Ten yards away from Cassie's table, tucked into a dark, recessed booth in the corner of the restaurant, sat Arturo Harvey.
Arturo was Garrison's younger brother.
He was wearing a faded black hoodie pulled up over his head, hiding his face in the shadows. He had the same sharp jawline and dark hair as Garrison, but where Garrison was cold and controlled, Arturo radiated a volatile, aggressive energy.
Arturo was sitting with three of his old fraternity brothers, a pitcher of cheap beer sweating on the table between them.
From the moment the woman in the pink fur coat had started yelling, Arturo's eyes had been locked onto Cassie's table.
His jaw was clenched tight.
Because of the loud K-pop music and the sizzling grills, Arturo couldn't hear the actual words being spoken.
He could only see the body language.
From Arturo's perspective, he saw the obnoxious woman leaning over the table, pointing her finger aggressively in Cassie's face, screaming at her.
And what did Cassie do?
He watched her sit there, completely unfazed, like a porcelain doll that couldn't feel the insults. It disgusted him. To him, it wasn't strength; it was the empty, soulless composure of someone who had traded all their dignity for a price tag.
A wave of absolute disgust rolled through Arturo's stomach.
"Hey, Artie," one of his frat brothers said, nudging Arturo's shoulder and pointing a beer bottle toward Cassie's table. "Isn't that your sister-in-law? Looks like she's getting chewed out by some crazy chick."
Arturo grabbed his glass of beer and took a massive, angry swallow.
He slammed the glass back down on the table.
"Yeah," Arturo sneered, his lip curling in contempt. "That's her. The gold-digging parasite."
His friend raised an eyebrow. "You gonna go help her out?"
"Help her?" Arturo let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Why? She's just a pathetic gold-digger who will swallow any amount of disrespect as long as she gets to keep the Harvey name on her credit cards."
In Arturo's mind, Cassie was the villain. He believed she had manipulated her way into the marriage.
Seeing her sit quietly while someone screamed at her only confirmed his harsh judgment.
Arturo watched Brenda suddenly storm off.
Arturo had already turned his head away in absolute disgust to down the rest of his beer. Because he looked away at that exact second, Arturo missed Brenda slipping on the grease and the restaurant's wave of laughter. He just saw the woman march away, assuming she was victorious in her anger.
Arturo grips the edge of the table. His knuckles turned white.
She's a disgrace to the family name, Arturo thought, his blood boiling. Garrison is a machine, and she's a coward. They deserve each other.
His friend noticed Arturo's dark mood and quickly changed the subject.
"So, man, you going to that massive Harvey Family Gala next week?" the friend asked, trying to lighten the mood.
At the mention of the Gala, Arturo's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
He looked back at Cassie. She was calmly paying her bill at the table, completely unaware of his presence.
Arturo knew Cassie would be at the Gala. She would be forced to play the role of the perfect, elegant society wife in front of hundreds of cameras and billionaires.
An idea sparked in Arturo's mind. A cruel, vindictive idea.
If she was so willing to swallow her pride for money, he was going to test her limits. He was going to expose her fake, cowardly nature in front of the entire family.
"Yeah," Arturo said to his friend, his voice dropping to a low, menacing growl. "I'll be there. It's going to be very entertaining."
Across the room, Cassie stood up. She grabbed her Birkin bag and put on her blazer.
She turned and started walking toward the exit.
Her path to the door took her directly past Arturo's dark booth.
As Cassie approached, Arturo instinctively slouched lower in his seat, pulling the hood further down over his eyes. He stared at her from the shadows like a predator tracking prey.
Cassie walked past the booth.
She was looking down at her bag, her fingers digging around inside to find her MetroCard. She was completely focused on her own world.
She walked right past Arturo, less than two feet away.
A breeze followed her, carrying the scent of roasted meat mixed with the faint, clean smell of her expensive shampoo.
Arturo watched her push open the glass door and step out into the neon-lit Manhattan night.
A dark, mocking smile spread across Arturo's face.
He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar app. He stared at the date circled in red for next Friday: Harvey Family Charity Gala.
He tapped his thumb hard against the screen.
He was going to rip her mask off. He was going to make her break.
Out on the street, Cassie swiped her MetroCard and walked down the stairs to the subway platform.
She stood under the flickering fluorescent lights, feeling proud of how she had handled the day. She had secured her job, she had managed Garrison, and she had crushed her enemies.
