Elise rose from her bed, her head throbbing with the remnants of last night's indulgence. Her eyes fell upon a glass of golden liquid resting on her nightstand. A small note was tucked beneath it.

She picked it up, her fingers tracing the sharp, familiar script. It was the same handwriting from the banquet invitation.

[Honey for the hangover. Eat breakfast when you wake up. An empty stomach after vomiting isn't good for you. P.S.: Business trip. Back in Crestwood in a week.]

She lifted the glass, the cool sweetness of the honey spreading through her, a soothing balm. A strange, fluttering sensation bloomed in her chest. Why had William been so insistent on driving her home last night? Was it because he was leaving, and they wouldn't see each other for a while?

Placing the glass down, she moved to the bathroom. She peeled off the stained gown, the memory of the previous evening clinging to it. After a long, hot shower, she tossed the garment into the trash. It was a freebie, no great loss.

Returning to the living room, exhaustion washed over her. The hangover demanded she lie down on the couch. But William's note echoed in her mind… an empty stomach…

She pushed herself up and headed to the kitchen. Just as she was about to prepare a simple meal, her phone vibrated on the counter. She glanced at the screen. Samuel. Her thumb moved to decline the call without a second thought.

She focused on making breakfast, the simple motions calming. Sitting at the table with her food, she scrolled through news feeds. Notifications from WhatsApp popped up. Samuel. Again. Multiple messages.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. Against her better judgment, she tapped the notification.

Photos filled the screen. William, his grip firm on Elizabeth York's arm. Elizabeth's face was a mask of annoyance, yet she wasn't pulling away. The dynamic between them was clearly complicated.

Another message arrived.

[Stop dreaming, Elise. William Levine will never be faithful to you. You're just a plaything to him, a pretty distraction. A man like that has countless women. You're just one of many.]

She remembered James saying his daddy liked Elizabeth.

Elise took a slow bite of her toast. Her fingers moved calmly over the screen.

[We're both adults, Samuel. Who's to say who's really playing whom?]

With that, she blocked his number.

At Mitchell Manor, Samuel had been awake for hours, anxiously scanning the news. Relief washed over him. There was nothing about Henry Levine's birthday, his own public humiliation, or any exclusive scoop on William and Elise. The Levines had clearly managed the media blackout.

But the relief was short-lived. The memory of the banquet, the utter degradation, surged back. He, Samuel Mitchell, accustomed to admiration and envy… How could he ever show his face again?

Clenching his jaw, he had sent those photos to Elise. If he was suffering, she would suffer too.

Her reply made his blood run cold, then boil. He typed out a furious, mocking response, his fingers flying across the screen.

A notification appeared instantly.

[Message failed to send. The recipient has blocked you.]

He nearly hurled his phone across the room. She blocked him?!

"Samuel." His father, Richard Mitchell, descended the stairs.

Samuel quickly composed himself.

"Our family was disgraced last night," Richard said, his voice heavy. "Your sister has been crying nonstop since she got home."

Samuel's family had left the banquet earlier than he had. He had been hiding in the shadows of the venue's garden, so he had missed the scene where William stood up for Elise and turned his intimidating attention toward Amanda.