The Lead’s Puppets Are Mine

For as long as I could remember, the four heirs of New Yorks most prominent dynasties had treated me as their most fiercely guarded possession.

But the night a fresh-faced, lively girl stepped into the ballroom, the air in my world fractured. Suddenly, glowing lines of text began scrolling across my field of vision like a neon ticker tape:

[The darling female lead and the male leads have finally met! Throwing confetti!]

[They cant help but be drawn to her. Theyre finally learning what true love is. Watch them distance themselves from the side-character!]

[The jealous best friend is going to hurt our precious girl, and the boys are going to destroy her family for it!]

At first, I scoffed at the bizarre, floating hallucinations.

That was until they all skipped my birthday gala, abandoning me just to take that girl to see the fireworks.

Only then did it hit me: the boys who had clung to my side since childhood were truly gone.

Fine. It was about time I found a real boyfriend anyway.

The ballroom was suffocatingly opulent, the air thick with the scent of expensive orchids and old money. Tristan Vanderbilt pressed his hand over my eyes, his chest warm against my back, deliberately blocking my view of the older, sophisticated Harrington heir across the room.

I sighed, prying his heavy fingers away, only to have a small mother-of-pearl spoon pressed to my lips. Beluga caviar.

Kieran Astor held the spoon, his dark eyes shimmering with pure, puppy-dog expectation. "Good?"

It was rich, melting instantly on my tongue. I nodded.

"Have another bite, Caro." He tipped another spoonful toward me.

Before I could swallow, Nathaniel Montgomery had already produced a pristine, monogrammed linen handkerchief, leaning in to dab at the corner of my mouth.

I took the handkerchief from his elegant fingers, offering a faint, tolerant smile as I wiped my own mouth.

"Dance with me next, Caro," Kieran whined, tugging at the silk of my gown like a neglected child.

"For God's sake, Kieran, crying gets you nowhere. You're suffocating her." Tristan slapped Kierans hand away with a scowl, pulling me closer by the waist, staring down at me with those intense, hungry eyes.

"Enough, both of you. Youre wrinkling her dress."

Harrison Dupontthe steady, authoritative anchor of our chaotic quintetstepped in. He crouched smoothly, his broad shoulders shifting under his tailored tuxedo as he adjusted the hem of my gown. Beside him, Nathaniel gently tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my ear, restoring my composure to picture-perfect elegance.

The rest of the elite guests in the room barely batted an eye. The sight of these four untouchable scions revolving around me like planets around a sun was an old, tired Manhattan legend.

Then, she walked in.

There were dozens of stunning women at this gala, draped in couture and diamonds. She was in a simple evening gown, looking around with wide, curious eyes. She shouldn't have commanded the room.

But as her gaze swept toward our corner, the atmosphere shifted. The air grew heavy.

Slowly, as if pulled by an invisible, gravitational force, the four men beside me turned their heads.

They froze. It was as if time had stopped, their eyes locked onto her, entirely unblinking.

That was when the glowing text began scrolling frantically before my eyes:

[Ahhhh! The female lead and the male leads have met! Love! Heart emojis!]

[The boys are totally captivated! Is this the magic of love at first sight?]

[The childhood friend must be so dumbfounded! From now on, they belong to the female lead. No ones going to revolve around her anymore!]

[When the wicked friend gets jealous and tries to hurt our baby, she's finished! The boys will make her die a miserable death, haha!]

I didn't need a dictionary to know the "wicked friend" was me.

I didn't care about the psychotic floating words, but the physical reaction of the men beside me made my stomach drop. A cold, sharp hollow opened in my chest.

The girl stared right back at them. She didn't look intimidated. She didn't look at me and shrink back in self-doubt or envy, the way other girls usually did when they saw the fortress these men built around me.

Instead, she offered them a bright, unabashed smile. A silent, magnetic greeting.

Beside me, the men shifted their weight. One by one, they stepped away from me, moving toward her. They didn't even glance back.

This had never happened. Never.

They were ignoring me. They were walking toward someone else.

Was this the "magic of love at first sight" the text had screamed about?

I was witnessing it firsthand.

The heirs of New York's four ruling families possessed notoriously short tempers with everyoneexcept me, Caroline Sinclair. A single furrow of their brows was usually enough to send people scrambling away in terror.

Now, they stood in a semi-circle around this strange girl, laughing. Conversing.

She smiled like a blooming flower; their eyes burned with an intense, heated focus.

Murmurs rippled through the ballroom. People were staring, their eyes darting between the picturesque group and where I stood, suddenly, glaringly alone.

The girl began walking toward me. The four men flanked her like devoted bodyguards.

