The late afternoon sun streamed through the tall, arched windows of the private hostel, a grand, ivy-draped mansion where Eliana, Jason, and Sarai lived as college students. The golden light spilled across the shiny floors of the sprawling living room, glinting off the complex chandelier that hung like a constellation above. Eliana sat on a plush luxurious sofa, her slender frame wrapped in a soft woven sweater, a gift from her adopted grandfather, whose vast wealth had lifted her from a life of struggle to one of privilege. Her brown eyes, usually warm with hope, were clouded with grief, and her long, curly black hair spilled over her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face, now etched with pain. The faint scent of lavender from the maid's cleaning lingered in the air, mingling with the aroma of the chef's rosemary-roasted chicken wafting from the kitchen. Yet, inside Eliana's chest, a storm of hurt churned.
Two days ago, at a college fundraiser, Eliana had overheard something that shattered her heart. It wasn't Jason's voice that had wounded her, but his silence. His wealthy friends, gathered in a corner of the opulent venue, had been mocking her past, their voices dripping with scorn. "She's just Kenneth Holloway's charity project," one had sneered, his wine glass glinting in the light. "Her dad's some sick nobody, leeching off Mr Holloway. And Eliana? She's just going about performing a fake princess act." The others had laughed, their cruel chuckles echoing, but what pierced Eliana most was Jason—her Jason, the boy she'd loved since childhood—standing there, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he joined their laughter. He hadn't said a word to defend her or her father, hadn't even flinched. Instead, he'd laughed along, his golden-boy charm masking a betrayal that cut deeper than words.
Now, alone in the hostel's luxurious living room, Eliana sat with her fingers twisting the delicate gold bracelet her grandfather had given her for her last birthday. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her warm brown cheeks. "Maybe he doesn't love me anymore," she whispered, her voice cracking. The thought was a lead weight in her chest, suffocating the hope she'd clung to through Jason's dismissive moments and careless glances. She'd always forgiven him—his late-night study sessions that smelled faintly of whiskey, his flippant remarks about her "new money" status—but this? His silence, his laughter, felt like a betrayal of everything they'd built.
The heavy oak door creaked open, and Sarai Monroe glided into the room, her glossy jet-black hair swept into a sleek bun that shimmered under the chandelier's glow. Her light brown skin glowed with the faint sheen of her signature body oil, and her emerald-green eyes sparkled with a concern that seemed almost too polished. Dressed in a tailored silk blouse and a designer skirt, Sarai was the picture of elegance, her heels clicking sharply on the marble as she crossed to Eliana. "Eliana, darling, you look like you've been crying," she said, her voice honeyed but with a practiced edge. She dropped her Prada purse onto the sofa and pulled Eliana into a hug, her floral perfume enveloping the space. "What's wrong, baby? You sounded so upset on the phone."
Eliana's lip trembled as she sank back into the sofa, Sarai settling beside her with the grace of a runway model. "It's Jason," she choked out, her voice barely audible. "At the fundraiser, I heard his friends… they were making fun of my past, my dad. They called him a leech, said I'm just Kenneth's charity case. And Jason—he didn't say anything, Sarai. He just laughed with them, like it was funny." Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands, sobs shaking her slender frame.
Sarai's eyes widened, a flicker of satisfaction crossing her face before she masked it with a sympathetic frown. She reached out, rubbing Eliana's back in slow, deliberate circles. "Oh, baby," she murmured, her tone soft but laced with a calculated sharpness. "That's awful. I can't believe he'd just stand there and let them talk like that. But maybe… maybe this is a sign. Jason's always been spineless when it comes to his friends. He's not good enough for you, Eliana. You're in college now, living this incredible life, and he's letting you down."
Eliana lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and glistening. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice small, vulnerable.
Sarai sighed dramatically, tossing her head so her bun caught the light. "You're not dumb, Eliana. You deserve someone who stands up for you, who fights for you. Jason's too weak, too caught up in his rich little world to care about your feelings. You're killing yourself trying to hold onto him, and for what? A guy who laughs when his friends mock your family?" She leaned closer, her green eyes locking onto Eliana's. "You need to break up with him. For you. You're too kind, too incredible, to let him treat you like this."
Eliana's breath hitched, her fingers tightening around her bracelet. Sarai's words echoed her own fears, amplifying them until they felt like truth. "I… I think you're right," she whispered, her voice trembling with resolve. "I can't keep pretending this is okay. I love him, but maybe love isn't enough." Maybe she was like her mother after all. Eliana straightened, wiping her tears, a spark of determination ignited in her chest. "I'm going to his room tonight. I'm going to end it."
Sarai's lips curved into a faint smile, quickly hidden as she squeezed Eliana's hand. "That's my girl," she said, her voice warm but her eyes cold. "You're stronger than you know."
