A Bitter Toast

POV: Roman

I pushed my half-eaten plate aside and picked up my crystal glass of brandy, swirling the amber liquid to focus my gaze anywhere but on the sickening display of affection across the table. The heavy silver cutlery scraped against porcelain as the rest of the table finished their meals, but my appetite had vanished the second I connected the dots about the woman sitting across from me. I masked the bitter, metallic taste coating my tongue with a practiced smile.

"I’m so elated for you two. I really wish I could make it to the wedding, but I can’t. I’ll be tied up with work."

After the explicit reality of what transpired between me and his brand-new fiancée last night, there was zero chance I was showing up to watch them exchange vows. I didn't trust Sienna for a single second. God only knew what kind of stunt she would pull in a room packed with Chicago’s elite.

Preston tilted his head, a slight crease forming between his brows. "You don’t even know when the wedding will take place."

I cursed my careless slip-up. It made me sound like I was scrambling to dodge his milestone for no reason at all. I recovered without missing a beat, keeping my unyielding gaze fixed on Sienna.

"I know it’ll be soon, considering the breakneck pace you’re moving at right now. I’ve got a crucial business deal I’m closing in Seoul. I won’t be around much, which is exactly why I cleared my schedule to be here tonight. Once the deal is signed, I’ll fly back and visit you lovebirds. Maybe by then I’ll have a little godson or goddaughter on the way."

I flashed a teasing grin to steer the conversation away from my blunder.

Beatrice waved a manicured hand from the head of the table. "Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still have plenty of time for babies."

I nodded and raised my glass higher into the air. "Of course. Let’s toast to the new couple."

My voice remained steady. I watched Sienna hesitate. Her knuckles turned stark white as her fingers gripped the stem of her glass tight. She looked like she was facing a firing squad as she lifted her drink to join the toast.

"Cheers." Preston clinked his glass against mine with a wide, genuine smile.

The rest of the table echoed the sentiment. Sienna’s movements were rigid. Her lips barely grazed the rim of her glass before she lowered it back to the table like it burned her.

When the heavy dinner service finally concluded, Beatrice turned her attention back to me. "How long will you be staying in Chicago, Roman?"

I kept my tone casual and relaxed. "I’m flying out tonight. I have an early meeting tomorrow morning, and my luggage is already loaded onto the private jet."

Preston shot forward in his seat, his eyebrows jumping up in surprise. "Tonight? So soon?"

I didn't miss the quiet exhale of relief escaping Sienna’s parted lips. I caught the immediate shift in her posture from the corner of my eye. Her stiff shoulders sagged. The terrified tension drained out of her frame. She thought she was off the hook and out of the woods just because I was leaving town. She was dead wrong.

"Yeah. I would have loved to stay longer, but work won’t let me." I glanced at Preston.

Preston clapped a heavy hand onto my shoulder. "Well, since you’re leaving so early, you’re spending the rest of the night with me. You owe me a proper farewell drinking session. We have a lot of catching up to do."

Beatrice stood up and smoothed the front of her designer dress. "You boys go ahead. Arthur and I are exhausted and need to get some sleep."

She and Preston’s father excused themselves and swept out of the dining room. The departure left just me, Preston, and Sienna sitting in the heavy silence.

I turned my attention to Sienna. She sat frozen in her chair, radiating a nervous energy. Her wide eyes darted around the room, and her hands were clasped so tight in her lap that her fingernails dug into her skin. I saw right through her innocent, startled-dove act.

"What about her?" I nodded toward her, keeping my tone neutral but razor-sharp.

Sienna’s head snapped up. "Oh, I’m fine. I can stay right here and wait."

Leaving her alone felt like giving a trapped rat time to chew through the wires and spin a massive web of lies. I stared her down, daring her to refuse my command. "You can come with us."

She shrank back into her seat, her fingers twisting the edge of her linen napkin into a knot. "No need. I wouldn’t want to intrude on your time together."

I gave a careless shrug, content to let her stew in her own mounting guilt. "Suit yourself."

Preston smiled at her with sickening gentleness. "You can ask the housekeeper if you need anything while we're gone."

We left the dining room behind and walked down the sprawling hallway to the liquor room. The oppressive atmosphere cleared the moment we escaped Sienna’s frantic nervous energy. I stepped into the dim, wood-paneled space and sank deep into one of the plush leather sofas. The rich scent of aged cedar and expensive whiskey filled the room. Preston walked straight to the mahogany bar. He poured us each a heavy measure of brandy. The amber liquid caught the low light from the crystal chandelier above.

He walked over and handed me a glass before settling into the matching leather sofa directly across from me. "Here you go."

I took the glass and set it straight down onto the heavy glass table between us. "Thanks, man."

After last night, I had zero intention of touching alcohol while I was still under the same roof as Sienna. Not a chance in hell.

Preston leaned back against the cushions and raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? You used to be a party animal. What happened to you?"

I let out a hollow chuckle. "I grew up. Plus, I’m still nursing a lingering hangover from the jet lag and all the alcohol I threw back yesterday."

