Carter just threw in the towel. He''d stopped hoping Andrew could ever measure up to Justin.


    He set down the feather duster and shot Andrew a re. "Go to your room. You''ve got an early morning tomorrow."


    Tomorrow was Mr. Wisman''s birthday bash. Everyone hade a day early— otherwise, they''d never make it in time.


    Andrew didn''t argue. He knew when to quit. Turning to Justin, he said, "Alright, I''m done. Go home, Mr. Cool. See you tomorrow."


    Justin needed to head back to the Wisman estate anyway—he had a busy day ahead and wasn''t about to hang around.


    On his way back, Justin couldn''t shake the image of Carter scolding Andrew. Those two were more like brothers than father and son-a bond most people could only dream of.


    The next day.


    Mr. Wisman''s birthday party was in full swing at a swanky hotel.


    The ballroom, big enough for a thousand guests, was already packed.


    Andrew showed up in a sharp suit. As long as he kept his mouth shut, he actually looked like some kind of young prince. But as soon as he started talking, his streetwise side came out.


    Paradise glided in wearing a dress that shimmered with every step, her hair flowing down her back-she looked like she''d stepped out of a fairy tale.


    “Paradise, you actually look really pretty in a dress," Andrew said, smoothing his own jacket with a grin. "So, do I look handsome today, or what?”


    Paradise nced him up and down. "Not bad," she said, just cool enough to keep him guessing.


    Andrew''s gaze drifted across the room, where Justin and Jonah were busy greeting the guests.


    "That poor guy," Andrew muttered. "How can someo man?"


    young act like such an old


    So young, but already carrying himself like someone twice his age.


    "That''s called being mature,” Paradise replied.


    There was something about Justin that reminded her of Herman-dependable, thoughtful, and with that effortless elegance.


    Anastasia stayed close to Herman, making small talk with the big shots in the room.


    The party was the talk of the town-streamed live for everyone to see, even folks on the other side of the country.


    Meanwhile, at the Stranz family home.


    Layna sat in the living room, glued to the TV, watching every moment of the Wisman family''svish celebration.


    The cameras barely left Justin and Mr. Wisman all night.


    Mr. Wisman was the man of the hour, but Justin-he was the future, the one everyone had their eye on.


    Now and then, the shot would cut to Herman and his wife. Layna caught Paradise


    on screen, and jealousy burned in her chest.


    To everyone else, Justin fussing over Paradise was just


    sweet-making sure she ate, even picking out desserts for her himself. A golden boy looking after the beloved Salstrom daughter a few years younger like a caring big brother. Nothing strange about that.


    But to Layna, it felt like Paradise was stealing Justin right out from under her nose.


    "Miss Layna, I''m heading out to buy groceries. Want me to bring anything back?” the housekeeper called softly.


    "No," Layna snapped, barely ncing up. She never bothered to be nice to the staff.


    The housekeeper left, and the rest of the help busied themselves around the house. Juliana was still upstairs, lost in sleep.


    Juliana never rolled out of bed before eleven. It was almost that time now.


    The house was quiet-almost too quiet.


    Dark thoughts swirled in Layna''s mind. This was her moment.


    Who told her uncle to keep her from going to the city? Who told her aunt to spoil her own kids and ignore her?


    Jealousy coiled tighter in her chest, hot and bitter.


    Slipping into the kitchen, Layna grabbed a bottle of peanut oil, poured some onto a rag, and checking that the coast was clear,


    carefully wiped it over the first three steps of the staircase.


    The stairs were slick now-dangerously so.


    Once she finished, Layna slipped out to the yard and stood by the window, keeping the staircase in perfect view.


    At eleven, Juliana finally woke up, shuffling downstairs in her pajamas and slippers.


    “Layna, Layna.......”


    Layna heard her name, but didn''t answer. She just watched the staircase, eyes sharp and cold.


    Juliana appeared at the top of the stairs, unaware of anything amiss.


    She stepped onto the first stair-her foot shot out from under her. With a shriek, she grabbed for the railing.


    But momentum took over. Her foot


    slid again on the next step,


    her ankle off bnce, ting


    ana


    tumbled down the stairs, helpless...