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"She’s just like a sister to me, Eliana. You’re being dramatic."
That was Jax’s excuse every time he chose Catalina over me for three years.
When Catalina staged a fake drowning in three feet of water, he pushed me aside to save her, telling me my life wasn't his problem.
But the breaking point came when she deliberately pushed me down a flight of stairs.
My ankle shattered on the concrete. I was lying there in agony, unable to move.
Yet, Jax didn't check on me.
He stepped over my bleeding body to scoop Catalina up because she had a minor scratch on her elbow.
He screamed at me for "hurting" her.
While I lay in the hospital alone, waiting for surgery, he was spoon-feeding her soup in her dorm, posting photos captioned "My Hero."
He thought I would always be his "Elie Bear," the doormat waiting at home to clean up his messes.
He was convinced that no matter how much he hurt me, I would never actually leave.
But he was wrong.
I didn't scream. I didn't fight.
I simply signed the withdrawal papers, blocked his number, and boarded a one-way flight to New York without saying goodbye.
Three months later, when Jax finally realized his "sister" was a nightmare and came crawling back to beg for forgiveness, he found me.
But I wasn't alone.
I was holding the hand of a billionaire heir who looked at Jax with cold, deadly eyes.
"Touch her again," my new fiancé whispered, "and I will destroy your entire family by morning."
Chapter 1
The splash shattered the curated perfection of the pool party—a violent intrusion—yet it paled in comparison to the brutality of the words that followed.
Catalina had fallen into the water. It was a performance, a clumsy pirouette of limbs that anyone with eyes could identify as staged, her gaze locked onto Jax the entire way down. But Jax didn't see the performance. He only saw the damsel.
He didn't hesitate. He didn't glance my way. He launched himself into the pool, creating a second wave that sent cold, chlorinated water slapping against my legs.
I stood frozen on the concrete, the memory of our agreement clawing at my throat. Just yesterday, he had promised me.
"If she causes one more scene, Eliana, I'm done. I promise."
He surfaced, gasping, clutching a coughing Catalina against his chest as if she were fragile porcelain. He swam her to the edge, right to my feet.
"Jax," I whispered, my voice fracturing. "You promised."
He looked up then, water dripping from his dark hair, his eyes hard and unfamiliar. He didn't see his girlfriend of three years standing there. He saw an obstacle.
"Not now, Eliana," he snapped, hoisting Catalina onto the deck. "Your life is not my problem right now."
The air left my lungs.
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