Chapter Four

Every tearjerker has a scene where the other woman frames the heroine.

And tonight's birthday party was the hero's first big moment of torturing the heroine.

The script was a cliché: pretend to be pushed, act pitiful and beg for mercy, the hero goes ballistic and forces an apology.

It was so cliché I could recite it.

Nathan was up ahead talking with friends when Sienna wandered lazily over to me.

"Sis, Nathan hasn't said a word to you all night. He must really be mad. Do you think he's starting to hate you?"

I raised an eyebrow. Go on.

"If Nathan found out you were bullying me, would he hate you even more? Should we try it and see?"

Before I could answer, Sienna's expression changed. She gasped, pretended I'd shoved her, and tipped over backward toward the cake behind her.

I just watched. I didn't grab her. I didn't move out of the way.

At the last possible instant before she hit the cake, Lucas appeared at her side and caught her with his body, pushing her back up.

Sienna went from nearly falling to standing bolt upright, propped straight by him.

But the momentum carried Lucas the other way. He stumbled sideways into the wine table.

With a huge crash, every glass on the table smashed to the floor.

Lucas landed sitting on the ground. A long gash had opened across the back of his right hand from the broken glass. Not one of his ten fingers had touched the floor.

"Lucas!"

I cried out and ran to him, the picture of worry—and shoved Nathan hard out of the way as he came to check on Sienna.

When I saw Lucas's hand covered in blood, I clenched my fists and rounded on Nathan, furious.

"When did you get so jealous? I've told you over and over, Lucas and I are just friends! Why would you pull a dirty trick like this?"

The accusation left both Nathan and Sienna stunned.

"What do you mean? What do you mean, I did it?"

"Wasn't it your idea? Sienna has no reason to have it out for Lucas. Why else would she push him on purpose? You can't stand him, so you had her do it, didn't you?!"

I got angrier and angrier, pressing him harder with every word.

The System, which I hadn't heard from in a while, suddenly popped up. […You're really something. You've completely mastered flipping the blame.]

I let my voice lilt happily. [Mm-hmm~]

On the floor, Lucas caught my hand with his bloody one. "Blair, don't blame them. I'm fine. It was my own fault for being careless."

"How can you say you're fine!" I looked frantic. "Your hands are how you play! With an injury like this, how are you supposed to tour next month?"

Sienna hadn't seen any of this coming. All she could do was keep insisting she hadn't pushed him.

I turned and snapped at her: "Shut up!"

Then I faced Nathan and said, low and steady: "Apologize to Lucas."

System: [Wow. The heartbreak meter is going crazy.]

Nathan's face was frighteningly white. He stared at me in disbelief. "I didn't do anything, and you want me to apologize to him? Blair, this is my birthday party. You want me to apologize to your childhood friend at my own birthday party?"

I looked impatient. "If you do something wrong, you apologize. Is that so hard to understand?"

Every eye in the room was on us.

Nathan's fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had gone white.

He held his neck rigid, his eyes red, and for a long time he didn't make a sound.

Lucas's hand was still bleeding. Frantically, I tore a strip off the hem of my gown and wrapped it around his hand. "No, this is too much blood. You need to go to the hospital right now."

"It's just a scratch. And it's Nathan's birthday party…"

"How is that just a scratch? Do you want to play piano again or not? Come on. We're going to the hospital."

And with that, ignoring Nathan's red eyes completely, I took Lucas's other, uninjured hand and walked out of the ballroom.

As I passed Nathan, I made sure to slam my shoulder into him, hard.

He staggered and had to grab the edge of a table to stay on his feet.

I looked every bit the heartless, cold-blooded cheating wife.

System: [The heartbreak meter's at 50%. Did you see Nathan's face back there? He looked like he was about to shatter.]

[Serves him right! Feels good, huh? That move's called striking first.]

[Never mind if it feels good for me. I know you're having a blast.]

You bet I am.

Torturing the scumbag, playing the villainess—I could do eighty more episodes of this!