I clicked "Add."
She accepted the request instantly. And then, a message popped up.
[Do you believe me when I say I’ll make sure your engagement party never happens?]
The words echoed in my mind, lingering like a whisper of impending doom.
The missed calls on Mathias’s phone became more frequent, his screen lighting up relentlessly.
And every so often, when he thought no one was watching, I caught glimpses of something unsettling, a fleeting smirk, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Then came the night before the engagement banquet.
Without warning, Nathalia stopped calling. The endless messages ceased.
Silence fell. And somehow, that silence felt far more ominous than her threats ever had.
As I walked past the study, the unmistakable sound of vases shattering in a fit of rage reached my ears.
When Mathias saw me, his expression shifted, quickly masking the fury that had been boiling just moments before. He casually kicked the broken pieces aside, attempting to cover up his outburst.
"Irene," he said, his tone forced, "tomorrow is our engagement banquet. I’m just… nervous."
He took a breath, trying to regain composure. "Go rest, I'll be in shortly."