Now, after his whirlwind marriage to Ivy, he’d become the picture of patience and consideration–even going so far as to sit with her through an entire salon appointment.

Emma couldn’t tear her eyes away from the two of them. She thought back on her own morning–how she’d pleaded with Sheridan to come with her. He’d brushed her off, calling her childish.

In the end, she’d had no choice but to bring her mother along for company.

The contrast was almost painful. The sting of envy flared up in Emma’s heart once again.

Why?

Why did Ivy always seem to land on her feet?

Emma schemed and calculated at every turn, yet somehow, she always ended up with nothing.

An awkward silence hung over the salon until the receptionist approached Emma with a polite smile. “Miss Windsor, Mr. Hickey’s schedule is packed today. He won’t be available until one o’clock. If you’re willing to work with a different stylist, we can get you started now.”

Mr. Hickey…

Ivy immediately understood.

So Emma was here for hair and makeup.

This salon boasted the top styling team in all of Neo Haven–a favorite among celebrities looking for a signature look.

And Mr. Hickey? He was the go–to makeup artist for the biggest stars in the business. Rumor had it, he could turn an average face into something extraordinary; his transformations were nearly legendary.

Clearly, Emma wanted her makeup done by the famed Mr. Hickey, hoping to outshine everyone at her own engagement party.

Ivy put on a sympathetic face, though her words dripped with mock concern. “Honestly, I can’t believe Mr. Carter couldn’t spring for a private styling session. Shouldn’t your fiancé have the whole team come to your home or the hotel? Making you come all the way here seems a bit much.”

Emma bristled, her pride wounded. “Shows what you know! Mr. Hickey isn’t someone you can just throw money at. Even you would have to wait your turn here.”

The truth was, the Windsor family’s glory days were long gone–they didn’t have the clout to command someone like Mr. Hickey. The Carter family might, but Sheridan couldn’t care less; to him, any old stylist would do. Makeup was makeup.

Emma swallowed her frustration, trying to keep up appearances.

Ivy’s smile was sweet and unhurried. “Well, I don’t need to worry about that. Even without a scrap of makeup, I look ten times better than some people do with a full face.”

“You-!” Emma’s face turned red with anger. She glared, fists clenched.

Rosetta hurried to smooth things over. “Alright, that’s enough. It’s a special day–let’s not turn it ugly. Ivy, you’ve married well, and Mr. Jamison treats you like a queen, but there’s no need to rub it in. Emma’s lucky to have found Mr. Carter.”

Ivy just shrugged, unbothered. “Lucky? Please. All it took was a night in bed. Honestly, Emma, you should be thanking me. If it weren’t for my husband and me, you never would’ve met Mr. Carter.”

Emma snorted. “Spare me. My fiancé and I are fated–destiny brought us together. Even if you two had never existed, we still would’ve found each other. Fate always finds a way.”

She didn’t even bother to pretend anymore; her hostility toward Ivy was plain as day–even in front of Rosetta.

Jamison, who’d been quietly supporting Ivy from the sidelines, finally spoke up, unable to hold back.

“Is that so, Miss Windsor? How about we put that destiny to the test? I could call Sheridan right now, introduce him to another heiress, and see just how unbreakable your ‘fate‘ really is.”