The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 68

I dropped my hand from his arm like it had suddenly offended me. “Are you serious right now?” I hissed, tilting toward him with a sugar-sweet smile that didn’t reach anywhere near my eyes. “You’re clapping for her?”

Callum blinked, still watching the stage. “I clap for everyone. I’m student council president.”

“Oh,” I said with a gasp, pressing a hand to my chest. “How noble of you. Next, you’ll be sending her flowers and a thank-you card for gracing us with her underwhelming presence.”

He cut his eyes toward me, unamused. “Bianca.”

“No, really,” I said, voice dripping like poisoned honey. “I just think it’s fascinating how the second she walks into a room, you forget who you’re standing next to. Who you’ve been standing next to all night. The one who actually belongs in this world.”

Callum exhaled slowly, jaw tight. “Bianca, please. We’re in public.”

I scoffed. “Excuse me for noticing when my date starts salivating over a stitched-up science project in a party dress.”

“I wasn’t—” he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m clapping. That’s all. It was an impressive score.”

“And I suppose if I had walked in late with some homey dress and that ‘save me from my tragic past’ face, you would’ve thrown your at me like you do her?”

His mouth twitched, almost like he was trying not to say something. Something real. But instead, he just said, “You’re being unfair.”

I gave a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Unfair? Darling, I let you dance with me tonight. I let you hold my hand in public. And now you’re ogling a girl who isn’t bethrothed to you.”

He didn’t respond.

Which only made it worse.

I crossed my arms. “Fine. Clap all you want. Maybe after her big moment, she’ll finally disappear and leave the rest of us to our spotlight.”

Callum finally turned to me fully, cool and unreadable. “Bianca, relax. I’m her with you. You’re the one I’m with, she’s not even a factor between us.”

I leaned in, whispering sharply, “Then maybe you should start acting like you’re mine before someone else does. Before I make that second call to your parents.”

Callum’s eyes flashed but he didn’t say a word back.

Around us, people started whispering, someone mentioned how Liora didn’t have a dance partner, how gifted she must be to come from nothing. Jessica threw in some smug comment like, “Well, maybe brains are all she’s got,” and laughed her shrill little dolphin laugh.

But I couldn’t laugh.

I couldn’t move. This was supposed to be my moment. My night.

And it was unraveling right in front of me like a bad hemline.

I shoved Jessica’s shoulder. “Move.”

“I’m prettier,” I muttered, adjusting the rose-shaped brooch pinned to my waist. “I’m powerful. I’m the one who’s meant to stand beside him. Everyone knows it. He knows it. His parents know it. It’s tradition.”

But the words rang hollow.

Like they used to be true… and someone rewrote the rules without asking.

I reapplied my lipstick, cherry glass, and fluffed my curls. Pulled up the bodice of my gown and re-glittered my collarbone like I was going to war. Because I was.

“I won’t let this night end like this,” I said to the bathroom light. “She doesn’t win. Not this.”

I took one last look at myself. Polished. Poised. Dangerous.

Callum was still out there.

The night wasn’t over.

And the announcement? The real one—the one that mattered?

That was still mine to make.