*********
That evening, Eliana stood outside Jason's room in their shared hostel, her heart pounding like a drum. The hallway was lined with antique mirrors, reflecting her nervous figure in her elegant, cream-colored dress, another gift from her grandfather. At age ten, her old sneakers were long gone, replaced by sleek ballet flats, but she still felt like an outsider in this world of wealth. She'd rehearsed her words a hundred times: Jason, we're done. I can't be with someone who doesn't defend me. But standing here, her resolve wavered. She loved him—the boy who'd shared his lunch with her in middle school, who'd promised her forever under the stars. Could she really let him go?
Before she could knock, the door swung open, and Jason stood there, his blonde hair tousled, his hazel eyes wide with surprise. He wore a tailored blazer over a crisp shirt, looking every bit the charming heir she'd fallen for. "Eliana?" he said, his voice a mix of confusion and charm. "What's up? I was just about to text you."
Her throat tightened, but she forced the words out. "Jason, we need to talk. I—"
"Come to the lounge," Jason interrupted, grabbing Eliana's hand before she could respond. He pulled her quickly down the hall, his grip firm and unrelenting.
Eliana stumbled after him, confusion swirling in her chest. The lounge door swung open, and she froze.
Her breath caught. The grand room, with its towering drapes and roaring fireplace, was filled with people. Men and women in designer suits and dresses stood chatting softly, glasses of wine in hand. Jason's parents were there, smiling and mingling among the guests, their polished presence commanding the room.
How… how are there so many people here? Eliana thought, her heart thudding. When did they arrive? How did I not hear them come in?
She felt her pulse quicken with unease, her eyes darting through the crowd. And then she spotted Sarai standing near the fireplace, just as wide-eyed as she was. Sarai's green eyes blinked in disbelief at the gathering before her gaze flicked to Jason, then to Eliana. Her lips curved into a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Eliana, darling," Sarai drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "What a surprise."
Eliana swallowed hard, her stomach twisting with dread as she realized Sarai hadn't known about this either. Whatever Jason was planning, neither of them were prepared for it.
Eliana had frozen in shock, her rehearsed speech dissolving under the weight of their stares. "I… I went to talk to Jason and..." she stammered, her voice barely audible.
Jason turned to her, his expression softening into something almost genuine. "Eliana, I've been an idiot," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I've taken you for granted, and I'm sorry." Before she could respond, he dropped to one knee, pulling a smooth red box from his pocket. The room gasped, and Eliana's heart stopped as he opened it to reveal a dazzling diamond ring, its facets sparkling like a promise.
"Eliana Bennett," he said, his voice dense with so much love—or a convincing act, "I love you to the moon and back. Will you marry me?"
The room spun. Eliana's eyes darted to Sarai, who stood rigid, her smile frozen, her fingers clenched around her wine glass. "Eliana," Sarai said quickly, stepping forward, her voice low but urgent. "Think about this. You were just telling me how hurt you were. He didn't even defend you. Are you sure? People don't change that fast."
Eliana's gaze flicked back to Jason, his hazel eyes pleading, his smile so familiar it ached. She thought of his laughter at the fundraiser, his silence as his friends tore her apart, of the years she'd loved him, of the hope she'd clung to despite the pain. But she also thought of the boy who'd held her hand through her fears, who'd promised her the world. Maybe he could change. Maybe this was his way of proving it.
"I… I love you too, Jason," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
The room erupted in thunderous applause as Jason slid the glittering ring onto her trembling finger. It felt impossibly heavy, like a golden shackle locking her into a life she wasn't sure she chose, yet it also felt like the fulfilment of every little girl's fairytale dream. For a split second, as he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers, she allowed herself to sink into the illusion – to believe that this was love, that this was forever.
Sarai clapped along with everyone else, her perfectly manicured hands moving in practiced rhythm. But her smile was stretched thin, like plastic pulled too tight, and her eyes burned with a simmering rage that Eliana, lost in her dizzy haze of champagne and cheers, was far too innocent to notice.
The celebration roared to life around them – crystal glasses clinking, the sharp pop of champagne corks punctuating the air, laughter rising and falling like waves crashing on a shore. Eliana's phone buzzed insistently in her pocket, a tiny vibration that somehow cut through the cacophony. She fumbled it out with shaky fingers, expecting another congratulatory text or a friend's excited scream through the speaker.
Instead, her chest clenched at the sight of her father's name glowing on the screen.
"Excuse me," she mumbled politely, gently slipping away from the circle of well-wishers. Her heart pounded with an uneasy rhythm as she pressed the phone to her ear. "Hello? Papa?"
His voice was weak, strained with something that sounded like desperation. "Eliana…please come home. Now. Something bad has happened."
The words sliced straight through her euphoria. The ring on her finger, only moments ago a symbol of glittering promises, now felt like a slab of iron dragging her under. Her vision blurred at the edges as cold dread pooled in her chest. She didn't even hear Jason calling her name behind her as she turned and began to walk away from the party lights, her entire world already beginning to crumble under her feet.