Chapter 4

Inside the venue, colorful laser lights swept across the crowded dance floor.

I walked over to the drink station and picked up a glass of sparkling water. Before I could even take a sip, Blake pushed through the crowd, pursuing me.

He hadn't been deterred by what happened on the red carpet. Instead, he had put back on his usual entitled, arrogant attitude.

"Stella, there were too many people outside just now. I’ll let that slide," Blake said, placing one hand on the bar counter, effectively trapping me between himself and the table.

"You know I never really cared if you were fat or not. I told you, you were always beautiful to me."

"But now that you're skinny, it's even better, isn't it?"

He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with condescension.

"The first dance is about to start. Come to the dance floor with me. I’ll overlook the fact that you threw away my dress, and we can call it even."

I turned around, leaning casually against the table.

I swirled my sparkling water, looking down at him.

"Blake, do you have trouble understanding English, or did you take one too many tackles to the head?"

"I didn't stand here tonight to show off my weight loss to you."

"I threw your trash dress away. And I'm throwing you away, too."

Blake’s expression darkened instantly.

His breathing grew heavy, clearly furious that I dared to defy him.

"Don't get cocky," he sneered.

"You think losing some weight means you can just dump me? If I hadn't spent every night voice-chatting with you, you would have rotted away in your own depression!"

"You belong to me—"

"She belongs to who?"

A cold, calm voice cut Blake off.

I looked up and saw Asher standing right behind Blake.

He was wearing a perfectly tailored, minimalist black tuxedo. He hadn't worn a tie, and the top two buttons of his white shirt were casually undone.

Unlike Blake, who practically radiated loud insecurity and aggression, Asher carried an aura of quiet, untouchable confidence.

As the son of the school board's chairman and an Ivy League-bound genius, Asher held absolute influence at this school.

When Blake saw Asher, his brow furrowed into a tight knot.

"Asher, this is a private matter between me and my girlfriend. Stay out of it."

"Ex-girlfriend," I corrected him.

Asher ignored Blake’s warning entirely. He stepped past him and stood in front of me.

He looked down, his calm gaze resting on my face. There wasn't a single hint of surprise in his eyes regarding my transformation.

It was as if he had always known I would look like this.

"Excuse me," Asher said, extending his right hand to me, palm up. His posture was flawlessly polite.

"May I have the honor of the first dance?"

Blake let out a dry, angry laugh. "Asher, do you know the rules? She’s my girl!"

Asher turned his head, casting a freezing look at Blake.

"Rules?"

"She told you to screw off. Did you lose your hearing along with your manners?"