BORN TO RUIN LUCIAN KINGSTON

ELIZABETH.

I was in a beautiful dress. It was a pale, shimmering gold, the color of a celebration I no longer felt a part of.

As I stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, the scent of expensive lilies and heavy perfume made my stomach turn.

This was my engagement party.

I was Elizabeth Alen, the woman who was supposed to be the happiest person in the room. But as I scanned the crowd, I couldn’t even bring myself to pretend.

"You look pale, Liz," a voice whispered in my ear.

I turned to see my sister, Selene. She looked stunning in red, her smile wide and bright.

She reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear with a gesture that looked loving to everyone else. To me, her fingers felt too cold.

"I’m just tired," I said, trying to step back. "Where is Lucien?"

"Over there," Selene pointed toward the bar. "He’s been a bit moody tonight, hasn't he? Don't worry. I’ll go get you a drink to calm your nerves."

She disappeared into the crowd before I could say no.

I looked toward the bar. Lucien was standing with a group of businessmen, his back to me. Usually, the moment I entered a room, his eyes found mine. Tonight, he didn't even turn around. He looked rigid, his shoulders set in a stiff line.

A group of women nearby stopped talking the moment I walked past. They huddled closer, their eyes darting toward me before they began whispering again.

I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

"Elizabeth."

I turned. Lucien was finally standing in front of me. He didn't reach for my hand. He didn't kiss my cheek. His blue eyes, which used to remind me of a clear summer sky, were now as cold as a frozen lake.

"Lucien, what’s wrong?" I asked, my voice trembling. "You haven’t spoken to me all evening."

"Is there something you want to tell me?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

Before he could answer, Selene appeared by my side. She handed me a flute of champagne.

"Here, Liz. Drink up. It’s a big night."

I took a sip automatically. The liquid was cool, but it had a faint aftertaste. I didn't think much of it. I was too focused on the man I loved, who was looking at me like I was a stranger.

"Lucien, you’re scaring me," I whispered.

Suddenly, the music stopped and the giant screen behind the stage, which had been showing a slideshow of our childhood photos, flickered and new image appeared.

It wasn't me as a child. It was a photo of me or someone who looked exactly like me in a hotel room, wrapped in the arms of a man who wasn't Lucien. Then came the messages. Page after page of leaked texts, filled with vulgar words and plans to meet in secret.

The gasps from the guests sounded too loud.

"This isn't real,"