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They’re pleased.

Everyone is pleased.

Except me.

“And I’m glad we get to form this bond,” Jake comments.

Bond?

The table fills with awkward laughter. Mostly from Jake and his parents. It’s brittle and hollow, the kind of laughter that exists purely because silence would be worse.

I dig my fork into my steak just to feel something give under pressure, and across from me, Alexander catches my eye.

He’s sitting beside Anton, posture impeccable, expression neutral. But his gaze narrows in warning.

Don’t. Don’t ruin this. Don’t make a scene.

I subtly lift my hand and send him the middle finger without breaking my expression.

Anton sees it.

His head tilts slightly, then his eyes meet mine. There’s no irritation or emotion there. Just a quiet, lethal promise.

Behave, or I will make you.

I smile sweetly at him and return to stabbing my food, because one thing about Anton? He gets serious when it comes to business, and I don’t want to risk ruining it for him.

“Oh, Davika,” Jake’s mother, Kate, chirps, her voice piercing and artificial. “I’ve been using your skincare brand for months. They’re the absolute best. Can’t you see I’m glowing?”

I glance up despite myself.

Glowing?

She looks like a wax figure left too close to a heater. My mother smiles, perfectly controlled.

“Oh, really? That’s wonderful to hear.”

Her voice is warm, but I know her. I know every version of her voice, every subtle fracture beneath the surface. There’s something false there. Something thin.

I glance at her, but she avoids my gaze.

“I know, right?” Kate says happily, like a lunatic. “Another wonderful piece of news is that Jake and Tristan have started mending their relationship.”

The words hit the table like a dropped blade.

For a second, I don’t move.

A slow, deliberate tide of anger rises in my chest, climbing my ribs and filling my throat until breathing feels optional.

I lift my head and look at her.

She’s smiling like she’s announcing an engagement. Like this is something pure or something to celebrate. The genuine happiness in her eyes makes me want to flip the entire table over.

My mother gasps softly, her fingers pressing against her collarbone.

“Oh my,” she breathes, all polished surprise. “That’s good to hear, Jake.”

“Thanks, Davika,” Jake replies smoothly. His smile is effortless and rehearsed. Then his eyes slide to mine. “Actually… we’re back together.”