The Rejected True Heiress (Liora and Callum) novel Chapter 136

Liora’s POV

My smirk faded the moment my father said those words.

“Liora Belrose… Perhaps you would like to dance with young Callum.”

“What?” I hissed through the mindlink. “I’m not—”

“Humor me, Liora. It’s the least you can do if you really want to stay here. Besides, you’ve had nearly two decades of dance lessons; this is your chance to prove that you were once Callum’s match.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not his match anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter,” my father replied with a mental chortle. “Once you reveal your identity, moments like this will add up to improve your reputation.”

I grit my teeth together and glared at him, willing him to back down. But my stubbornness came from my father, after all; one of us would have to give up, and it definitely wouldn’t be him.

Not when he’d already made his mind up to humiliate Bianca, the imposter, in the worst way possible tonight. And especially not when everyone was looking, wondering why we were staring at each other like that,. I was left with no choice.

My chair scraped loudly against the floor as I pushed it back and stood. All eyes were on me now. I could feel the malicious stares. Could hear the crude whispers. Could sense their anger and indignation radiating toward me like a dark cloud.

With each step I took closer to Callum, who was still standing in the middle of the dance floor with a shocked look on his face, the whispers grew louder and more hateful.

“Boo!” someone shouted, creating a wave of echoed sentiments. Half the crowd began to boo me, with Bianca’s friends being the loudest.

The crowd murmured as the emerald fabric caught the light, but the sounds were lost beneath the swell of the music. For a moment, as I spun back toward Callum and pressed my hands to his chest, I thought I caught him cracking the faintest smile.

And for a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder at the handsome set of his jaw, the tousle of his dark hair, the softness of his piercing eyes.

But it was gone just as quickly as it had come. His mask slammed back into place like he’d practiced it; a bitter reminder of what he was truly like.

“You lied to the principal,” I whispered as we swayed through the final portion of the dance. “You told him that I planted the vial. You’re helping them frame me, aren’t you?”

Callum’s hand tightened infinitesimally on my waist, fingers digging into my spine through the green silk. He didn’t answer right away. The music crescendoed, and he spun me one last time before ending the dance with a dramatic dip that made my chest tighten.