Page 2 of The Encore’s Crown

He kisses me, flashes erupt around us. My friends whistle then shout a new hybrid couple name for us, Rydalia and I shudder. Ew, that’s horrific. Ryder deepens our kiss for the cameras he knows are watching and right as I’m letting him, barely, just for show… my phone buzzes in my hand. I pull away and look down. Seriously?

Happy New Year, Nat.

Four words. A year of silence exploding in my chest like fireworks and glass shards.

I hate him.

I hate him so much I could scream. I hate him because my heart is still stupid enough to care. Ryder licks his lips like he thinks our kiss meant something.

“Damn, Nat,” he grins. “That was—”

But I’m not listening, I’m still staring at my phone. At a message from a man who never met me, never touched me, never gave me anything… but still has the power to destroy an entire year of distance with one notification.

Kiri

The club is a mess of color and sound, strobe lights cutting through the dark while bodies move in wild, shimmering waves, the perfect example of L.A.’s glossy shine with none of the depth. Rithy’s perched beside me in VIP, legs spread, shirt half-unbuttoned, pounding back champagne like it’s electrolytes and he’s hydrating for sport. A man full of the runway poise Rithy admires is draped over him, sculpted lines catching the club’s dim light. A woman with the kind of beauty that lives on billboards settles against me, unbothered and sure. A typical New Year’s for the Chhim brothers, with Rithy clearly in his element.

I’m in mine too. Mostly.

Delaina, at least I think her name's Delaina, has glued herself to my side for the better part of an hour, with glossy lips and perfume and the kind of confidence only people who’ve never heard “no” seem to have. She nuzzles my jaw like we already belong to each other, waiting for me to kiss her again. She makes a contented noise against the shell of my ear, a noise that implies we’ve already agreed on where the night is going, and I let her. One hand rests loose on her thigh, my thumb making lazy sweeps over bare skin while she smiles against my neck.

This is the kind of New Year’s I understand, then my phone buzzes.

I glance down without thinking, more habit than urgency, and see Natalia Sawadzka’s name because someone has posted a story and tagged her in some glittering countdown mess full of champagne and screaming twenty-something-year-olds.

Rithy notices instantly. He leans sideways, peering directly at my screen. “Who are you stalking?” he asks over the music. “Because unless her name is Cher, you should absolutely not be ignoring this stunning woman currently trying to climb into your bloodstream.” He gives her a slight smile before returning his gaze to my phone.

I angle the screen away on instinct, even though it’s already too late and he breaks into a slow, wicked grin.

“No way,” he mutters, delight tangled with offense. “No fucking way.”

I glare at him. “Leave it alone.”

But he’s already starting. “Natalia Sawadzka?” he says, like the name itself comes with legal consequences. “On New Year’s Eve? Big brother, are you bored? Have you decided the next era of your life should involve Rafe putting you through drywall?”

I open my messages instead of answering. I give him a look.

“I’m smoothing it over.”

Rithy laughs into his champagne. “You? Smoothing things over? You’ve never smoothed anything over that didn’t involve a hotel key and someone’s underwear on a lampshade.”

Delaina shifts closer, bored with the interruption, her fingers sliding over my chest. “Kiri,” she murmurs, mouth brushing near my ear. “Are you working right now or just trying to make me jealous?”

“Neither,” I say, and give her thigh a light squeeze. She smiles, satisfied. Rithy doesn’t. I type before he can keep going.

Happy New Year, Nat.

My thumb hovers. It’s casual. Polite, even. A normal message from one adult to another. Two adults who will soon be forced into the same orbit. That’s all. I tap send.

Rithy watches the little whoosh animation with the expression of a man witnessing a preventable tragedy. “There it is. The first bad decision of the year already. Historic. Champagne?”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, the further you stay away from Natalia, the better for everyone with bones they’d like to keep unbroken.”

“Rafe doesn’t scare me.”

Rithy gives me a flat look. I lean back, sliding my arm along the back of the booth. Delaina takes it as an invitation and tucks herself closer, her mouth finding the underside of my jaw again.