Luke's POV
I kept my eyes fixed on Oliver, giving him nothing but a blank stare.
For a brief moment, a flash of menace appeared in his eyes. Then, before anyone could react, he quickly raised his hand and slapped himself across the face.
The crack echoed through the event hall, sharp and loud enough to make people flinch.
He didn't hold back. One hit followed another, each one harder than the last.
In seconds, his cheek had gone red and swollen.
A thin line of blood smeared the corner of his mouth.
"Oliver!"
Shannon's voice cracked as she lunged toward him. She clutched his wrist with both hands, panic and tears spilling out of her.
"What are you doing? Stop it! Please, don't do this!"
Oliver thrashed against her hold, wild-eyed, like a man convinced pain was the only way left to make things right.
Tears and snot streaked his face as he choked out, "Shannon, let me go! I'm poison. I don't deserve to live! I embarrassed Luke. I ruined your engagement party. I'm not even human. I should die!"
Then, he pounded his chest with his free hand, as if hitting himself could erase what he had done. Shannon clung tightly to his arm, crying so hard that her tears wouldn't stop.
Then Shannon spun toward me, her eyes blazing—the same eyes that once drew me in, now filled with anger.
"Luke, are you happy now?" Her voice cracked, trembling with emotion. "What more do you want? Will you only be satisfied when he's dead? He's still just a kid. He knows he was wrong. What more do you want from him?"
She looked at me as if I were the villain in all of this—cold, heartless, torturing some innocent soul.
That look burned away the last bit of warmth I had left for her.
A kid?
A 'kid' who tampered with my brakes and almost killed me on the highway.
A 'kid' who held up a ridiculous surrogacy contract at my own engagement party.
A 'kid' who was now deliberately hurting himself to corner me.
And Shannon still called him a kid?
Oliver sagged in her arms as if all his strength had vanished, his voice cracking into ragged gasps. "Don't blame Luke, Shannon. I brought this to myself. It's all my fault. Don't blame him…"
The more Oliver played the martyr, the more pity clouded Shannon's eyes, and the sharper her anger turned on me. She clung to him protectively, shielding him like a mother guarding her child, and glared at me as if I were the true villain in the room.
"Look at him! Just look at what you've driven him to!" she hissed. "Luke, I never thought you could be so cold-blooded. I was wrong about you!"
Her chest heaved with each word as she said that, her fury shaking the air between us.
Then, in a flash, she raised her hand.
Before anyone could stop her, and the guests even had time to react, her palm came across my face.
Another slap.
It landed hard, and a hot sting bloomed across my cheek.
The event hall went dead silent.
Everyone stood frozen, stunned by what had just happened.
Shannon's hand lingered in the air for a heartbeat, as if even she couldn't quite believe what she had just done. But the shock didn't last. Her fury came roaring back, sharpened by that fierce instinct to protect.
She pointed at my face, her voice cold, final, and heavy with the kind of threat she expected me to take seriously.
"Luke, apologize to Oliver right now. This very second. Or… our engagement is over." Shannon's voice cut like venom as she forced the rest out.
Her eyes locked on mine, blazing with fury and threat. But beneath the anger, I caught the flicker of panic and the faint spark of hope. She was betting I'd cave like always, throw away my pride for peace, smooth it over, forgive Oliver, and let them walk away victorious.
And so, the moment the words left Shannon's mouth, Oliver leaned into her shoulder. And right then, hidden from her view, his lips curled into the faintest, most smug, self-satisfied smirk.
