It was New Year’s Day, a time that should have been marked by warmth, laughter, and the gathering of kin.

Instead, the dining hall was suffocating. After the internal purge of the household hierarchy that morning, the guests kept their eyes fixed on their plates, maintaining a fragile, performative peace.

Leland Alexander sat at the head of the table, watching his family circle—each member harboring their own hidden agenda. A bitter, hollow ache spread through his chest; the food in his mouth felt like dry cardboard. He looked back on a lifetime of ruthless ambition and cold-blooded victories, only to realize he had traded away the possibility of a peaceful twilight. The warmth of a family circle was a luxury he would never know.

Evangeline Montgomery noticed her grandfather’s gaze go blank, his spirit deflated, his posture radiating a profound, lonely grief. She nudged Marcellus Alexander’s arm, gesturing toward the old man.

Marcellus patted her hand and gave a slight shake of his head. It wasn’t that he lacked the will to comfort him; it was that some wounds were beyond repair. The human heart was the most volatile variable in the world.

When the meal finally concluded—a stifling affair that left everyone with a collective case of indigestion—they dispersed without a word, retreating to their rooms to escape the performative pleasantries.

Evangeline watched Leland’s hunched back as he walked away, a stinging sensation in her chest. "Grandpa looks so broken."

"This high-society lifestyle everyone covets? It’s just a meat grinder that doesn't even bother to spit out the bones," Marcellus murmured, leaning back against the sofa with a flicker of practiced indifference.

Evangeline didn't want to linger on the darkness. She brushed the gloom aside, brightening her voice. "Marcellus, let's go watch the fireworks by the river tonight. What do you think?"

"Anything you want, sweetheart. I’ll follow you anywhere." He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes softening instantly.

While the Alexander estate was a tomb, Remi Crawford’s home was a zoo. She hadn't been back in a year, and her parents were using her minor professional successes to justify hosting a lavish party for every distant relative and family friend. She was trapped, surrounded by a swarm of "promising" young bachelors, forced to plaster on a professional smile until her jaw locked.

She snapped a photo of her miserable, trapped expression—punctuated by the sea of suits in the background—and sent it to Evangeline. It was followed by a gif of someone laying face-down in defeat. Evangeline could practically hear her soul crying out through the screen.

Remi stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the chat with Damian Spencer. She typed, deleted, typed again, and finally let her pride win out, locking the phone.

"Fine," she muttered to herself, grit in her teeth. "Just grit your teeth for two more days, and you're back in the city."

"Remi, what are you doing hiding here? There are so many people you haven't even met yet!" Her mother’s voice rang out from behind her.

Remi made a face and turned around, voice flat. "Mom, I have a boyfriend."

"Oh, stop it. I’ve picked out men who are all impeccably raised and successful. You just haven’t given them a chance to show you what you're missing."

"My boyfriend is better than all of them combined. Please, stop worrying about it."

Her mother scoffed. "If he’s so 'excellent,' why isn't he here? Either you're lying, or the boy is a total loser."

"Ugh!" Remi groaned internally. She regretted opening her mouth in the first place.

Her mother didn't let her linger, hauling a pouting Remi back into the ballroom to return to her role as the mechanical socialite.

Under the night sky, the city lights shimmered, casting brilliant, flowing colors across the river. Evangeline and Marcellus stood on the bridge, watching the urban sprawl. The cold wind seemed to sweep away the heaviness of the day.

The crowds were dense, mostly young couples shivering together, chasing the fleeting romance of the fireworks display. Evangeline tilted her face up, beaming. "Wow! Look how lively it is!"

Marcellus kept his eyes on her, pulling her puffer jacket tighter around her frame. "Are you cold?"

"Not at all. Let's squeeze toward the center; the view is better there." She laced her fingers through his and tugged him into the throng.

Marcellus had always despised crowds; the proximity of strangers usually triggered his fight-or-flight response. But tonight, it felt different. The roar of the crowd faded into a dull hum, and all he could see was her radiant, vivacious smile. As long as she was there, he would stand anywhere.

They were a striking pair, their presence standing out even in the thick of the crowd. Damian Spencer, who had been wandering around in aimless boredom, spotted them instantly.

"Marcellus!"

Evangeline scanned the crowd, baffled. "Marcellus, I think someone called your name."

"I didn't hear anything."

"Oh. I must have imagined it."

They finally reached the prime viewing spot. At exactly eight o'clock, the fireworks shattered the sky. Rockets screamed toward the heavens, exploding into neon blooms that drifted down like falling stars, promising hope for the year ahead. The crowd went silent, mesmerized.

As Evangeline stared in awe, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

"Dr. Spencer?"

Marcellus didn't hesitate; he swatted the hand off their shoulders with brutal efficiency. "Why are you acting like a lost tail?"

"It’s a coincidence! Why are you so hostile?"

Marcellus didn't care for the excuse. "We're on a date. Go play somewhere else!"

"I won't! I'm bored."

"Bored? Didn't Remi call you?"

Damian looked at Evangeline, his face falling. "No. The little traitor hasn't sent me a single text since she got home."

"Oh... uh, is that so?"

"Is something wrong?" Damian narrowed his eyes, catching her awkward hesitation.

Evangeline thought better of it. If Remi hadn't reached out, it wasn't her place to interfere. She gave him a practiced, neutral smile. "Nothing at all."

"No. Definitely something is up." Damian glowered, trying to read her face, but she had locked her expression down perfectly. "Whatever. I’ll ask her myself." He turned and shoved his way out of the crowd.

Evangeline sighed in frustration. "I think I just caused Remi a massive headache."