She extended a hand, her posture dripping with a casual, terrifying confidence. "Hi. I'm Maddie. Maddie Foster."

I met her grip. "Caroline Sinclair."

"I saw them standing with you earlier," she said, her smile utterly flawless. "I didn't want you to feel left out because of me, so I thought I'd come say hi."

I gave a polite, measured smile. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Maddie, you still haven't picked which one of us gets to drive you home tonight," Tristan murmured, the corner of his mouth curving in a way that used to be reserved only for me.

"Come on, let's get you something to eat while you decide. You can't starve." Kieran gently guided her by the elbow toward the sprawling buffet. Harrison and Nathaniel followed without a moment's hesitation.

A tidal wave of unfamiliar sensations washed over mehumiliation, confusion, and a bizarre, quiet grief.

Whispers drifted from the champagne tables:

"My God, did the Sinclair girl just get benched?"

"The tectonic plates are shifting. Who is that girl?"

The neon text danced in my vision:

[Ugh, our girls charm is unmatched! She just stood there and completely defeated the side-character!]

[This is the kind of pampered, center-of-attention trope I love! No angst for the female lead! The boys just spoil her!]

[Exactly! Spoil the lead, torture the side-chick! Sweet and satisfying!]

Meeting the barrage of sympathetic and calculating stares from the crowd, I calmly took a sip of my champagne.

[Look at her acting so calm, she must be dying of rage inside! Haha!]

[Oh, don't worry, there's plenty of days like this ahead. Once she overestimates herself and tries to fight for the men, they'll ruin her family and she'll finally learn her place!]

...Did I really look like the kind of person who would resort to something so pathetic?

Across the room, they seemed to have reached a verdict. Under the collective, breathless gaze of Manhattan's elite, the four of them escorted Maddie Foster out of the ballroom.

I went home alone.

Late that night, the buzzer to my penthouse rang.

I checked the monitor and unlocked the elevator.

Tristan, who owned the penthouse across the street, stepped in. He held out a bundle of silk. "You left your wrap in my car. Brought it over."

"Thank you." I took it from his hands.

It was a wrap he had playfully hidden from me days ago, demanding I stay longer if I wanted it back. Now, he was voluntarily returning it.

"What happened to your arm?" he asked suddenly.

I glanced down at the small bandage near my elbow. "I must have scraped it on something."

He gave a curt nod. "Be careful then. I'm taking off."

He turned and walked back to the elevator. Just like that.

In the past, a paper cut would have drained the color from his face. He would have dragged me to the sink, sterilized it himself, and fretted over it for an hour.

Now, he couldn't care less.

A bitter, dry laugh escaped my lips as the doors slid shut. I suppose I really needed to get used to this new reality.

[Haha, the boys are drawing boundaries!]

[The side-chick doesn't even know how panicked they were earlier when our girl almost tripped!]

Half a month bled by. I didn't see a single one of them.

The socialites in my circle were all too eager to feed me the gossip, and the floating ticker tape filled in the agonizing details.

Where they took Maddie. How fiercely they competed for her attention.

Exactly how they used to be with me.

Maddie stubbed her toe, and they practically called in a medevac. They guarded her like she was the rarest diamond on earth.

The rumor mill was brutal: The four princes of New York have discarded the Sinclair heiress for a middle-class Cinderella.

Treasured. Worshipped.

Caroline Sinclair was officially yesterday's news.

Amidst the noise, I buried myself in my work at my father's firm.

Before, they were a constant, disruptive presence. If I worked an hour of overtime, one of them would march into the boardroom and drag me out. If I had a dinner with a male client, they would lurk at the bar, claiming they were "making sure no one took advantage."

Now, the silence in my office was profound. I could finally just work.

We eventually crossed paths at a high-profile charity auction at Sotheby's.

They sat in the front row, Maddie nestled like a queen among them. I sat several rows back with my friend, Harper.

Lot after lot went to the front row. They bought Maddie millions in vintage jewels, drawing breathless sighs of envy from the women in the room.

When a stunning pair of antique emerald drop earrings appeared on the screen, I raised my paddle.

"Oh, those are beautiful. I love them," Maddie said, her voice carrying just enough to be heard.

Instantly, four paddles shot up from her row.

I raised my paddle three more times. Finally, Harrison Dupont threw out a number so astronomically high it effectively silenced the room. A blank check. Auction over.

Harper shot me a look of deep, painful pity.

The text hovered, glowing mockingly:

[Hahaha, who can compete with the male leads' bank accounts? Theyre going to give our girl the moon and the stars!]

[Think about how good they used to treat the side-character. Now shes nothing. Once you meet the one, your past means nothing!]

