended not to hear, but she noticed his attention constantly drifting to the group playing drinking games—or more specifically, to Sienna.

When Sienna lost a round and was pressured to drink, Drake managed to restrain himself. But by her fourth drink, he suddenly stood and strode over, snatching the glass from her hand.

"Your stomach can't handle this much alcohol. Are you trying to make yourself sick?"

The room fell silent at his obvious anger.

Sienna looked up at him defiantly. "Why do you care?"

"No more drinking," he commanded, glaring at the group. "Anyone tries to make her drink more, they deal with me."

The others quickly looked away.

From her corner, Thalia watched the scene with a bitter smile.

Sienna stood to grab her drink back. Drake held it out of reach.

She lost her balance trying to get it, falling against his chest.

Drake caught her instinctively, his arm wrapping around her waist. "Still so clumsy after all these years?"

Sienna looked up at him, cheeks flushed from alcohol, her voice playful. "You're still so annoying, Drake."

The group started teasing them.

Drake was about to respond when he caught Thalia's ice-cold stare across the room.

Chapter 3

Drake seemed to suddenly remember his girlfriend was still there. Like waking from a trance, he dropped his hand from Sienna's waist and stepped back.

His friends, following his gaze to Thalia, scrambled to smooth things over.

"Let's keep playing. Sienna, skip the drinks if your stomach's bad—just do truth or dare instead."

"Yeah, truth or dare's perfect!"

Drake composed himself and returned to the sofa.

He expected Thalia to be jealous, to show some sign of hurt.

But she said nothing.

Her indifference unsettled him more than any reaction could have. Something about her felt different tonight.

The silence stretched between them.

Drake was considering an explanation when another round of cheers erupted from the group.

"Sienna lost again! Truth or dare?"

His attention snapped back to Sienna.

"Dare," she said, throwing Drake a loaded glance over her shoulder.

"Alright, pick from the dare cards." Someone produced a stack of cards.

Sienna drew one casually. The reader's eyes went wide, darting between Sienna, Drake, and Thalia.

A girl peeked at the card and gasped.

"What is it?"

"What'd she get?"

"Kiss any guy in the room of your choice," the reader announced, shooting Drake a nervous glance.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees as Drake's expression turned glacial.

Sienna, apparently oblivious to the tension, stood up with a playful smile and approached a handsome man nearby.

"Chase, mind if I kiss you?"

Chase glanced at Drake's murderous expression, frozen in place.

When he didn't respond, Sienna leaned in, arms sliding around his neck.

"Enough!"

Drake's shout cut through the room. He stormed over, grabbed Sienna's hand, and pulled her out the door.

The remaining guests exchanged looks before turning sympathetic eyes to Thalia.

She took a sip of her drink, smiling easily. "Why are you all looking at me?"

They quickly looked away, pretending to be absorbed in their drinks and conversations.

Thalia nursed her drink, feeling her heart grow colder.

In her experience, Drake rarely showed strong emotions about anything.

This was the first time she'd seen him lose control like this.

When her glass was empty, she headed to the restroom.

Through the door, she heard women talking by the sinks.

"Drake's lost it—leaving his girlfriend here to run off with Sienna."

"Shows who he really cares about, doesn't it?"

"Did you see his face when Sienna was about to kiss Chase? Terrifying."

"Poor girlfriend, watching her man lose it over another woman."

"She's just a replacement anyway."

"They'll break up soon, obviously. Everyone can see Drake's in love with Sienna."

"Yeah, I—" The voice cut off abruptly as Thalia emerged from the stall. The women hurried out, avoiding eye contact.

Thalia calmly washed her hands.

They were right about one thing—she and Drake were headed for a breakup.

But it wouldn't be him ending things. She was done.

Back at the penthouse, exhausted, Thalia fell asleep quickly after her shower.

Drake returned the next afternoon.

He pushed open the bedroom door and frowned at the open suitcase on the floor.

"What's this?"

Thalia looked up from behind the closet door. "Oh, you're back. I'm heading home for a while."

She had accumulated a lot over two years. Some clothes and shoes could be donated, but she needed to sort everything. When she left, she wouldn't leave a trace of herself behind.

Her eyes caught on the fresh mark on his neck. She looked away, unfazed.

She was done caring about what—or who—he did.

"Why the sudden trip home? Still angry about last night? Running away?"

"No, just missing my family. Want to visit."

Drake's expression relaxed. "That's good."

In three years, Thalia had never gone home.

She'd spent every holiday alone.

He couldn't leave his family to spend holidays with her, and he certainly couldn't bring her home for holidays.

His mother, Caroline Ashcroft, would never accept someone without the right background.

"I'm swamped with work, so I can't come with you. When's your flight? I'll have James drive you to the airport."

Thalia folded her favorite pieces carefully into the suitcase.

"No need. I've got a ride."

Drake tried to hide his relief.

He'd dreaded her asking him to meet her parents.

After three years, normal couples would be discussing marriage.

But he wasn't normal. He was Drake Ashcroft, sole heir to Ashcroft Capital.

Their social divide was an unbridgeable gap.

Drake knew they had no future.

Meeting parents would be pointless.

He was grateful Thalia understood this, never pushing for more.

His friend's words echoed: "Keep both. If you feel guilty, just buy her nice things. Women are easy to please."

Maybe he could marry Sienna, keep Thalia as his mistress.

A woman like Thalia would never find another man of his status.

She loved him too much to leave.

He'd talk to her after she returned.

"Text me when you land," Drake said. "Let me know when you're back in New York—I'll pick you up."

Thalia murmured a soft "okay."

I won't be back, she thought.

Drake's phone rang.

After a brief call, he turned to her: "I need to go. About last night—I shouldn't have left you there. I got you something. My assistant will drop it off."

Thalia gave a noncommittal response.

As soon as Drake left, Thalia's phone lit up with a message from Asher.