Chapter 3: The Ghost of the Corsage

The smell of cheap hairspray and wilting lilies. The sound of a bass-heavy pop song muffled by the gymnasium walls.

In the dream, it’s always the same.

Ethan stood by the punch bowl, his tuxedo collar scratching his neck. He was seventeen, and for the first time in his life, his heart wasn't calculating grades or sports stats. It was racing because Emily was walking toward him.

She looked beautiful. She had spent hours on her hair, and though her braces caught the light when she smiled, Ethan thought it was the most genuine thing he’d ever seen. He reached for the carnation corsage in his pocket, his fingers trembling.

"Ethan, wait."

Sarah appeared from the shadows of the bleachers, her eyes red as if she’d been crying. She grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

"Don't go to her," Sarah hissed, her voice a poisonous crawl. "I just saw her behind the equipment shed with Marcus. She was laughing at you, Ethan. She told him this was all a game to see how much money she could get your dad to spend on her. She said you were 'easy prey' because you're so desperate for someone to love you."

"That’s a lie," young Ethan whispered, his world tilting.

"Is it? Look at her," Sarah pointed.

In the twisted logic of the nightmare, Ethan looked. He saw Emily laughing with a group of people, but instead of her shy joy, the dream distorted her face into something mocking.

"She’s been cheating on you since the first month," Sarah lied, her voice echoing. "If you go to her now, you’re the joke of the school. But if you tell everyone it was just a dare... you get your pride back. You win."

Ethan felt the coldness settle in his chest. When Emily finally reached him, her eyes shining with hope, he didn't hand her the flowers. He let them fall into the trash can.

"Don't look so happy, Emily," he said, his voice loud enough for the gathering crowd to hear. "Did you really think I’d date a girl like you for real? It was a dare. And honestly? I’m bored now."

The sight of her face breaking—the way her eyes shattered and her shoulders slumped—was the last thing he saw before the gymnasium floor turned into a black abyss. Ethan bolted upright in bed, his chest heaving, sweat soaking through his silk sheets. He reached for his glasses on the nightstand with a shaking hand, the blurred world snapping into sharp, cold focus.

The digital clock glowed 3:14 AM.

He was in his multimillion-dollar penthouse. He was the CEO. He was powerful. But in the dark of his room, he was still that seventeen-year-old boy who had let a lie destroy the only real thing he’d ever had.

"Ethan?"

Sarah stirred on the other side of the king-sized bed, rubbing her eyes. She looked at him with a mix of annoyance and practiced concern. "The nightmare again? Honestly, it’s been ten years. You need to get over that girl. She was nothing back then, and she’s probably nothing now."

Ethan looked at Sarah—the woman he was supposed to marry in three months. For the first time, the "Moonlight & Venom" of Emily Thorne’s words from the gala echoed in his head.

“Sometimes the past is just waiting for the right moment to remind you of what you threw away.”

He didn't respond to Sarah. He got out of bed and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the city. Somewhere out there, Emily Thorne was sleeping in a penthouse with the heir to the Richard Group.

He didn't know if she was his Emily. He couldn't believe it. But the guilt in his gut told him that the "dare" he had used as a shield ten years ago was about to become the sword she used to execute him.

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