Chapter Five

I woke to a throbbing, relentless headache that felt like a tiny, angry gnome was swinging a pickaxe inside my skull. My tongue felt like sandpaper, and my eyes were crusty and unwilling to open. I groaned, rolling over onto my stomach, instantly aware of two things: the incredible, soft luxury of the sheets, and the fact that I was completely naked.

I blinked my eyes open, instantly wide with panic.

The room came into hazy focus, and a cold wave of fear washed over the last dregs of my alcohol-induced bravery. This wasn't the cheap, standard-issue hotel room Lowri and I had rented. This was a sprawling, silently opulent suite, decorated in charcoal and silver.

Sunlight—too much, too bright—streamed through a wall of glass that revealed a terrifyingly high view of the entire city.

Where the hell am I?

My memory was a blurry, useless mosaic of tequila shots, a club, and a laugh that was maybe too loud. A cold spike of dread shot through me. Oh God, I hope I wasn't raped.

The fear was immediately overridden by the painful realization that my body felt less violated and more... thoroughly, aggressively used. Bruised in all the right, wrong places.

I lifted a shaky hand to rub my temple, and my eyes locked on it.

A ring.

A massive, sparkling, I-am-not-in-my-tax-bracket diamond ring was firmly situated on my left ring finger.

“Wtf!! ” I croaked, the sound barely a whisper. I stared at the ring, then back at the incomprehensibly luxurious room, then at the empty space beside me in the huge bed.

The silence was abruptly broken by the insistent, frantic buzzing of my phone. I scrambled for it, finding it nestled in the silk pillows. The time screamed at me from the screen: 8:30 AM.

“Oh, my God!” I yelped, the pain in my head momentarily forgotten. Lowri!

Her wedding was in less than an hour, and her maid of honor—her best friend—was nowhere to be found. The screen showed 10 missed calls, all from Lowri, likely escalating from worried to homicidal.

I launched myself out of the bed. The cool marble floor beneath my feet was dizzying, and I stumbled, desperate to find my clothes.

Hurry. Move!

My clothes were scattered like breadcrumbs from a hedonistic journey: my cocktail dress draped over a chair, my heels kicked into a corner, and my lingerie nowhere to be seen. I frantically yanked the dress back on, but the zipper was complicated, and I didn't have time. I grabbed my purse and found my phone charger, shoving it into the bag.

My brain was yelling, Lowri! Wedding! Get out! I searched the floor for my bra—no luck. I didn't have time to mourn it. I was in a place that looked like a king’s palace, completely naked underneath a cheap club dress, with a massive, terrifying rock on my finger, and I was late.

I was going to be the reason Lowri had a meltdown instead of a wedding.

I ran toward the door, my heart pounding a panicked drumbeat, leaving the silk sheets and the expensive chaos behind. I had one hour to get from this insane penthouse to the venue and somehow, impossibly, fix everything.

I burst out of the bedroom, not bothering to look back. The massive living area, with its floor-to-ceiling view, only confirmed that I was hundreds of feet above the city, miles away from where I was supposed to be. I fumbled for the button of the private elevator, my hands shaking so badly I missed it twice.

The gilded elevator descended in silent, terrifying speed. When the doors opened into the sleek, marble lobby, I didn't slow down. I ran, barefoot and zipping up the back of my wrinkled cocktail dress as I went, drawing several highly amused and highly judgmental stares from the impeccably dressed morning staff.

I stumbled out onto the sidewalk, squinting against the bright Vegas sun. It was chaos outside—traffic, tourists, and the merciless heat. I scanned frantically for a taxi.

A beat-up, yellow cab finally screeched to a halt at my wild wave. I practically threw myself into the back seat.

“The Bellagio, please!” I gasped, rattling off the name of the hotel where Lowri’s wedding and my shared budget room were located. “And please, please, can you do it in under forty minutes?”

The driver, bless his soul, took one look at my frantic, disheveled state, the massive diamond flashing on my finger, and my obvious distress, and simply nodded. “Hold on tight, ma’am.”

The drive was a blur of aggressive lane changes and muttered prayers. Every minute felt like ten. I kept staring at the diamond ring, feeling nauseous and dizzy. The sheer expense of it was a problem I couldn't even begin to unpack right now.

When we finally skidded to a stop outside the Bellagio, my phone was screaming with the 11th missed call.

I paid the driver, leaving a ridiculous tip, and sprinted through the opulent lobby of the massive hotel.

I rode the elevator up, adrenaline overriding the headache.

I burst into our shared, slightly dingy hotel room—the one that had felt so luxurious yesterday, but now looked like a closet compared to the penthouse.

Lowri was standing in the middle of the room, fully dressed in her incredible wedding gown, clutching a crumpled tissue, her mascara running, and her face a mask of furious, hysterical despair. The other bridesmaids were hovering uselessly.

