Caroline stormed out of her father's Upper East Side mansion, the cold night air biting at her exposed skin. It should have made her shiver. Instead, she felt nothing but the heat of her own resolve burning in her veins. Her Louboutins clicked sharply against the marble steps as she descended toward the waiting black car, her grip tightening around her clutch.
She had made up her mind.
Nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to stop her.
Not her father's overbearing demands. Not his sudden change to her blind date. And certainly not the expectations of high society, where women like her were supposed to sit pretty, smile, and obey.
Tonight, Anastasia would take her place.
Sliding into the sleek car, Caroline pulled out her phone and typed a message with the kind of casual confidence that came from knowing she always got what she wanted.
Caroline: Everything is still on. You know what to do.
She barely had time to blink before Anastasia's response came through.
Anastasia: Obviously. When have I ever let you down?
Caroline smirked, tossing her phone onto the leather seat beside her as the driver pulled away from the Laurent estate. The lights of Manhattan blurred past the tinted windows, but her thoughts were sharp—cutthroat, even.
This was going to be a disaster.
Which meant it was going to be perfect
She just prayed that Anastasia would be able to pull it off .
----.
The Laurent Estate
Anastasia stepped out of the town car with the languid grace of someone born into privilege but entirely unimpressed by it. She and Juliette had barely made it up the grand steps of their family's estate before an all-too-familiar voice rang out.
"Ah, my troublesome granddaughters have returned at last!"
Hugo Laurent, the ever-dramatic patriarch, stood at the top of the staircase, dressed in an immaculately tailored black coat with gold embroidery. His signature cane—more of a fashion statement than a necessity—rested against his side as he adjusted his leather gloves.
Juliette crossed her arms, smirking. "Let me guess. You're off to drink with your old friends again?"
Hugo gasped as if she'd accused him of something heinous. "Old? Juliette, my dear, I'll have you know that we are men of prestige, of intellect—"
"—of excessive wine consumption," Anastasia finished, deadpan.
Hugo narrowed his eyes at her. "Your mother has failed you both."
Anastasia shrugged. "On the contrary, she's long since given up on us entirely."
Hugo exhaled dramatically, shaking his head as he descended the steps. "I must take my leave before your relentless wit ages me further. Try not to ruin the Laurent name while I'm gone."
Anastasia flashed him an angelic smile. "No promises, Grand-père!"
His driver opened the car door, and Hugo slid inside, waving dismissively as they pulled away into the night.
Juliette turned to Anastasia with an amused sigh. "We really should let him think he's still intimidating."
Anastasia smirked. "Why would we do that when it's so much more fun this way?"
---
By the time Anastasia made it upstairs, she was already thinking ten steps ahead.
She kicked off her heels the moment she entered her bedroom, making a beeline for her walk-in closet. The shopping bags from yesterday sat neatly in the corner, each containing carefully chosen weapons of deception.
Pulling out the sleek, form-fitting black dress with a slit, she smirked ready to have some fun with this plan .
Caroline had good taste—which was exactly why tomorrow would be so much fun.
She tossed the dress onto her bed, reaching for her phone.
Anastasia: Tell me again why I agreed to this?
Caroline: Because you love me and you enjoy chaos my ride or die.
Anastasia: Debatable.
Caroline: You thrive in it, stassi . Now get over here.
Rolling her eyes, Anastasia grabbed a few essentials, zipped up her overnight bag, and slung it over her shoulder before heading back downstairs.
Juliette, now curled up with a book on the velvet couch, barely glanced up. "Going somewhere?"
"Caroline's penthouse." Anastasia twirled her car keys around her fingers. "She needs me."
Juliette smirked knowingly. "Try not to cause too much chaos."
Anastasia blew her a kiss as she strolled toward the door. "No guarantees."
With that, she stepped outside, slid into her black Lamborghini, and tore off into the night.
---
By the time Anastasia pulled up to Caroline's high-rise building, the city had quieted, leaving only the hum of neon lights and the occasional honk of a passing cab.
The penthouse was just as she remembered—grand, sleek, and unapologetically extravagant.
As soon as the elevator doors slid open, a wave of familiarity hit her.
Marble floors. Towering windows. The scent of expensive perfume that was distinctly Caroline.
And, of course, Caroline herself.
Standing by the bar, swirling a glass of wine, Caroline turned at the sound of Anastasia's arrival. Her signature smirk played at her lips. "still dramatic, I see."
Anastasia strutted inside, tossing her bag onto the couch. "I'd say the same about you."
Caroline chuckled, setting her glass down. "Come in. We have a date to ruin ."
Anastasia raised a brow. "So, do I throw a drink in his face, or just be my usual self?"
Caroline tapped her chin, mock-considering. "Oh, just be yourself. That should do the trick."
Anastasia rolled her eyes. "You know, for someone plotting a date sabotage, you seem awfully calm."
Caroline picked up her glass again, mischief glinting in her eyes. "I trust your unbearable character."
Anastasia crossed her arms. "Fine. Let's go over this again. What's the game plan?"
For the next hour, they meticulously crafted the perfect social disaster.
Anastasia would show up late. Talk too much. Complain about the wine. Pretend to be insufferably picky. Maybe even mention her extensive criminal record that didn't actually exist.
A date so catastrophic that it would ensure Caroline's father never forced her into one again.
The plan was flawless.
At least, that's what Anastasia thought.
What she didn't know—what Caroline hadn't told her—was that the date wasn't Theodore Belmont.
The switch had already been made.
And the man Anastasia was about to torment?
Was far more dangerous than either of them realized.
Caroline sipped her wine, keeping her secret buried beneath a nervous smirk.
Anastasia would have to pull this off some way somehow for her .