Page 8 of Vows of Silence

When he’d reached over the table to shake Marco’s hand, the scent of his aftershave had filled my nostrils, and I’d had to give myself a stern talking to when I’d closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

The man was insanely good-looking. That went without saying. He was tall, dark hair, striking grey eyes, and he filled his suit effortlessly. His smile was full of beautiful, even white teeth, and he flashed small dimples every time he spoke. He was charming, graceful, and flawless. Picturesque.

And yet—and yet—there was something there. A quality I couldn’t put my finger on. Something that had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

A feeling not too dissimilar to the ones I had felt the past few weeks when I’d been feeling eyes on me.

Had it been Adrien watching me?

It would make sense. But…

The thought vanished before I could make sense of my thoughts. Because he turned that easy smile over to me, pinning me down with his intimidating eyes.

I felt as though I was being inspected, not admired.

“And you know my daughter, Isabelle,” my father said proudly, his chest puffing with pride.

Luca:You’re technically his fiancé, and yet your father has to introduce you to Adrien. You have a fucked up family, little ember.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. I didn’t stand up, even though every male was standing. My mother hadn’t, and I was taking my social cues from her. Though it did make me feel at a disadvantage. It felt as though he was staring down at me, already assessing my weaknesses, and where he could exploit them.

I shivered again.

“You’re just as beautiful in person as you are on camera,” he said smoothly, his gaze lingering on me for just a beat too long.

“Thank you.”

Luca:You’re more beautiful in person. The two aren’t even comparable. On camera, you are stunning. In person, you are fucking ethereal. Flawless. The man is a putz.

Adrien inclined his head to me respectfully, and then turned back to my father, accepting the invitation to join us for dinner.

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he sat beside my mother, directly opposite Marco and diagonally across from me. The staff immediately sprang to life, rushing to fill his glass with whiskey—Adrien’s choice of drink—and the cook brought out plates upon plates of food, allowing our guest of honour his pick.

Marco scoffed under his breath, having not been afforded the same treatment, and I subtly kicked him beneath the table before taking the opportunity to reply to Luca.

Isabelle:And how would you know, Mr Mysterious?

Luca:Don’t be naïve. There hasn’t been a single day in the past three fucking years that I haven’t been close to you. You just didn’t look hard enough.

Now, what wasthatsupposed to mean?

Marco noticed me and saw the perfect opening to get his revenge and kick me back. I placed my phone back under the napkin on my knee and gave him a sarcastic grin.

“… sold another house today,” my father was saying.

“I’m not surprised. If you’re anything like your dad, you’ll go far in life.”

“Thank you, Mr Vescari,” Marco said politely. “I’m learning on the job, so to speak, but I’m a natural.” He flashed the same easy smile Adrien was so renowned for, and leant back in his seat. His arm came around the back of my own chair, his fingers drumming on the wood behind me.

Adrien’s eyes followed his movement, flashing with a hint of displeasure for the briefest of seconds, before he turned his eyes back to me.

“So, Isabelle…” he said, my name lingering on his lips, those unnerving eyes staring at my face. “I’ve heard from everyone else this evening, but you’ve been awfully quiet. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Luca:Tell him he’s a dead man.

Luca:Tell him you’ve been planning your escape.

Luca:Tell him to go to hell.