Chapter 3: Rivals, Rumors, and Old Friends

Bella wore a pale pink designer dress, pearls sparkling on her heels. She looked every bit the delicate little flower, the kind of girl you’d see in Vogue, sipping tea in a penthouse.

*“Bella’s here! Everyone say it: Princess, please step out!”*

*“Princess, please step out!!! Slay, Queen!”*

*“Alex Reed is so handsome. That face is like a young Carter Dean!”*

*“Stop comparing him to Carter! Aren’t you tired?!”*

*“Heh, Carter Dean’s fans are just like him—so rude.”*

*“How come Bella Monroe looks a little plain standing next to Emmy…”*

*“You must be blind! Our Bella is the prettiest, period! Idiot!”*

Bella clearly noticed the chat comparing us. She shot me a look—one with a little more edge, her smile just a shade too tight.

Alex lowered his eyes, playing the polite card, and reached out to my brother: “Mr. Dean, long time no see. Hope you’ll show me the ropes this time.”

Before my brother could answer, the chat started roasting him.

*“See, how polite Alex Reed is!”*

*“Carter Dean’s a tyrant in the industry. Guess the rumors are true.”*

*“Look at Alex, he looks so pitiful—must’ve been bullied by Carter before!”*

I caught a flicker of pride in Alex’s eyes. He was loving every second of this. Milking the underdog image for all it was worth.

Playing this game, huh?

Alright, two can play at this game. I pulled my brother behind me, leaned in close to Alex, and asked in my sweetest voice:

“Hey, why does your nose look so shiny?”

Alex panicked and covered his nose, looking like he’d been caught with spinach in his teeth on national TV.

“You… what are you talking about?!”

I’d already heard from my brother that Alex, desperate to ride his popularity, had gotten a bunch of work done to look like a “Young Carter Dean.”

Alex glared at me, red-faced and pissed. Then he stomped over to the couch, his shoes squeaking against the hardwood like they were protesting, too.

Bella ignored us, pretending to cozy up as she sat next to Miles. She draped herself across the armrest like a movie star.

The chat played right into her hands.

*“The Park Avenue Princess and Prince—what a perfect pair!”*

*“Some nobodies aren’t even worthy to greet our princess.”*

*“Not in the same league. Bella Monroe is a real heiress.”*

She kept tapping her teacup, making these little noises, clearly hoping Miles would talk to her first. The porcelain clinked in the awkward silence.

But he just picked up a magazine and ignored her, flipping pages like he was searching for something more interesting than the drama unfolding in real time.

Bella tried to approach Hannah instead, but just as she was about to say something, Hannah jumped up and hurried over.

She grabbed my hand and plopped down next to me. Guess I had a new shadow. My brother followed and sat beside us, too, forming a little wall of solidarity.

“Emmy, I heard you just got back from studying in London. Was it fun?”

“I want to go to Oxford someday—can you tell me about it?”

“By the way, Emmy, can I come visit after the show?”

Hannah was a total bundle of questions, chatting away. Her curiosity was contagious.

Bella sat awkwardly beside us, forcing a smile. Her fingers twisted the hem of her dress, betraying the nerves she tried to hide.

*“What’s going on? Isn’t Bella close with the Sinclair siblings?”*

*“It’s weird—she’s supposed to be a rich heiress, so why does she seem so left out?”*

*“Hannah and Emmy get along so well!”*

*“Two cute girls, so nice to look at!!!”*

Bella glanced at the chat, biting her lip. She stared at me jealously, until her eyes landed on my necklace.

“Hey? You have this necklace too?”

Bella pretended to be surprised, her voice extra loud, like she wanted the whole house—and the whole internet—to hear.

The crew noticed and zoomed in on my collarbone. The camera’s focus felt like a spotlight, making the room suddenly warmer.

She walked over for a closer look. I could feel the camera zooming in, the heat rising in the room.

“This is a design by Jenna, right? There are only five in the world. I didn’t expect you to have one too?”

“But… it looks a little different from mine…”

She let her words hang, then acted like she’d just realized something, covering her mouth in fake shock.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to say you bought a fake!”

“Jenna is an international jewelry designer I really respect. I misspoke—sorry, really.”

The chat turned on me instantly. The mood flipped in a heartbeat.

*“Someone actually wore a fake on the show, LOL!”*

*“Look how classy our princess is, not like some people.”*

*“Brother’s a rage monster, sister wears fakes. Hahaha, toxic siblings!”*