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She let out a small, theatrical gasp, trying to pull away.
"Jude, we can't," she whispered, loud enough for those nearby to hear.
"Your engagement to my sister... it was arranged by your grandfather himself."
"You're the one I love," he declared, lacing their fingers together more tightly.
"I won't marry anyone else."
He looked up at Grandpa Orson, who sat enthroned on the main dais, his face a granite mask.
"Grandfather, I've always loved Seraphina. She is the only woman I will have as my wife."
The air crackled with whispers.
Everyone here knew Jude and I had grown up together, that I was Grandpa Orson's handpicked choice for his grandson.
But now, in front of everyone who mattered in our circle, Jude was publicly tearing my dignity to shreds.
His tone was absolute.
"Sloane and I may have grown up together, but I've only ever seen her as a sister. Nothing more."
He continued, his voice hardening,
"Seraphina and I are in love. We've been together for some time. In my heart, my wife can only be her. No other woman will do."
I saw Jude's parents flinch, their eyes darting nervously toward the old man on the dais.
Jude wrapped an arm around Seraphina's waist and finally looked at me, his eyes glinting with a strange sort of triumph.
"Sloane, you have to know I never saw you that way. Surely you don't want to be chained to a man who doesn't love you for the rest of your life?"
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Besides, Seraphina and I are already together. You wouldn't use my grandfather's affection for you to stand between us, would you?"
I held their gaze for a moment before turning to Grandpa Orson and offering a slight, respectful bow.
"Grandpa Orson, if they truly love each other, who am I to stand in their way? Please, let them be happy."
I raised my glass.
"To my sister and Mr. Mantel. May you have a long and happy life together."
A flicker of annoyance crossed Jude's face at my composed response. Seraphina, however, played her part perfectly, clutching his arm with a worried expression.
"Jude, darling, your engagement was your grandfather's wish. What if he's angry?"
Jude patted her hand, his voice softening into a gentle murmur.
"He won't be. He adores me. He won't stay mad over someone like her."
He then added, with a dismissive wave in my direction,
"Besides, you're the true daughter of the Vance family, the real heiress. This was always meant to be a union between our families. Why would we care about an outsider?"
An outsider?
Only my father and Grandpa Orson knew the truth of my identity.
My mother, the head of the Thorne dynasty, had entered a strategic marriage with my father.
I was destined to inherit the Thorne empire, which is why I carry her name.
And he really thought Seraphina was my father's biological daughter?
How little he knew.
Grandpa Orson's brow furrowed at Jude's words.
"Jude, don't be a fool. Are you certain you want to marry Miss Vance?"
Jude's response was to dramatically slip the engagement ring onto Seraphina's finger and press a devout kiss to her knuckles.
"Grandfather, my mind is made up. I will marry Seraphina and no one else."
A wave of disappointment washed over Grandpa Orson's face.
If this had just been about swapping fiancées, perhaps he would have overlooked it.
But for Jude to orchestrate this public humiliation, to intentionally drag me through the mud in front of everyone… it proved he was unreliable. Unworthy.
"Fine," the old man said, his voice flat and cold.
"Have it your way."
With Grandpa Orson's reluctant blessing, a collective sigh of relief rippled through the room.
The titans of industry invited to witness the merger of two great families had been holding their breath, waiting to see how the scandal would unfold.
Amidst the cacophony of hushed gossip, Jude led Seraphina to the microphone.
"Thank you all for coming today to celebrate the engagement of myself and Miss Seraphina Vance."
The guests exchanged glances, their faces a canvas of shock and intrigue.
No one had expected the Mantels and Vances to pull a stunt like this.
My father, who had been blindsided by the whole affair, saw his face darken with fury.
I felt a cold knot tighten in my stomach, but I forced my spine to remain ramrod straight, raising my glass high as if offering a toast to their union, a final, grand gift.
"Can you believe he switched fiancées on the spot? He didn't even try to save Sloane Thorne's reputation."
"I thought Old Man Mantel was dead set on her. What made him change his mind?"
"To be jilted at your own engagement party… how utterly mortifying. She must have done something to make Jude despise her that much."
The whispers weren't quiet.
My father shot Seraphina a withering glare before turning on Jude.
"Do you have any idea how much gossip your sister will have to endure because of this? And you," he seethed, turning to his other daughter,
"you're old enough to know better. Did you think for a second about the consequences, or were you just trying to humiliate me?"
Seraphina flinched under his tirade and meekly tried to pull the ring from her finger to hand it to me.
Grandpa Orson waved a dismissive hand, stopping her.
He turned to me, his eyes filled with a genuine, heavy guilt.
He gently patted my head.
"Sloane, my dear, don't you worry. Grandpa will make this right. If you're willing, there are other fine young men in the Mantel family."
Jude's parents overheard, but they dismissed it as a comforting platitude, nothing more.
They never expected my next move.
I pointed toward a shadowed corner of the room, where the black sheep of the Mantel family was watching the drama unfold with a lazy smirk.
"Actually," I said, my voice clear and steady,
"the one I've always admired is Cassius. I hope you'll grant us your blessing, Grandpa."
Every head swiveled to Cassius, then back to me, eyes wide with disbelief.
Cassius was the illegitimate son of Jude's late uncle.
After his father's death, he was ostracized by the family, his life a constant struggle for relevance.
Grandpa Orson, not wanting to be accused of mistreating his own blood, had begrudgingly taken Cassius in to live under his roof.
My father looked at me, utterly aghast.
"Sloane," he whispered urgently,
"I know you're upset, but he's an illegitimate son. The Mantels don't take him seriously."
I nonchalantly swirled the wine in my glass and raised it in Cassius's direction.
"He didn't choose his circumstances. I think he's quite impressive. I'm willing to give it a try."
Cassius's dark eyes met mine from across the room, his expression unreadable, almost mocking.
"If Miss Thorne insists," he called out, his voice smooth and detached,
"then let's give it a try."
The gazes fixed on me were now heavier, laced with a new, profound meaning.
