Chapter 33

Owen's POV

One gala, right into another.

This one felt less like an event and more like a loud, glittering outdoor carnival masquerading as high society. The kind of place where you had to squint—not just from the blinding sunlight reflecting off sequins, but from the overwhelming brightness of fake smiles and floral beds.

The garden gleamed like a diamond, its white marble pillars standing tall amidst tempered glass that threw rainbows across the crowd.

Every detail screamed money, from the crystal chandeliers hanging impossibly from trellises to the pristine, sculpted hedges that framed the pathways. Even the air felt expensive, perfumed with a mix of roses and wealth.

And there I was, stuck in a suit that cost more than the computer I’d built from scratch last summer. The tie felt like a noose around my neck, tightening with every step. Sophia had insisted on the outfit, of course, and I knew better than to argue now.

“You’ll look adorable,” she’d said earlier with that smile that always made my stomach churn. “Just follow my lead, darling.”

Darling. The way she said it made my skin crawl. It wasn’t affectionate; it was a reminder of my role. I wasn’t a person to her—I was a prop. A perfectly positioned pawn on her ever-expanding chessboard.

And tonight, the board was crammed with media, influencers, and every other breed of social climber who thrived on spectacle. Sophia fit right in.

“Owen, sweetheart,” she said now, her voice sugary as she leaned down to adjust my tie. Her manicured nails brushed against my neck, I shivered. “Smile. You look like you’re at a funeral.”

“Maybe I am,” I muttered under my breath. RIP to my dignity.

She froze for a split second, her polished exterior cracking just enough for me to see the warning behind her smile. “Just behave. Or—”

“I know, I know.” I raised my hands a bit. “I’m on my best behavior. See? Hands clean, mom.”

Satisfied—for now—she straightened up, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd like a predator sizing up its prey.

The cameras started flashing the moment we stepped into the garden. It was like walking into a firestorm of artificial light. Sophia’s smile widened instantly, radiant and fake, as if she thrived on the attention.

People turned to look, their whispers and admiring glances trailing behind her like a second gown. Dispite her cool aura, she had this way of commanding a room without saying a word, her presence alone demanding attention as much as her red flaming hair.

I followed two steps behind her, the obedient little accessory she wanted me to be.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sophia began, her voice dripping with charm, “thank you all for being here tonight. It means so much to Alexander and me.”

She gestured toward my dad, Alexander, who stood a few feet away, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. But even with that subtle tension in his jaw and his stormy gaze scanning the room, he was impossible to ignore.

He had this quiet, magnetic power about him, the kind that drew people in even when he wasn’t trying. The tailored suit fit him like a second skin, and the way he carried himself—with an air of unshakable confidence—made everyone else in the room seem smaller.

It was hard to believe sometimes that he was actually my dad. We were so… different. But not in the way was Sophia and I.

“As many of you know,” Sophia continued, her voice turning syrupy sweet, “Alexander and I have been building something truly special, both in business and in life.” She paused, letting her words linger in the air like a tantalizing secret. The crowd leaned in, murmurs rippling through the sea of designer gowns and tailored tuxedos.

Then she dropped the bombshell.

“As some of you know, this is our son, Owen. Who is drawing ever closer to his devue in the pack.”

Her hand landed on my shoulder, and I stiffened. The room fell silent, and I could feel every single eye on me, their gazes like lasers boring into my skin.

“He’s the light of our lives,” Sophia said, her voice full of practiced affection.

I resisted the urge to laugh—or maybe cry. Light of their lives? Sophia barely acknowledged me unless it suited her plans, and Alexander? Judging by the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, he hadn’t known this little speach was coming. His face was calm, a perfect mask of composure, but I could see the storm brewing in his eyes.

But Sophia wasn’t done.

“We’re so excited about the future,” she said, her smile widening. “And who knows? Maybe there will be another announcement soon.”

The crowd erupted into whispers, their excitement spreading like wildfire.

“Engagement?”

“Are they getting married?”

“Another child?”

“Did you hear that?”

Sophia basked in the chaos, her smile never faltering. She was in her element, thriving on the attention and speculation.

I glanced at Alexander again. He stood frozen, his jaw tightening even more as he stared at Sophia. For a split second, our eyes met, and I saw something there—regret, maybe? Or guilt? Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough to make up for this mess.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of forced smiles and hollow conversations. Sophia paraded me around the garden, introducing me to people whose names I’d forget by morning. I played my part, nodding and smiling like the obedient son she wanted me to be, but inside, I was seething.

The worst part came when I overheard her talking to a reporter.

“Owen’s such a bright boy,” she said, her voice dripping with false pride. “He’s going to do great things one day. Just like his father and mother, of course.”

I clenched my fists, biting back the urge to say something I’d regret. I wasn’t some shadow… let alone her son.

By the time the event started winding down, I was done. Completely, utterly done.

The tie felt like it was strangling me, the air too thick with perfume and lies. As Sophia mingled with the last of the guests, I slipped away, weaving through the crowd until I found the exit.

Surely, I had held up my end of the deal.

No one noticed me leave. Not even Sophia. She was too busy soaking up the attention, basking in the glow of her own success.

Outside, the cool night air hit my face, and I inhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm raging inside me. But it wasn’t enough. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness—it all bubbled to the surface, threatening to explode.

I needed to get out of here. I needed to go somewhere safe. Somewhere she couldn’t find me.

There was only one place I could think of.

Dr. Ava’s house was a haven of normalcy in a world that felt anything but. The lights were on when I arrived, casting a warm glow across the front yard.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should even be here, why it even felt so safe. But then I remembered Sophia’s words, her manipulations, her lies.

I couldn’t go back. Not tonight.

I knocked on the door, my heart pounding in my chest. A few seconds later, the door opened, and there she was. Her long brown curls framing a face softened when she saw me, her hearth like eyes filled with nothing but concern.

It felt so right…

“Oh my God. Owen.” She stepped aside, pulling me inside without a second thought. “What happened? Are you okay?”

I didn’t know what to say. The words caught in my throat, tangled up with everything I was feeling.

All I cared about was I felt safe. Like I was home.