"Or maybe you just gave them the push they needed," Marcellus said, pulling her into his arms to shield her from the wind.

Damian cleared the crowd, jumped into his car, and hammered out a call. The phone rang until it was almost hung up.

"Remi?"

"I’m just resting," the woman’s voice drifted through the phone, sounding utterly exhausted.

A jolt of unease surged through Damian. "You sound dead on your feet."

Remi didn't know how to respond. She couldn't very well admit she’d been stuck in a marathon blind-dating session all day. "I'm not tired. Just... sleepy."

"Remi, don't lie to me, okay?"

The vulnerability in his voice hit her hard. She was a pushover for emotional honesty. After a beat, she gave in, choosing a watered-down version of the truth. "My mom threw a party. I'm exhausted from the social work."

"Blind dating?"

He didn't need to hear her answer; he knew exactly what kind of gathering required that kind of defensive posture. Remi’s heart skipped a beat, her pulse racing. "I told her I had a boyfriend, but she didn't believe me."

Silence hung over the line. Remi felt her composure fraying. "Why don't... why don't you come over?"

Damian felt a surge of rage, but he didn't want to say anything he couldn't take back. He cut the call instantly.

Remi stared at her phone, stunned. "Did he hang up on me?" She groaned, burying her face in her pillow. "God, he’s angry. I really shouldn't have put him through this."

She barely slept. The next morning, she walked downstairs with dark circles under her eyes. Her mother took one look at her and frowned. "You didn't sleep well?"

"Mom, I’m leaving today." She had spent the whole night debating; she needed to go and apologize.

"It’s only the second day of the New Year! Why are you rushing off? I’ve got even more young men coming over today."

Remi clutched her forehead. "Please, stop! I told you I have a boyfriend. This is unethical!"

"Then call him here for lunch. Let us see him." Her mother was determined to break her daughter’s resolve, convinced the boyfriend was a fabrication.

"I..."

Before Remi could finish, a housekeeper walked in. "Madam, there’s a gentleman outside claiming to be the young lady's boyfriend."

"What?"

Remi bolted upright, her jaw dropping. Damian? No way.

She scrambled to the front door, and there he was, standing on the porch with a faint, dangerous smile. She ran to him, burying her face in his chest, her voice muffled. "I thought you were ignoring me."

Damian stroked her hair, his touch lingering. "You’re the one ignoring me."

Her parents emerged from the house, staring in frozen shock at the sight of the two of them. He was actually real?

Her mother cleared her throat, signaling their presence. Remi pulled back, face flushing red as she turned to her parents. "Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Damian Spencer."

"Nice to meet you," Damian said, his poise impeccable.

Her mother scanned him—well-groomed, refined, and clearly from a good background. She gave a satisfied nod. "Nice to meet you. Come inside."

Remi led him to the sofa, sitting next to him and staring at him with a dopey grin. Her father couldn't take it anymore. "Remi, for heaven's sake, have some self-respect."

She straightened up instantly, bracing herself for the interrogation.

"So, Damian," her mother began, "how old are you? Where are you from? What do you do for a living? What about your family?"

"Mom! You're treating him like a criminal," Remi protested.

Damian just patted her hand, answering every question with effortless, calm precision. Her mother was impressed. No wonder Remi insisted he was better than the other guys; he had an air of distinction that they simply lacked.

"Since you’re both in the capital, why didn't you come home with her?"

Damian cast a mournful, wounded glance at Remi. "I worried that I didn't meet your standards, so I didn't want to intrude. But when I heard she was going on blind dates, I just couldn't stay away. I hope this wasn't too sudden."

Her mother glared at Remi, then beamed at Damian. "Not at all, not at all. We’re delighted you're here."

"Exactly," her father chimed in. "Make yourself at home."

"Actually," Damian said softly, "I’m starving."

Her mother’s heart melted. "Oh, you poor thing! Come, let’s eat. We haven't started yet!"

Remi watched in awe as Damian sat at the table and devoured three times his usual portion. Whether he was actually starving or just playing the part, it worked—her parents were completely won over.

"Mom, Dad, Damian’s tired. I’m going to take him upstairs to rest."

"Go, go," her mother waved them off with a smile.

Once they were in her room—a simple, clean, no-nonsense space—Damian slammed the door and pulled her into his arms. He couldn't articulate the chaos in his chest; knowing she’d been on dates had sent him into a spiral of rage and gut-wrenching panic.

"Damian, I’m sorry," she whispered.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I shouldn't have been indecisive. I shouldn't have pushed you away and then expected you to show up. I never meant to toy with you."

Damian cupped her face, his gaze searching. "People change their minds, Remi. I’m not angry about that. I’m angry that you went on dates behind my back. Do you have any idea what that did to me?"

"It wasn't on purpose! I thought it was just a family dinner..." She nuzzled into his chest.

Damian sighed, a sound of pure resignation. "Promise me there won't be a next time."

"I promise. I swear!" She reached up and pecked his lips.

Damian leaned into her ear, his voice dropping to a low, husky register. "Not enough. You’re going to have to find a better way to compensate for my broken heart."

He tightened his grip, deepening the kiss. It was slow, lingering, and heavy with unspoken needs. When they finally broke apart, he looked at her with a raw, hungry intensity. He fought the urge to continue, forcing himself to steady his erratic breathing.

"Remi," he murmured against her skin, "let's save the real compensation for when we get back to our place."

The implication was clear. Remi flushed to the roots of her hair, turning away in a panic. Damian laughed, circling her from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Remi," he whispered, "this is our first New Year together."

"And from now on," she murmured, leaning back into him, "every year, it’ll be you and me."