Chapter 37: The Villainess

If Lara wanted to play, she’d learn her place.

Layla clapped her hands lightly.

“Oh! Lara, since you’re Shay’s governess, maybe you can help?”

Her tone brightened artificially.

“There are extra drinks that need to be brought to the officers’ table. The staff’s short tonight.”

A lie.

There were plenty of servers.

“But since you’re used to taking care of people, it should be natural for you, right?”

If Lara obeyed, she looked like a staff. If she refused, she looked arrogant.

Several guests went quiet.

Lucas’ eyes darkened. He saw it instantly. So did Logan.

Layla smiled sweetly.

“So,” she tilted her head, “could you?”

…

Meanwhile, Summer spotted Liam across the lawn.

She didn’t approach immediately.

She paused near the bar, pretending to check her phone, watching instead.

It was an old habit. Observe first, then enter.

Liam stood with a loose ring of officers, posture straight, hands in his pockets, expression composed and distant — the same quiet authority he always carried, the kind that didn’t demand attention yet drew it effortlessly.

Men like that didn’t chase. They were chased. And women always noticed. Including her.

Then her gaze shifted.

Ah. There she is.

The fiancée.

Amelia Nades.

Summer had expected someone sharper, someone elegant. Someone who matched Liam’s quiet, disciplined presence.

Instead—

The girl looked small. Hovering at his side like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to stand there.

Hands clasped. Shoulders slightly hunched and smiling tentatively. Like she was apologizing for being there.

Summer’s lips curved faintly.

Oh.

So that’s the type. Not a partner. Not an equal.

She looked harmless and forgettable.

The kind of woman men settled for when they wanted peace, not fire.

A doormat.

Relief slid warm and slow through her chest.

Good. Then she’s not competition.

Her eyes drifted back to Liam.

He hadn’t even glanced at Amelia once during the last few minutes.

He didn’t check on her, didn’t include her in his conversation. There was no invisible thread between them. No intimacy.

If someone told Summer they were strangers, she’d believe it. But lovers? No way.

Interesting. Very interesting. Because Liam wasn’t cold to everyone. She knew that. She’d seen him soften.

She had seen that rare, quiet smile he only gave when he actually liked someone.

And a small, selfish thought surfaced before she could stop it.

I wonder… would he smile if I walked over?

The idea thrilled her more than it should have.

Not only because she wanted him. Not exactly. But because she could.

Because being chosen — even casually — felt like winning.

Her heels clicked softly against the grass as she made her decision. Her steps were slow and unhurried. A saunter, not a walk.

Every movement was deliberate.

Let them notice.

Let her notice.

She stopped directly in Liam’s line of sight.

“Liam,” she greeted brightly, her smile warm and effortless, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

She nodded politely at the others.

But she didn’t even glance at Amelia. Not by accident but on purpose.

Because ignoring someone was far crueler than acknowledging them.

If you don’t look at a person, they start wondering if they even exist.

“I thought you were going to pick us up at the airport,” she added, voice softening into something playful, almost coquettish.

She saw it happen instantly. That tiny shift in his expression.

The edges of his face easing.

His eyes warming.

And then he smiled, a gentle and real one, not the polite military one.

A personal one.

Summer felt a quiet spark of triumph.

But the woman in peach standing beside him frowned.

So he does have emotions. He just doesn’t spend them on everyone. She thought bitterly

Without hesitation, Summer slipped her hand around his arm, fingers curling comfortably against his sleeve like it was the most natural thing in the world.

If he pulled away, she’d laugh it off.

If he didn’t— he didn’t.

He simply let her. He didn’t even stiffen.

Summer’s heart fluttered with something dangerously close to satisfaction.

Across from her, Amelia went very still.

Like someone had pressed pause.

Summer caught it from the corner of her eye — the frozen smile, the way the girl’s fingers tightened, the way her gaze dropped.

And for a split second, sadness tried to surface. Then disappeared.

The woman looked tired.

If you can’t hold onto your own man, that’s not my problem. Summer smirked.

“Who’s this pretty woman?” one of the officers asked, grinning.

Summer laughed lightly.

Pretty. Not fiancée.

But still—

They noticed her.

And suddenly Amelia felt even smaller. Like background noise. Like furniture.

Summer didn’t miss that either.

And she loved how good it made her feel.

…

Earlier…

After greeting Ares, Liam found Amelia, who was waiting for him at the side with pleading eyes.

Liam paused and told her to follow him.

He stopped in front of the small cluster of officers like he was stepping into formation rather than into a social circle, his posture straightening automatically, shoulders squared, expression smoothing into that familiar, unreadable mask he wore whenever duty — or anything resembling it — took over.

The men greeted him easily, clapping his shoulder, trading quiet jokes, their laughter low and rough, the sound of people who trusted one another with their lives.

This was where he belonged.

Not at candlelit dinners.

Not in gentle conversations.

Amelia hovered half a step behind him, unsure where to place herself, fingers tightening around the strap of her purse as though it were something solid she could anchor to.

Someone noticed her.

“Oh — and who’s this?”

A simple question, normal and harmless.

But it made her spine stiffen anyway.

They all looked at Liam and waited.

He didn’t turn toward her. Didn’t reach for her hand.

His expression did not soften but remained sharp at the edges.

Like she wasn’t someone precious standing beside him.

Like she was just… there.

“Amelia Nades.”

His voice was flat and almost mechanical.

It wasn’t an introduction. Just a fact stated and dismissed, the same way he might identify a rank or recite a serial number.

For a split second, Amelia wondered if they’d even heard him.

That was it?

She glanced at him instinctively, waiting for more, but nothing came.

Her lips curved into a small, awkward smile to compensate for what he didn’t give, the kind of smile people wore when they were trying not to inconvenience anyone.

“H-hello,” she said softly, dipping her head a little too quickly, a little too deeply. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Her voice sounded thin even to her own ears, like it might dissolve into the air if anyone spoke over it.

Which they almost did.

One of the officers nodded politely. Another offered a distracted smile.

They weren’t unkind. But they weren’t interested either.

There was nothing about her that demanded attention.

No presence. No weight.

She felt like she was fading into the background of Liam’s world, like a shadow cast by something much larger.

Beside her, Liam had already shifted back into the conversation, seamlessly, effortlessly, as though introducing her had simply been a task to complete before returning to more important matters.

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