Cameron Hughes stiffened, his voice cold and flat. "It’s nothing."

"Nothing?" Miles Young didn't buy it for a second. "What the hell are you two playing at?"

Cameron furrowed his brow, irritation flashing across his face. "I said it’s nothing." He took a breath, his jaw tight. "Don't bring her name up around me again. If you want to associate with her, be my guest. Just don't drag me into it. As far as I'm concerned, we have no connection anymore."

Noah Carter, who had been quiet until now, couldn't sit still. "What exactly is the problem, man? This seems a bit extreme."

"Nothing," Cameron muttered, curling his lip in a self-deprecating smirk. "I just realized it’s all meaningless."

Noah and Miles exchanged a look, both holding their tongues. They knew exactly what was going on. It all traced back to Arianna Stone. Ever since she’d married Maxwell King, Cameron had been acting like a man possessed. He’d cut ties with Alexis Morgan, and it was clear to everyone that he was trying to reclaim his old life—or rather, reclaim Arianna.

Miles found the whole thing preposterous. Arianna and Maxwell were a power couple, perfectly matched in every way. Why was Cameron still living in a fantasy? He hadn’t appreciated her when he had her. Now that she’d moved on, he was suddenly playing the role of the reformed bad boy? It was pathetic.

Miles wasn't one to hold back like Noah. He leaned in, his voice cutting through the noise of the gala. "You know Alexis is into you, right?"

Cameron tilted his head back, downing a stiff drink. The burn of the alcohol seared his throat. He licked his lips, his eyes unfocused. "Yeah. Found out a few days ago."

"Found out?" Miles let out a hollow laugh. "We’ve been hanging out for years. You’re only noticing now?"

Cameron stayed silent.

Miles studied him for a moment before shaking his head. "Back when you were with Arianna, you treated her like she was a handout. You’d trash-talk her to us, constantly reminding everyone how you were basically 'doing charity' by dating her because of her family background. But tell me, when did you ever actually help her with anything?"

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, biting tone. "Now that she’s married, now that she’s finally doing well, you’re not satisfied. You want to barge in and play the martyr. I honestly can’t tell if you’re actually in love with her, Cameron, or if you just can't stand the idea of her succeeding without you. You figured she’d be nothing without you, but then she turned around and landed someone a thousand times better than you. That’s the real sting, isn't it? You’re not trying to win her back; you’re just trying to reclaim a piece of property."

Miles stood up abruptly, signaling to Noah. "Let's go. Drive me home."

Noah, still in the middle of a appetizer, looked confused. "Wait, what? We’re leaving already?"

"Stop eating," Miles snapped, his eyes cold. "The house is burning down, and you’re worried about snacks."

Cameron remained motionless. He’d known about Alexis’s feelings all along. It was written all over her face, in the small, unguarded moments she couldn't hide. Everyone else saw it; how could he not? He had just been playing dumb because it was easier. Once things were out in the open, the friendship would be over. He liked having her around as his go-to companion, and he wasn't about to lose that.

***

A few tables away, one of Alexis’s friends nudged her. "Did you and Cameron have a fight? You guys were fine a few days ago."

Alexis glanced toward the bar. Miles and Noah had already left, leaving Cameron sitting alone, nursing his drink like a hermit. She bit her lip and turned away. "No, of course not. What would we even fight about? Don't be ridiculous."

"True," the friend agreed. "You two have been close so long, you’re basically family at this point. Wait, isn't that Arianna?"

"Arianna who? She’s Mrs. King now," another girl chimed in.

"Why is April Turner there? Do they even know each other?"

"They’re not friends. April just has zero chill—she just gloms onto whoever looks the best. She's a total sucker for a pretty face."

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that... Alexis is pretty too..."

"Money really changes people," someone whispered, eyeing Arianna. "She looks completely different from the way she looked when she was struggling before. Look at the way Cameron is staring at her."

The table went silent for a beat. Alexis followed their gaze. Cameron was locked onto Arianna’s back, his expression bordering on obsessive.

"What is going on with him?" one of the girls muttered.

"You tell me," another replied. "It’s pretty obvious."

Someone whispered a dare: "Should we go over and ask her what their deal is?"

"Are you crazy? Maxwell King is right there."

"Exactly. That’s the point. It’d be a total power move."

Even though they claimed it was a bad idea, their eyes were bright with anticipation.

Lorelei White, who happened to be passing by, rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. "Can you all just stop? I had to pull serious strings to get you into this gala. This is Spencer Miller’s crowd. Do you really want to get kicked out and humiliate yourselves?"

Lorelei only really knew Alexis. She’d helped her out at a previous event when Alexis caught her before she tripped in her heels, and this invitation was basically just closing the tab on that favor. But Alexis was becoming a liability.

Alexis looked stung. "You got these invitations? You could’ve said so earlier."

Lorelei scoffed internally. Did they think she was a vending machine for gala invites? "Wasn't it you who came crying to me because you heard Cameron was going to be here?"

Alexis went quiet, forcing a weak smile as she smoothed her hair. "I don't recall."

Lorelei didn't bother arguing. She shot a look at the rest of the girls and walked away. It didn't matter. She wouldn't be seeing them again after tonight.

***

At the main table, Maxwell was whispering something to Arianna, completely ignoring the rest of the world. April, Arianna, Maxwell, and Spencer Miller sat in a line, a perfect picture of elegance.

The room was buzzing. Everyone was staring, drawn by the raw chemistry. Rumors had been circulating for months that Maxwell King, the heir to the King empire, had quietly married, but almost no one believed it. He was notoriously cold toward women, often shutting down attempts at conversation with brutal efficiency.

But seeing them together, the rumors died.

Maxwell was carefully picking food for her with his chopsticks, his movements smooth and deliberate. "Try this," he said, his voice unusually soft. "Is it good?"

Arianna took a bite, her eyes lighting up. "It’s amazing! What is this?" The skin was crispy and golden, the meat tender, with a perfect balance of sweet and tangy.

"Lychee-style pork," Maxwell replied.

Arianna looked up, confused. "Wait, this is pork? Why is it called lychee-style?"