Chapter 2 Who's This Sad Little Stray?

Three days back, Olivia tracked down Natasha.

"You heard Lucas is gearing up to propose, right?" Olivia said.

Her gorgeous eyes sparkled with jealousy and a nasty edge. "Rumor has it the family was ready to fast-track an engagement bash, but Lucas? He's all about the big moment. Wants to hear you say 'yes' with his own ears. Man, he's really going all out, huh?"

"What's your point?" Natasha shot back, cool as ice.

Olivia's lips curled into a vicious smirk. "My point? Why does a trainwreck like you get to be happy, Natasha?"

"Wanna make a bet?" she sneered. "I'm calling it—this proposal's gonna crash and burn in three days."

Natasha locked eyes with Olivia. Everyone saw Olivia as this sweet, classy angel, but no one caught the poison in her gaze like Natasha did.

Sure, Natasha could've nixed the proposal with one word, but Olivia was playing the long game, waiting for the perfect moment to yank the rug out from under her, just like always.

*****

The proposal was a total flop. Sadie had just bolted after a frantic call from her family, her face pale as a ghost.

She'd offered to drop Natasha off—Natasha had ridden with Lucas—but Natasha overheard it was about her mom and told Sadie to go.

Now, with the place cleared out, Natasha stood alone, staring at the drooping flowers. Thinking back on the night's pathetic proposal, she let out a dry, bitter chuckle.

It was late, the streets dead quiet. Instead of heading home, she wandered along the river, letting the chilly breeze clear her mind.

But it didn't take long to sense something was wrong.

Someone was tailing her.

She faked a selfie, catching a glimpse of a few guys closing in behind her. Heart racing, she picked up her pace, but they stayed right on her tail.

Her fingers slipped, accidentally hitting the emergency contact Lucas had set up a year ago.

Back then, she'd gotten into it with some sleaze hitting on a girl, snapped his arm, and landed in the police station. Lucas bailed her out, nagging her the whole time about being too reckless.

He'd made himself her emergency contact, telling her to call him if she was ever in a jam—no matter when, no matter where, he'd show up.

Guess this was the first time she'd actually needed it.

Lucas's exhausted voice came through. "Natasha?"

He was already at the hospital. The car crash wasn't too serious, but Olivia—born premature, always delicate—had been rattled bad. Only Lucas could calm her down.

The Clark family was camped out in the waiting room, and he'd just gotten Olivia to doze off when the phone rang, stirring her awake.

"Lucas, someone's following me," Natasha whispered.

A long silence. "Natasha, I can't do this tonight. Quit messing with me."

He thought she was pulling a fast one to drag him away from Olivia.

Madeline, Natasha's mom, overheard and grabbed the phone, her usual warm face now stormy with rage. "Natasha! Your sister's in the hospital, and you can't even bother to show up. Now you're out stirring up trouble in the middle of the night, making up lies?

"When are you gonna act your age? Nobody's leaving Olivia to deal with your crap tonight. Get a grip!"

Click. The line went dead.

Olivia, pale and fragile on the hospital bed, spoke softly. "Mom, don't be mad. What if Natasha's really in trouble?"

Madeline handed the phone back to Lucas, her face heavy with disappointment. "Trouble? The only trouble she's got is trying to steal the spotlight from you when you need us most.

"This isn't her first stunt."