Jenna winced at the force of his grip, but she didn't pull away. She leaned into the pain, using it to anchor her voice.
"Why did I hit her?" She repeated his words slowly, her lips curling into a cold, jagged smile. "Are you not going to explain yourself? What is she doing in your apartment, Scott? In your clothes?"
"Scott, don't be mad, it's my fault," Lily spoke between sobs, her voice a fragile reed. "I shouldn't have fallen in love with you. Jenna hates me because of it... Please just let me go."
Scott's grip on Jenna vanished instantly. He reached for Lily's arm, his touch transforming into something agonizingly gentle. "It's not your fault. Don't ever say that." He assured her calmly. "I love you, Lily. If anyone is to be blamed here, it's me."
The words struck Jenna like a thunderbolt. Everything seemed to blur around her, the air turned to lead, and even her ears rang.
Scott was her fiancé. But he stood in front of her, confessing love to her best friend as though Jenna wasn't even there.
Her lips trembled. "You… love her?" The words were barely a whisper, but her voice cracked like glass.
Scott finally looked at her, but there was no warmth in his eyes, no hesitation. No flickering memory of their shared childhood… only cold certainty. "Yes."
Her heart stopped.
Lily, still in his arms, lowered her lashes to hide the victorious glint in her eyes. Her sobs grew softer, more delicate, as she nestled against him, as if she belonged there.
Jenna staggered back. "So that's it? That's what you call love? Betrayal behind my back, and lies to my face?" Her chest rose sharply, anger flooding through her grief. "You two deserve each other."
Scott snapped, his jaw clenched, but he still held Lily tightly. "Don't twist this, Jenna. You and I… we were kids. Lily and I… this is real."
"Real?" Jenna laughed coldly. "Real is when you stand by someone when their world burns down. You didn't choose love Scott, you chose the easy way out." She wiped away a stray tear before it could fall, her gaze hardening. "Don't ever say my name again. You lost that right the moment you touched her."
For a second, his grip on Lily faltered, his expression flickering with something… guilt, hesitation, but Lily's fingers tightened on his shirt, pulling him back to her.
"Scott please, I don't want Jenna to be angry. She's my friend and I shouldn't have." Her voice was soft and fragile. "Jenna please don't do this. Scott and I are in love."
"Stop," his voice was firm and his grip on her hand tightened but he cared not to hurt her. "Why should you leave when it's you I love?"
Jenna scoffed as she watched them bicker over who should carry the blame. "What a performance," she said coldly. "You both would excel in the entertainment industry, you know?" Her gaze was hard and unyielding, her voice turned sarcastically quiet. "You two deserve each other… liars and cheats make the best couple."
With that, she turned sharply, her heels clicking against the floor, marking the end of her girlhood. But as the door shut behind her, she swore to herself this would be the last time she ever shed tears for Scott Castilian.
Scott stood frozen his arms still around Lily, but his eyes lingered on Jenna's retreating figure until the door slammed shut.
And for a fleeting moment, guilt twisted in his chest. But he shook it off, noticing the woman in his hands.
Jenna was strong, she would survive anything. But Lily … Lily was fragile. She needed him, depended on him, and that stirred his protective side. He had cared for Jenna once, but she was always too tough, too willful, always standing on her own. Lily was different. She was soft, delicate, and pure. And Scott loved his women that way.
A sharp buzz pulsed from her purse, dragging her back to the present. The parking lot, the confrontation with Scott… it all faded as she saw the caller ID; 'Dr. Wembley,' on her phone screen.
"Hello?" she answered the catcall, her heart climbing into her throat.
"Ms. Smith?" The male voice sounded at the other end of the phone.
"Yes, Dr. Wembley?"
"Please can you come to the hospital? I have some things to discuss with you." The doctor's voice was clipped, professional, and devoid of good news.
"Okay." She ended the call, hurrying off campus.
Jenna arrived at the Lance Memorial Hospital within minutes. The hospital was the best facility in Greenwood City and the most expensive.
She walked up to her mother's room floor and spotted Dr. Wembley making his ward rounds. She stood by the door waiting patiently for him to finish.
"Miss Smith," Dr. Wembley called out to her when he saw her.
"Dr. Wembley," she acknowledged him.
Since Dr. Wembley still had some rounds to complete, he had decided to speak with her shortly in the hallway.
"Miss Smith, we're out of time," he said without preamble. "Your mother's outstanding bills are one thing, but the surgery window is closing. Dr. Hanfield needs the payment by the end of the week to schedule the operation. If we miss next week, we won't be able to save her."
Jenna leaned against the sterile white wall, the world spinning. "A hundred and twenty thousand dollars? In a week?"
"I'm sorry, Jenna. I wish I could do more." He patted her shoulder and walked away, leaving her in the cold.
Jenna didn't notice the pair of dark, predatory eyes watching her from the end of the hall.
"Huh? Isn't that Miss Smith?" The man's assistant asked him.
He had followed his boss's fixated gaze to a certain distance but he hadn't expected to see Jenna Smith.
The man beside him… tall, imposing, draped in a suit that cost more than the hospital wing didn't blink. His gaze was fixed on Jenna's slumped shoulders. "Find out what's going on there." Eric Castilian ordered, his voice a low vibration. Then, he turned and strode away.
Jenna sat by her mother's bed for twenty minutes, staring at the pale, translucent skin of the woman who had once been her world.
"I'll save you, Mom, I'll do whatever I can. Please just hang in there for me." She looked at her mom with a gentle gaze, her lips curved into a warm smile.
Her phone rang again. Dr. Wembley.
"Miss Smith, are you still here? Come to my office. Immediately." He sounded breathless, almost frantic.
When Jenna walked in, the doctor was holding a small, elegant business card. "Someone settled it, Jenna. All of it. The back bills, the surgery, the recovery fees. Everything is paid in full."
Her phone buzzed with the hospital's confirmation. She scrunched her face, confusion mixing with annoyance.
Jenna took the card, her fingers trembling. On the front, a single name was embossed in silver.
CASTILIAN.
Castilian, the name always drew attention. Why would a Castilian help now?
Her blood ran cold. Scott? No. Scott didn't have the spine for a gesture this quiet—or this expensive.
Her eyes fell to the number at the back of the card.
Jenna dialed the number before she could talk herself out of it. It picked up on the first ring.
"Olympian Hotel, seven p.m.," a deep, impatient voice commanded.
Click.
Jenna stared at the dead screen. That wasn't Scott. That voice belonged to someone far more dangerous. Someone who didn't give gifts—only investments.