One Cruel Prank Too Far Chapter 2

The night was pitch black.

I pulled my coat tight, keeping my head down as I walked toward the curb. The whispers of the departing audience felt like needles in my ears.

“Look, that’s the girl from the livestream.”

“Beautiful, but clearly a gold-digger. Glad he caught on before the ring.”

Nobody would believe that Caden was the one who pursued me. During our grad studies in London, I was the one who preferred being alone. He was the one who seemed to be everywhere—the library, the cafe, the path to my morning lectures.

The fifth time we "ran into each other," he’d held out his hand, his eyes crinkling with a charm that felt like sunshine.

“I’m Caden Sterling,” he’d said. “And I think we’re destined to be more than just strangers.”

From then on, the seat next to me was always reserved for him. When it rained and I forgot my umbrella, Caden would appear, thrusting his into my hands and running home in the downpour. He stayed sick with a fever for two weeks because of it.

When I practiced in the music hall, he would sit in the back, listening for hours. He’d say, “Miranda, I could never get tired of your music.”

On April Fool’s Day back then, he had waited outside my dorm. He stood under a streetlamp, looking at me with such intensity it made my heart skip. “I love you,” he said.

I had tried to be playful, to protect myself. “Happy April Fool’s?”

Caden didn't laugh. He stepped forward and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. “Miranda,” he whispered. “I would never lie to you.”

When did those vows become punchlines?

When we moved back, Callie invaded our world, and I wasn't allowed to complain. At a New Year’s party, she demanded I play for the guests like I was hired entertainment. When I finished, she pulled a wad of cash from her purse and tossed it at my feet.

“Bravo! A tip for the talent!”

The room erupted in snickering. Caden didn't flinch. He just held a tipsy Callie steady and looked at me. “She’s had too much to drink. Don't be sensitive.”

Last year, for Callie’s birthday, Caden bought her a luxury SUV and paid for a 24-hour digital billboard in Times Square that read Happy Birthday, Callie.

The next day was my birthday. Caden showed up hungover and handed me a used Starbucks gift card he’d found in his car.

I’d cried. I’d asked him why.

By the end of the argument, it turned out to be another "test." Caden wasn't even drunk; his eyes were clear and piercing as he asked, “Do you love me, or do you love the things I can buy you?”

The rain began to fall harder now, mixing with the tears streaming down my face. I had never done anything to betray him. Yet I was the one constantly on trial.

I flagged a taxi, my hands shaking as I checked my phone.

A news notification popped up. A photo of me frantically ripping the sign off my back had been enlarged and centered. The headline was a joke about "The Lapdog Who Didn't Get the Bone."

The comments were a cesspool. She deserved it. Pushing for a mansion she didn't earn.

I tried to lock my phone, but my fingers wouldn't obey. Suddenly, a boom echoed through the night sky.

Fireworks.

They went on for ten minutes. Then, a thousand drones rose into the air, forming the shape of a massive diamond ring being slipped onto a finger.

Callie, Marry Me.

The taxi driver rolled down his window. “Man, look at that. Some rich kid must be proposing. That Callie girl is one lucky woman.”

On Instagram, Callie had posted a picture of the sky. Some people don’t know how to appreciate what they have. Sometimes you just have to take what’s yours.

My phone buzzed again. A voice note from Caden.

“You seeing this?” There was a pause. “The team already had everything set up, and it seemed like a waste to cancel. I just had them change the name on the drones. Don't read too much into it.”

I stared at the screen for a long time. Then, I typed back:

It’s beautiful. I hope you both get exactly what you deserve.