Chapter 4

His gaze swept the room,

silently demanding to know who had dared invite me. I noticed Emily

shrink back, avoiding his stare.

Camila glided over with a smile that never

reached her eyes. "You must be Sable Crawford. I''m Camila Ross. I''m sure

Darrell''s mentioned me."

*Actually, he barely has.* "Nice to meet you."

"Has

anyone ever told you we look alike? Camila''s laugh tinkled like broken "

glass. "It''s quite striking, really."

Darrell''s jaw clenched. Our

resemblance was his dirty little secret.

Oh my god! Camila''s gaze dropped

to our feet. "We''re wearing the same shoes! These are the Louboutin

limited edition, aren''t they? There are only two pairs in the world."

The

room held its breath.

I looked directly at Darrell, then back at Camila

with innocent eyes. "How coincidental. Though I don''t really see the

resemblance between us – I''m prettier."

Someone gasped. Darrell looked

like he wanted to disappear.

That''s when Lisa Morrison decided to strike.

Those have to be knockoffs. Her voice cut through the silence like a

blade. "Sable''s just a small-town doctor. There''s no way she can afford

real Louboutins. Each pair costs thirty thousand dollars."

Exactly,

Jennifer chimed in. "That''s more than she makes in a year. The fakes these

days are so convincing though."

Every eye in the room fixed on me. Even

Darrell looked uncomfortable, his expression clearly doubtful.

"Look at

that confidence, Ryan laughed. ""An orphan with no family background "

trying to compete with beta bloodlines. Pathetic."

"Fake designer goods to

match her fake identity, Lisa added with vicious glee. ""And she thinks "

she can be our Luna? Delusional."

Camila put on her most concerned

expression. "Sable, you don''t need to buy counterfeits to fit in. Darrell

isn''t the type to care about material things anyway."

The implication hung

heavy – *unlike you, shallow gold-digger.*

Darrell stepped closer, his

voice low and harsh. "What the hell are you trying to prove? We''ll discuss

this at home."

Do you think they''re fake too? I asked him directly.

He

said nothing. His silence was answer enough.

Emily tried to intervene.

Maybe we should just—

I should change my shoes? I interrupted, looking

straight at Darrell.

That would be best, he muttered. "Everyone''s

watching. This is embarrassing."

Camila moved closer with false sympathy.

"Really, Sable, you should change them. Fake leather will give you

blisters, and I''d hate for you to be uncomfortable."

"Fake? You seem

awfully certain about that. My voice stayed level. ""What makes you so "

sure only someone like you deserves the real thing?"

I didn''t mean—

"What

did you mean then? First you ''worry'' about my feet, then insist they''re

counterfeit. You just want everyone to know yours are real and mine are

fake, right?"

Darrell immediately jumped to her defense. "Enough, Sable!

Camila was trying to help. Why are you being so hostile?"

Camila waved her

hand graciously. "It''s fine, Relly. Don''t get upset. She''s probably just

having a bad day."

*Relly.* The pet name hit like a physical blow. They had

inside jokes, shared history, intimate nicknames.

Someone suggested

drinking games to break the tension. Camila laughed and joined in

immediately, the perfect party guest.

I retreated to a corner with a glass

of wine. Darrell followed.

If you don''t have money, don''t buy fakes, he

hissed. "You embarrassed me tonight."

"After three years together, don''t

you know what kind of person I am?"

I pulled the receipt from my purse.

"Moonridge Luxury Boutique. Purchased today at 3 PM. Thirty thousand

dollars. Here''s my bank statement."

His expression shifted instantly,

embarrassment replacing anger. "Where did you get thirty thousand dollars?

You''re just a doctor. And Why didn''t you show this earlier?"

"Didn''t feel

like it."

He opened his mouth to press further, but someone called out,

Come on, we''re starting a new round!

The interruption gave me the perfect

excuse to walk away without answering his questions.

I''m sorry, he

mumbled after a pause. "I was wrong to doubt you."

I walked away without

responding and joined the drinking game. But when I looked up after my

turn, I found Darrell staring at Camila with raw longing as Marcus and

Thomas pressured her to drink more. His expression held worry and

something deeper – genuine love.

When she reached for her fourth drink, he

shot up and snatched the glass away.

You''re on your period, he snapped.

You can''t drink this much. Do you want to make yourself sick?

*Oh, what a

shame. Guess they couldn''t fuck last night after all.*

The room went dead

quiet. Camila''s cheeks flushed pink. "Why do you care?"

"She''s done

drinking. His Alpha authority rolled through the room like thunder. "

Anyone who pushes her will answer to me.

The threat hung in the air. No

one dared challenge him.

I watched with bitter amusement as Camila reached

for the glass playfully. He held it high above his head, and she lost her

balance, tumbling into his chest. His free arm wrapped around her waist

automatically.

Careful, he murmured, voice soft with shared memories.

After all these years, your balance still sucks.

She giggled, lightly

punching his chest. "You''re so mean, Darrell."

The room erupted in laughter

and whistles. Their chemistry was undeniable, electric.

Just as Darrell

opened his mouth to respond, his eyes accidentally met mine across the

room.

The look I gave him could have frozen hell itself.

Darrell''s eyes

snapped to mine across the room, and the blood drained from his face.

He

jerked his arm away from Camila so abruptly she stumbled sideways. Two

quick steps backward put distance between them, but the damage was done.

Everyone had seen how naturally he''d held her.

The whispers started

immediately. I watched him navigate through the crowd, his jaw tight with

embarrassment. When he reached me, he dropped into the chair beside mine

with forced casualness.

Hey. He touched my knee. "Having fun?"

I took a

sip of wine. "It''s been educational."

His fingers drummed against his thigh

– a nervous tell I''d learned to recognize. He kept glancing around the

room like he expected someone to call him out.

You seem tense, I

observed.

Just... pack politics, you know? He forced a laugh. "Always

complicated when old friends visit."

*Old friends.* "Right."

Darrell studied

my face with the intensity of someone trying to solve a puzzle. I could

practically see the gears turning as he searched for the reaction he

expected – tears, accusations, jealousy.

So... He leaned closer. "You

have anything you want to say about tonight?"

The question carried an edge

of challenge. He was testing me, probing for the emotional breakdown he

knew how to handle.

I smiled. "No. Why would I?"

Really? His eyes

narrowed. "Nothing at all?"