One Cruel Prank Too Far Chapter 1

The moment the stage lights cut to black, the silence was shattered by a wave of jagged, mocking laughter from the audience.

A cold shiver raced down the back of my neck. My fingers instinctively reached behind me, brushing against the rough, adhesive edge of a piece of paper stuck to my tuxedo jacket.

“Caden’s Dedicated Lapdog.”

Those four words felt like a brand seared into my skin, sending a sickening heat straight down my spine.

The livestream cameras were still rolling, broadcasting to thousands. Natalie—or rather, the girl I had been for the last six years—was being dismantled in real-time. Finally, Caden pushed aside Callie’s hand, which was looped smugly through his arm, and grabbed my jacket. He threw it over my shoulders, effectively shielding the sign, and practically dragged me toward the wings.

Callie’s laughter bled through the heavy backstage doors, sharp as broken glass. “Did you see his face?” she wheezed. “Like a stray dog that just realized it’s been kicked into a gutter.”

I turned, my fists trembling so hard I thought my bones might snap. Tears blurred my vision, turning the backstage lights into distorted halos. “You promised,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You said tonight was the night. The proposal... the livestream... everyone was watching.”

“It’s April Fool’s, babe,” Callie said, rolling her eyes as she strolled in behind us. “God, can’t the future Mrs. Sterling take a joke?”

She bumped her shoulder against Caden’s, her tone dripping with mock concern. “See? He’s already snapping at you over a little bit of pride. Is this really the kind of guy you want to spend your life with?”

Caden looked down, slowly closing a velvet ring box I hadn't even realized he was holding. His voice was as light as a falling feather, devoid of any weight. “Callie’s right. About the proposal... let’s just revisit it next year.”

It felt like a giant hand had reached into my chest and squeezed my heart until it bruised. All those years of devotion, of being his shadow, suddenly felt like a punchline I was too stupid to understand.

I released my bitten lip and slowly shook my head. The breath I let out tasted like rust—the bitter tang of old blood.

“Don’t bother with next year,” I said, the words surprisingly steady.

“There isn’t going to be a wedding.”

* * *

The words had barely left my mouth before Caden’s brows lowered, a dismissive smirk tugging at his lips.

“Over an April Fool’s joke? Really?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me for a long time, as if waiting for me to cave first. Finally, he sighed, the sound of a man burdened by a difficult child. He reached out, his thumb catching a tear at the corner of my eye.

“Miranda, it was just a prank. Callie bet me that even if I were about to propose, you’d still find a way to throw a tantrum over a little fun.”

He tilted his head toward the stage, his tone casual. “Look, I had the whole thing set up.”

I followed his gaze. Through the gap in the curtains, I could see it: the champagne tower, the wall of white roses, the clusters of plush bears arranged in a massive heart. Sitting on a white Steinway was a delicate, lace veil—the exact one I had pointed out in a magazine three years ago.

It was everything he had ever promised.

Callie snorted. “It wasn’t just the decor. There’s a firework show scheduled, a drone display... but I guess that’s all going to waste now. Tens of thousands in deposits, down the drain.”

Caden stepped into my line of sight, blocking her out. “Don’t blame Callie. If you’re mad, be mad at me.”

Right. Don’t blame her.

Blame me.

Blame me for being humiliated during my first public performance in years. Blame me for being labeled an “obsessed social climber” on every social media feed in the country. My name was now synonymous with pathetic.

The proposal was being postponed because I couldn't manage to smile and say, “It’s okay.”

But why should it be? Why did he have to crush my dignity into the dirt just to see if I’d still say "I do"?

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and looked away. I pulled what was left of my pride around me like a shroud.

“Caden, we’re done.”

His face darkened instantly. He opened his mouth to snap back, but Callie beat him to it.

“Seriously, Miranda? The 'desperate-to-marry' act is getting old.” She flicked her hair, her eyes scanning me with pure disdain. “Caden and I grew up together. I know exactly how he works. This 'playing hard to get' move to pressure him into a ring might fool him, but it doesn't work on me.”

There it was again. The "joke" that served as a knife, always carving me into the villain.

I remembered the first time I met his parents after we moved back to the States. Callie had been there, playing the helpful "sister" figure, before casually dropping a bomb over dinner.

“Miranda’s got such a great eye, doesn't she?” she’d said with a sweet smile. “Most people wouldn't even know Caden was the heir to the Sterling fortune while he was studying abroad. It’s such a coincidence... didn’t I hear your family’s firm was struggling with debt recently?”

The atmosphere had chilled instantly. Caden’s smile had vanished. He’d looked at me, his eyes searching, and asked, “Is that true?”

No matter how much I explained that I’d had no idea who the Sterlings were when we met in that rainy London library, the seed was planted. Caden just nodded, but the warmth never quite returned to his gaze.

The next day, Callie became a permanent fixture in our "private" world. She was there to "vet" me for her best friend. Over and over, she made a fool of me, and over and over, the wedding date was pushed back.

Caden wouldn't understand. Love has an expiration date when it’s fed nothing but doubt. I was exhausted.

I pulled my arm out of his grip and turned toward the exit.

“Miranda!”

I stopped out of habit. Caden grabbed my wrist, a flicker of genuine panic crossing his features. “Don’t…”

“Let him go,” Callie interrupted. “He’s just doing this for effect. He wants you to chase him. If you keep spoiling him like this, Caden, he’ll never learn how to be a proper Sterling wife. Give him a few days to cool off. He’ll be back.”

I felt the pressure on my wrist slacken. Inch by inch, his grip loosened. Caden’s expression shifted, turning cold and guarded.

He let go.

“Fine,” he said. “Whatever you want.”