Nora's POV
The champagne glass slipped from my hand.
It happened in slow motion—crystal tumbling through the air, golden bubbles catching the light, then exploding against the marble floor in a thousand glittering pieces. Just like my life was about to.
"Nora, darling, are you alright?" My stepmother Veronica's voice dripped with fake concern. She knew. I could see it in her cold smile. She absolutely knew what was coming.
I stood frozen in the middle of the Plaza Hotel ballroom with two hundred people staring at me. My engagement party. My perfect night. Except nothing felt perfect. My stomach had been twisted in knots for the past hour, and I didn't know why.
Marcus, my fiancé, had been acting strange all week. Whispering on phone calls. Disappearing for hours. And worst of all—spending way too much time with my stepsister Vivian.
But I pushed those thoughts away. Marcus loved me. We were getting married in three months. My father had planned this entire party. Everything was fine.
Everything was fine.
Except Marcus was now walking toward the stage, and Vivian was right beside him. They were holding hands.
My heart stopped.
"What's happening?" I whispered to my best friend Jessica, who stood next to me looking pale.
"Nora, we need to leave. Right now." Jessica grabbed my arm hard.
But my feet wouldn't move. I watched Marcus take the microphone like I was watching a car crash happen in front of me—horrible but impossible to look away from.
"Thank you all for coming tonight!" Marcus's voice boomed through the speakers. He was smiling. Actually smiling. "I have an important announcement to make."
No. No, no, no.
"Nora and I won't be getting married."
The room went dead silent. You could have heard a pin drop. Or a heart break. Mine was breaking so loud I thought everyone could hear it.
Marcus looked right at me. His eyes were cold. How had I never noticed how cold they were? "I'm sorry, Nora. But I can't marry someone I don't love."
The whispers started. Hundreds of them, all at once, like angry bees.
"I'm in love with someone else," Marcus continued. He turned to Vivian, who was standing there in a red dress, her hand covering her mouth like she was shocked. But her eyes were gleaming. She looked triumphant. "I'm in love with Vivian Chen."
My stepsister. My own stepsister.
"We've been together for six months," Marcus said. Six months. While he was engaged to me. While he kissed me goodnight. While he talked about our future children and the house we'd buy. "And tonight, I want to ask her properly."
He got down on one knee. Right there. At my engagement party.
"Vivian Chen, will you marry me?"
Vivian pretended to cry. She nodded and threw her arms around him. Marcus slipped a ring on her finger—a huge diamond that was bigger than mine. Much bigger.
The crowd erupted. Some people gasped. Others pulled out their phones to record. A few actually clapped like this was some romantic movie instead of the destruction of my entire life.
I looked for my father. Richard Chen stood near the bar with his arms crossed. Our eyes met, and I waited for him to do something. To stop this. To defend me.
He turned away.
That's when I understood. He knew. My father knew about this betrayal. Maybe he even planned it.
"Nora?" Jessica's voice sounded far away. "Nora, we have to go."
But I couldn't move. I stood there in the middle of the ballroom in my white dress—the dress I'd bought specifically for tonight because Marcus said white made me look like an angel—and watched my life explode.
Vivian was showing off her ring to people now. Marcus was accepting congratulations. And the whispers were getting louder.
"Poor Nora."
"I heard she's crazy jealous."
"Marcus probably left her because she's unstable."
"Vivian is so much prettier anyway."
Lies. They were all lies. But I could see how quickly the story was changing. In five minutes, I'd gone from victim to villain in everyone's minds.
My stepmother Veronica appeared beside me. She leaned close and whispered in my ear. "You should have done what your father asked, Nora. You brought this on yourself."
What Dad asked. The memory hit me like a slap.
Three months ago, my father had called me into his office. He wanted me to spy on the Bennett family—his biggest business rival. He wanted me to seduce their son, Dr. Elias Bennett, get close to him, steal company secrets.
I'd said no. I told him I wouldn't be his corporate spy. I was engaged to Marcus. I had morals.
This was my punishment.
"You did this," I breathed, staring at Veronica. "You all did this."
She smiled. "You're embarrassing yourself, dear. I'd leave before you make it worse."
The room was spinning. Faces blurred together. Camera flashes went off like lightning. Someone was definitely recording this for social media. By tomorrow, I'd be a joke to everyone in New York.
I ran.
My heels clicked against the floor as I pushed through the crowd. People moved aside, whispering, judging. I heard Vivian's laugh—high and cruel—following me like a curse.
I burst through the hotel doors into the night. Rain was pouring down in sheets. Within seconds, I was soaked.
Cars rushed past on the street. People with umbrellas hurried by without looking at me. I stood there shaking—from cold or shock, I couldn't tell.
I pulled out my phone to call someone. Anyone.
My best friend Jessica hadn't followed me out. My other friends were all inside, probably already choosing Vivian's side because she had money and status and I was about to have nothing.
I tried my father's number anyway. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe he'd answer and tell me he didn't know, that he'd fix this.
The call went straight to voicemail.
I tried my apartment. The doorman always answered. Except this time, a recorded message played: "This number is no longer in service."
Ice ran through my veins.
I opened my banking app with shaking fingers. My account balance showed zero. Not just my checking account. My savings. My trust fund. Everything was frozen.
No. This wasn't possible.
I tried my credit cards. All declined. Every single one.
My father hadn't just known about the betrayal. He'd orchestrated my complete destruction.
Thunder rumbled overhead. Rain plastered my hair to my face. I was standing outside the Plaza Hotel in a white dress that now looked like a wet tissue, with no money, no home to go to, and no one who cared if I lived or died.
A black car pulled up to the curb. The back window rolled down, and my father's face appeared. Cold. Emotionless.
"You made your choice, Nora," he said. "You refused to help the family. Now you get to see what life looks like without the family's protection." He paused, and something almost like satisfaction crossed his face. "You're no longer my daughter. Don't come home. Don't call. Don't embarrass us further."
"Dad—" My voice broke.
"Richard," he corrected. "You call me Mr. Chen now."
The window rolled up. The car drove away.
I stood there in the rain, watching the taillights disappear, and something inside me cracked wide open.
I had nothing. No home. No money. No family. No fiancé. No friends.
I was completely, utterly alone.
My phone buzzed. Through the cracked screen—when had it cracked?—I saw notifications exploding. Social media posts. Photos of me running from the party. Videos of Marcus proposing to Vivian. Articles were already being written with headlines like "Socialite Nora Chen's Engagement Implodes" and "Unstable Heiress Loses Everything."
The story was already being rewritten. By tomorrow, everyone would believe I was the problem. The jealous, crazy ex-fiancée who couldn't handle her man falling for someone better.
I wanted to scream. To cry. To break something.
Instead, I laughed.
It was a bitter, broken sound that scared even me. But I couldn't stop. Because the joke was on all of them. They thought they'd destroyed me. They thought this was the end of Nora Chen.
They had no idea what they'd just created.
A woman with nothing to lose is the most dangerous thing in the world.
I looked back at the Plaza Hotel, glowing warm and golden in the rain. Inside, my former life was celebrating. They were drinking champagne and congratulating Marcus and Vivian. They were gossiping about poor, pathetic Nora.
Let them.
I turned and walked into the rain, my white dress dragging through puddles, my phone buzzing with cruel messages I didn't bother to read.
I had one hundred dollars in my purse. One pair of heels that were giving me blisters. And a nursing degree I'd gotten years ago—the one my father called "a cute hobby" and forced me to abandon for a job at his company that I never wanted.
Maybe that degree could save me now.
Or maybe I'd be homeless by morning.
Either way, this was the worst night of my life.
But something told me it was also the first night of something new.