CAMPBELLS VS. THORNTONS

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the girl staring back at me. My staff flitted around like clockwork—one adjusting my hair, another smoothing out the fabric of my gown, while a third meticulously applied makeup. The dress they'd chosen was stunning, deep blue and elegant, hugging my figure just right. But despite the beauty of the moment, a knot twisted deep in my stomach. The Thorntons were joining the party, and their presence alone was enough to send a chill through me.

"Can you believe this?" I muttered, glancing at Cindy who sat nearby, fiddling with her own dress. "The Thorntons, here... at my party."

She sighed, clearly trying to lighten the mood. "Well, look at it this way—if they ruin the night, at least we'll have a good excuse to kick them out."

I let out a small laugh, though it didn't ease my nerves. "You make it sound so easy."

She leaned forward, her voice dropping. "It is easy. They don't belong here. And honestly, you've got nothing to worry about. This is your night."

I nodded, but my stomach still churned. There was something about the Thorntons that unnerved me—especially Trent. His sarcastic remarks, that smug grin... I couldn't put my finger on it, but his presence had always felt too close, too dangerous.

Just as I was about to say something, the door creaked open, and Tiffany Thornton waltzed in, her grand entrance impossible to ignore. She was wearing a gown so massive and over-the-top, it seemed to take up half the room. Her hair was swept up elegantly, though I noticed the way she kept glancing at herself in the mirror as if checking for imperfections.

"Do you mind if I get a little touch-up?" she asked, popping her gum in that casual way only she could pull off. "I swear, the humidity outside is doing a number on my hair."

Cindy's mouth dropped open, and I could feel my own eyes widen as I exchanged a glance with her. Tiffany, oblivious to our reactions, strode over to one of my staff, already gesturing at her hair with that perfect blend of casual elegance and entitlement.

Before I could respond, movement near the door caught my eye. Trent was leaning against the frame, his arms crossed and a smirk already forming on his lips. "Well, well. Looks like the birthday girl's got a whole entourage. What's the occasion again?" His voice was thick with sarcasm.

I shot him a glare, my heart skipping a beat. "Very funny, Trent. Shouldn't you be helping your sister instead of standing there making useless comments?"

He shrugged lazily, that smug grin never leaving his face. "Oh, she can handle herself. Just figured I'd check in, see if the Campbells are still as tense as ever."

For a moment, our eyes locked, and the room seemed to still around us. The noise of the staff, the soft rustle of dresses, even Cindy's bemused stare—all of it faded into the background. His gaze was intense, and I could see it—he was as caught as I was. The sarcasm melted from his expression, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. He wasn't just looking at me; he was seeing me. And in that moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of us.

His dark eyes held mine, and I could feel the connection between us tighten like an invisible string pulling us together. The swirl of emotions—resentment, curiosity, and something more—danced between us, and for a heartbeat, I wondered if he felt it too.

Then he broke the silence.

"Something wrong, Cristine?" Trent asked, his voice low, almost teasing. "You look... distracted."