His stare softens. “No, but your best friends know you’ve been quieter lately, and we want you to know you’re not alone.”
My mind is empty, frozen, and as it starts to thaw, the back of my eyes burn. “Thanks, man.”
“Anytime.” He smiles. A moment passes, a beat of vulnerability, and then he saves me from any further torment. “Now, let me show you what it’s like to bench three hundred fifty pounds.”
“As. Fucking. If,” I scoff, laughing as he opens the weight room door.
God, I’ve got the best friends.
Ideserve to live out of the shadows.
Myra’s words have echoed in my mind repeatedly since our conversation that night. It’s bringing up old feelings I thought I’d healed from. But maybeignoring themis a better way to put it.
Deep down, I know she’s right, but a part of me is absolutely terrified. I don’t think I’d do well, living as Cirella Chamberlain, not the way it is now. With the glitz and glamour and showboating.
Growing up, I lived an incredibly ordinary life with my dad, not knowing the wealth that hid in our bank accounts. We weren’t flashy people.
He shielded me from the spotlight his aristocratic role in society illuminated. My photo was never in a paper or an article. No one knew where we lived or even my name.
As far as the world is concerned, Patrick Chamberlain was a childless man without any living family, aside from the new wife he left behind.
It used to hurt my feelings that he didn’t want to bring me to any events or that he didn’t want to tell the world about me. But the older I get, the more I understand his decision to do so.
Especially after seeing how affected Adrianna is by money, status, and the life the Kensingtons live—with vultures at their feet.
He saved me from that, a gift I never knew I was receiving.
Even after his death, the articles only told a story of a businessman whose life was dedicated to bettering the world. They weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t the entire story.
I’ll still never be able to understand how a man so intelligent and kind could fall under an evil witch’s spell. Maybe that’s it. Maybe she has powers over men. That must be how she’s convinced Everett to marry her.
Guilt gnaws at my chest for my playing a part in her plan, for my agreeing to fool this innocent family. But I don’t have a choice if I want to get the deed to my parents’ home. It’s only for another month, until the wedding, and then I’ll be free from her grasp once and for all.
I’ll probably stay at the Kensingtons’ mansion and keep my job because it’s far too good of an opportunity to pass up, but there won’t be ties between Adrianna and me anymore.
A knock sounds on my bedroom door, and my stepmother’s voice calls out. I may not be able to see her through the door, but I can practically visualize the mocking smirk as she says my fake last name.
“Ms. Matthews.”
Could she tell I was thinking about her? Jesus.
Moping over to the door, I twist the knob and pull it open.Let’s get this over with.
“Could you have moved slower?” She looks back and forth down the hallway, worried someone will dare see her here in thepeasants’wing.
Instantly, I let her inside, my lips sealed shut.
She gasps as I shut the door behind her, her attention locked on my hard work.
I can see the moment she takes the gown in, her eyes twinkling in response. My heart does a somersault in my chest.
I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
I hate that I still care what she thinks. That there’s a part of me who believes she may be redeemable when I know she’s not.
“Oh, it’s magnificent. Hurry, help me try it on.” She fusses out of her clothes, down to her undergarments, desperate to get into the gown I made her for her masquerade engagement party tonight.
Layers of fabric cascade over the dress form. Thousands of beads and gems decorate the straps and bodice before fading down the skirt of the dress.