[This is the pure, romantic satisfaction I crave!]

During the intermission, the champagne flowed.

Harper clicked her tongue. "I still can't believe the four of them are doing this to you. How did it happen so fast?"

I just shook my head, offering a small smile, and took a sip of my drink.

"Miss Sinclair."

Maddies voice was sickeningly sweet. She approached our table, beaming.

"I saw you bidding on those earrings. Since the boys have already bought me so much tonight, why don't I just gift them to you? I'd hate for you to feel sad because of how well they treat me."

She held out the velvet box, her smile masking a sharp, arrogant provocation.

[Our girl is so kind. Truly a pure, angelic soul!]

Harper bristled. "If they bought them for you, keep them. It's not like Caroline can't afford her own jewelry."

I placed a restraining hand on Harpers arm, turning back to Maddie. "No thank you. Keep them, Miss Foster."

"Oh my, your friend is so angry. Is she upset because Harrison and the others are treating me so well? Is she fighting your battles?" Maddie pouted, ignoring the dark look on Harpers face. "Well, now I feel terrible. You must take these as an apology."

She thrust the box closer, practically shoving it into my chest. Frowning, I raised my hand to gently push the box away.

"Ah!"

Without my applying any pressure at all, Maddie threw her body backward, stumbling as if violently shoved.

Tristan and the others, who had been watching like hawks, surged forward in a panic. Tristan caught her before she hit the carpet.

"Are you okay?" Nathaniel, usually so composed, asked, his voice threaded with raw anxiety.

All four of them hovered over her, their faces etched with absolute devotion and fear.

Harper let out a breath of disbelief. She couldn't fathom that these menour menwere obsessing over someone else to this degree.

Maddie leaned into Tristan's chest, looking frail and flushed. "I'm okay. Thank God you caught me, Tris."

Then, she looked up at me, her eyes brimming with calculated tears. "Miss Sinclair, I know you're upset that they favor me now, but you didn't have to push me in front of everyone just to embarrass me!"

The surrounding crowd turned toward us, eyes hungry for drama. The Sinclair-Vanderbilt-Astor-Montgomery-Dupont fallout was the only thing anyone cared about.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Harper snapped.

[Wait? Did the side-character actually push her? I didn't see her move!]

[You just weren't paying attention! If our girl says she pushed her, she pushed her!]

[This girl is so vicious! But whatever, with the boys here, she can't hurt our baby. She's just going to embarrass herself!]

[Keep acting up, you wicked witch. They're going to exile you to the middle of nowhere!]

I glanced at the floating text, took a slow, grounding breath, and let my voice drop to a freezing calm. "Aren't you being a little ridiculous, Miss Foster? I barely moved my arm. Did I push you over with my mind?"

Maddie stiffened, then her eyes narrowed in a fleeting, contemptuous sneer, confident she held all the cards.

Kieran stepped up, his face flushed with anger. "Caro, Maddie was standing right in front of you and suddenly fell backward. If you didn't push her, who did?"

"We know this transition is hard for you, Caro," he continued, his tone patronizing. "But we just find Maddie incredibly charming. She hasn't done anything wrong. You can't just attack her because you're jealous."

Harper looked at Kieran like he had grown a second head.

Maddie hid a triumphant smirk behind her hand.

"He's right, Caroline. That was uncalled for," Tristan added, his voice low and cold.

My expression turned to stone. I looked at the four of them, letting my gaze linger before settling on Kieran. "So you're deciding, without question, that I pushed her?"

Kieran scoffed. "Isn't it obvious? Look, just apologize to Maddie, Caro. I'm sure she won't hold it against you."

Maddie gave a theatrical sigh. "I suppose since Miss Sinclair is feeling so insecure lately, if she apologizes, I'll be the bigger person and forgive her."

[Jealousy is so ugly. Look at the male leads defending their wife! So satisfying!]

[Our girl is so generous!]

"You people are out of your goddamn minds" Harper started, but a single, glacial look from Harrison Dupont silenced her.

No one crossed these men. And right now, all that immense, terrifying power was positioned behind Maddie Foster.

Harper looked at me, her eyes wide with real fear.

The whispers grew louder. Everyone was watching the mighty Caroline Sinclair be reduced to dirt beneath their shoes.

"Just apologize, Caroline," Harrison said softly, the disappointment in his voice heavy.

Kieran smiled, a cruel, boyish twist of his lips. "You used to teach us to take responsibility for our actions, Caro. We get it. We're great catches. You can't bear to let us go, so you take it out on Maddie. But she belongs to us now, and we're not going to let you bully her"

Smack.

The sound of my hand striking Kierans cheek echoed like a gunshot through the silent room.