“Story!” Lowri shrieked, the sound escalating into a full-blown tantrum. She threw the tissue at me. “Where in God’s name have you been? It’s 9:10 am!!

We’re supposed to be in the ballroom now! I thought you were dead! I called the police! I called your ex!”

She grabbed my arm, shaking me. “Your phone has been off for hours! You look like you slept in a dumpster! Where were you?”

I pulled my arm free, forcing myself to look remorseful and not completely terrified. My brain scrambled for a coherent, believable lie that didn't involve a penthouse or a diamond ring.

“Lowri, I am so sorry! I know, I know!” I rushed, waving my hands. “I was a complete idiot, okay? I drank way too much tequila last night. Way too much.”

I lowered my voice, leaning in confidentially, hoping the classic excuse would work. “I got separated from everyone on the dance floor, and my phone died. I ended up crashing on the sofa in the lobby of the wrong hotel—the one next door? It’s massive, I got confused. I only woke up when the janitor poked me with a mop.”

It was a terrible lie. But it sounded chaotic and drunk, which was perfectly in character for the maid of honor at a Vegas bachelorette party.

Lowri stopped crying, but her dark eyes were narrowed in suspicion, scanning my messy hair and bruised-looking neck.

“The lobby?” she repeated, skeptical.

“Yes! The huge leather sofa by the water feature,” I insisted. “I’m sorry, Lowri. But I’m here now. We have fifteen minutes. Get this mascara fixed, and let’s get you married, okay? I'm ready to maid-of-honor the hell out of this wedding.”

I moved immediately to the makeup station. I grabbed a wipe, frantically scrubbing the remnants of Lowri's melted makeup. As I leaned close to her face, concentrating on making her look like a bride again, I kept my left hand curled inward, hidden in my palm.

"Keep still," I instructed, my voice surprisingly steady. "We need precision."

I was midway through applying a flawless line of black liquid liner when Lowri's eyes, wide and focused in the mirror, suddenly dropped to my hand—my left hand—as I reached up to hold her chin steady.

The massive, terrifying diamond caught the light from the vanity mirror and flashed, an undeniable, blinding beacon of my downfall.

Lowri’s jaw dropped, forgetting to keep still.

“What. Is. That?!” she whispered, her voice dangerously quiet, all previous hysteria gone, replaced by frozen shock. She grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand closer to her face.

“Oh my God, Story! That’s… that’s not a joke ring! That’s enormous! Where did you get that?!”

I cursed internally. I needed a convincing lie that made the ring a prop, not a commitment. I looked at the sheer volume of Lowri's wedding dress.

She twisted my hand, angling the stone under the mirror light. “This looks like a three-carat cushion cut, Quimby. Wait, no. More like four. The setting alone looks like custom platinum!”

I yanked my hand back, shoving it into the pocket of my now-wrinkled cocktail dress. I forced a laugh—a weak, high-pitched, entirely unconvincing sound.

“You’re ridiculous, Lowri! You’re stressed!” I cried, grabbing the makeup brush back. “It’s a prop, okay? A joke! I know you’re a certified ring expert—remember how you made your fiancé replace your first one because the prong setting was ‘distracting from the natural flow of the cut’?”

Lowri’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. And I know a quality stone when I see one. You can’t tell me you—the girl who just bought three cans of soup for dinner last week—suddenly acquired a piece of jewelry that costs more than my entire catering budget.”

“Okay, fine, it’s not entirely a joke,” I conceded, rushing the words out before she could ask another forensic question. “I found it! In the lobby! Seriously, where I crashed.”

Lowri stared at me, her expression shifting from shock to pure, unadulterated disbelief. “You found a four-carat diamond ring in the lobby of a budget hotel?”

“It was under the sofa!” I insisted, leaning in conspiratorially. “It must have fallen out of some rich person’s purse. I was going to turn it in, obviously! But I was running late, and I put it on my finger so I wouldn’t lose it in my purse! It was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and I totally forgot!”

I grabbed her shoulders, spinning her gently back toward the mirror. “It’s temporary! I promise! It’s going straight to the lost and found after the ceremony. Now, eyeliner. We are out of time.”

Lowri let the lie hang in the air, her breathing ragged. She looked at the ring pocketed in my dress, then at the frantic desperation in my eyes. The crisis of her wedding day trumped the mystery of my bizarre jewelry acquisition. She had to get married.

“You turn that in before we get to the reception, Story. Or I swear I’m calling the hotel security myself,” she finally hissed, her voice laced with distrust. “Now fix my face. Please.”

“Done,” I breathed, relief washing over me. I quickly finished her makeup, making her eyes pop and covering the last traces of tears. “See? Goddess. Now let’s get you down the aisle.”