The lie rolled off my tongue with practiced ease. But my mind betrayed me. The intrusive, vivid memories of last night crashed over me with the force of a physical blow. The polite dinner conversation vanished, replaced by the raw, filthy reality of what we had done. I remembered the exact, suffocating heat of her wet cunt gripping my hard cock. I remembered the wet, slapping sound of my body driving relentlessly into hers, pinning her down against the mattress. I remembered the way her naked body arched up to take me deeper, and the wild, desperate moans she made while I fucked her senseless. I clenched my jaw tight and shoved the explicit images down into the dark corners of my mind.

Preston shook his head, oblivious to the storm raging inside my head. "You missed out on all the fun last night. What were you even doing after you vanished from the party?"

Fucking your new fiancée. The brutal truth screamed in my head. I crushed the urge to say it out loud and kept my expression carved from stone.

"Sleeping, actually. I went up to one of the guest rooms and dozed off. I left early this morning." I kept my voice even.

Preston took a sip of his drink, his tone turning wistful. "You could have stayed so we could spend more time together. We barely see each other anymore."

"We’ve been busy running massive companies. And one of us now has all his free time dedicated to a single woman." I steered the conversation toward safer, more familiar territory.

I pushed a little further, careful to sound uninterested in his romantic life to test the waters. "I never thought I’d see the day a woman would actually tame you."

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and let out a dismissive scoff. "As if any woman could ever tame me."

A cold wave of relief washed through my chest. He wasn't completely blinded by this ridiculous whirlwind romance. That was a good sign. It meant I wouldn't shatter his reality when the truth came out.

He poured himself another splash of brandy, keeping his eyes on the bottle as he caught me off guard. "What do you really think about her?"

I froze for a split second. My eyes narrowed slightly before I caught myself and smoothed my features into a mask of indifference. Why the hell was he asking me that?

I shrugged my shoulders, playing it as cool as I could. "She’s okay. I mean, she’s beautiful. Seems smart. A bit clumsy."

I chose my words with extreme caution, locking down the memory of how soft her skin felt and how loud she moaned when she came on my cock.

Preston rolled his eyes. A fond, pathetic smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I know all the obvious stuff. But I meant your personal opinion about her."

This was my opening. This was my chance to plant a toxic seed in his mind and hint at the ugly truth without detonating a bomb in the middle of his house. I wanted to confess the truth right then and there. God, I wanted to lay out every filthy detail of last night. But the heavy weight of reality gnawed at my conscience. Telling him would instantly strain our long-standing friendship, maybe break it for good. I knew exactly how Preston’s mind worked. He would assume I fucked her out of pure spite, just to sabotage his happiness or get back at him for some petty grievance from our past. I had no idea who she was when I took her to that room, but he would never believe that. I wasn't going to lose my best friend over a scheming, gold-digging receptionist. I decided to take the tactical route.

I picked up my glass and swirled the brandy slowly. "I think you need to slow down on things."

He didn’t look angry, just curious. "Why?"

I set the glass down with a heavy thud, delivering the blunt truth without dressing it up. "Because it’s obvious she’s a gold digger who is just around you for your money. She is using you as a social ladder to climb out of her tax bracket."

Preston’s brows shot up toward his hairline. "Are you saying a woman can’t love me unless I’m rich?"

"I’m not saying that. I just mean you need to take a step back. Get to know more about her before you tie yourself to her for the rest of your life." I countered, leaning forward to hold his gaze.

Preston let out a soft laugh. His voice was firm and unbothered. "Your concern is nice, but my mind is made up. She is exactly what I want in a woman."

I scoffed, unable to resist poking holes in his delusion. "I thought you preferred high-profile socialites, runway models, and actresses. I didn’t know you were into bagging petty staff from the lobby of your own company."

Sienna had a pretty face, but she was a million miles away from his usual type. He used to mock women who played the fragile, innocent card. What the hell had changed his mind?

Preston leaned back into the leather sofa. His expression shifted into resolute sincerity. "I am done with those superficial types of women. I want someone genuine. I want someone I can actually settle down with and have a family with. Sienna wants the exact same things. Plus, I know I can trust her to be more faithful than all the high-end ladies in Chicago combined."

The bitter irony of his words hit me like a physical punch to the gut. The sheer absurdity of him praising her absolute faithfulness less than twenty-four hours after she rode my cock in a guest room was staggering. I almost burst out laughing right in his face. I bit my tongue hard, swallowing the ugly truth down like battery acid.

I forced a tight, polite smile onto my face. "Yeah, you’re right. I’m happy for your choice. Congratulations."

I let the conversation die right there. I leaned back into the shadows of the sofa and made my final decision. This wasn’t my mess to clean up. Preston had dug his own grave by falling for a manipulative trap. If Sienna kept her mouth shut, I would keep mine shut too. I was content to stay silent, watch her from a distance, and wait for her inevitable slip-up. She was a greedy, reckless liar, and women like her always ended up ruining their own lives.