Leo reached for me, face tight. “Jade…”
I slapped his hand away.
“Don’t.”
And then I ran.
Chapter Twenty-Six
LEO
It was supposedto be a damn fairytale.
And for five seconds, it almost was. Jade looked like something out of a dream—elegant in that soft green gown, her hair pinned half-up, soft tendrils brushing her cheek. When she walked into the Vanderbilt mansion beside Tristan, heads turned. Phones snapped. Even Vivian, the British royal import clinging to my arm like we were auditioning for Buckingham Palace, paused to blink at her.
Because Jade didn’t look like a scholarship girl tonight.
She looked like a queen.
And then they called her one.
I froze the second her name hit the mic. Jade Bryan—Homecoming Queen. Me—King. The crowd went dead quiet for one beat. Two.
Then the whispers started. The jeers. The girls clutching their champagne flutes with too-tight fingers. The jocks muttering, “She rigged it.”
Only she didn’t.
Xavier’s voice rang through my head—“I had youand Shani voted in. I used a few back-end tricks. Figured she deserved at least one night to feel on top.”
And she did. For one second. One fragile, perfect second, Jade smiled like she believed it. Like the crown meant more than a joke.
Then the spotlight hit us, and I reached for her hand, heart pounding. She looked up at me—eyes wide, disbelieving, like she couldn’t decide if this was the start of a dream or a new kind of nightmare.
It ended up being both.
Because the moment our fingers laced and we stepped into the center of the ballroom, something fell from the vaulted ceiling with a wet, sickening splash.
Cold. Slimy. Muti-colored.
Glue and lemonade. Food dye. Who knows what else.
Jade screamed, a high, gutted sound that cracked me open.
Phones flew up. Lights flashed. Laughter rang out like gunshots.
She blinked through the mess—crown slipping, mascara running, dress ruined—and I watched the moment her heart snapped. And then she ran.
And I lost it.
Everyone’s phones buzzed. All at once.
Ping. Ping. Ping. Over and over like a swarm.
Whispers turned into gasps. Heads bent. Fingers tapped.
A voice behind me gasped. “Whoa…”
I yanked my phone out and the screen lit up like a nuclear bomb.
