5
Chase couldn’t sit still any longer. He abruptly stood, striding over to snatch the brandy from Anya’s hand. His face was grim.“You forgot what the doctor said? No more drinking!” His voice was so sharp, the room fell silent. All eyes turned to them.
Anya, slightly tipsy, smiled even more alluringly.
“Chase, aren’t sweet? Don’t you
worry,
I know my
limits.”
The director, already drunk, chuckled.“He’s crazy about you. Remember when you filmed that kissing scene? He caused a scene on set!”
Another slightly inebriated guest chimed in, “That’s right! He’s a hopeless romantic. Once he falls for someone, he falls forever!”
nya quickly explained, “Don’t be silly. My stomach’s been giving me trouble; he’s just afraid I’ll get another ulcer.”
Chase glanced at Scarlett, then at the curious onlookers. He took Anya’s hand, pulling her toward the exit.“We need to talk!”
A bitter wave of emotion washed over Scarlett. Five years older than her, Chase was always mature, composed, and impeccably calm. To see him so distraught, in public no less, was shocking.
She felt everyone’s scrutinizing gaze, her discomfort growing. She rose and went to the terrace.
The night air was cool, the terrace unlit. The ballroom’s glow cast dancing shadows. She found a secluded chair, catching sight of Chase and Anya engaged in a heated argument by the flowe bed.
Finally, Chase turned to storm off. Anya reached for him. He angrily jerked her hand away; she stumbled, losing her balance and falling into the flower bed.
Hearing the thud, Chase rushed back, pulling her out. She was clearly hurt, her ankle twisted. He scooped her up, carrying her to the red Ferrari, placing her in the passenger seat before speeding off.
A silver high–heeled shoe lay discarded beside the flower bed.
With the main players gone, the party began to disband. Returning to the ballroom, Scarle found the remnants of a celebration, the aftermath of revelry. The cleaning staff looked a with a mixture of pity and gossip.
Scarlett, her white heels crunching on fallen rose petals, slowly exited the ballroom. The Ferrar was gone.
“Miss Taylor,” a male voice rang out from behind.
Scarlett’s heart skipped a beat; the voice sounded familiar.
Turning, she saw a blond Eurasian man, around thirty, with deep–set eyes and a prominent nose. He was handsome enough, but there was a sleazy glint in his eyes, something unsettling. He extended his hand. “I’m Uri, a Georgian–Chinese.”
Scarlett didn’t take his hand, turning away.
Uri awkwardly retracted his hand.“I’m a friend of Chase’s. Taxis are scarce here; I can give you a ride.”
0.7%
Sarlett politely declined.“No, thank you. The club has a car service.”
The fifty–thousand–dollar annual fee included chauffeured transport. She walked toward the waiting vehicle.
Uri watched her graceful back and licked his lips, a predatory smile spreading across his face. The woman who had captivated
captivated Chase for three years was clearly amazing Feeling uneasy, Scarlett entered the club car, noticing Uri still watching her with a malevolent stare. Remembering his conversation with Chase, a wave of nausea swept over her,
She gave the driver her address, urging him, “Let’s go.”
Bored, she checked her phone. The top four trending topics were Chase, Anya, and herself.
“Chase carries injured Anya into city hospital; Anya possibly seriously injured and disfigured!”
“Chase throws birthday party for new girlfriend; ex–girlfriend Anya attends, the pair have a private meeting in the garden, then leave!”
“Chase’s new girlfriend is seven out of ten similar to Anya, a real–life ‘stand–in‘ drama!”
“After six years, will Chase and Anya rekindle their romance?”
Photos, videos, the whole story. The picture of Scarlett presenting the cake to Anya was especially
clear.
Anya’s fans flooded the comments, some wishing Anya and Chase to get back together, others warning Scarlett to back off. Many suspected Scarlett of injuring Anya out of jealousy, their comments vile and hateful. Only a few felt sorry for Chase’s
for Chase’s new girlfriend.
Scarlett trembled with rage. How dare they publish her photos without her permission? In that exclusive club, guest privacy was paramount; the release of this information couldn’t have happened without consent. It meant Chase, the host, had agreed.
She immediately sent cease–and–desist letters to the websites, demanding they remove the images and videos and alleging violation of her image rights.
Within minutes, her photos and videos were deleted. But it was too late; they’d already been downloaded countless times, spreading all over the internet.
Scarlett didn’t stay angry for long; she’d regained her composure by the time she reached her villa. Stepping inside, she saw countless photos of Chase and her, a cruel reminder of their betrayal.
