Page 37 of The Substitute Fiancée

“Yeah. We make a good team.”

The absolute darkness suddenly feels more intimate. More dangerous.

Dinner flows on in laughter and surprises.

I find myself forgetting everything that’s eating away at me.

The betrayal. The pressure. The stakes.

I’m just… here. With them. And I feel almost happy.

We stumble out of the restaurant, still disoriented from the darkness and the wine. The cool night air does us good.

“So, verdict?” Emelyne asks, stretching.

“I still see black spots,” David grumbles.

“That’s because you spent two hours trying to see what was on your plate,” Mara teases.

“Hey, it could’ve worked!”

Sam walks beside me, her shoulder brushing mine with every step. I can sense her smile without seeing it.

“I loved it,” she says softly.

“Me too.”

We call another taxi van that drops us off one by one. The ride is noisy, lighthearted.

Oliver sings off-key. Mara scolds him. David laughs so hard the driver laughs with us.

Sam tells us about the time she ate a flower salad. She found the experience incredible because there were “so many colors.” I laugh like an idiot.

The taxi drops the girls off, then stops in front of my building.

I wish David and my brother good night and step inside.

The night concierge greets me, then stops me.

“You have a visitor.”

Damn it. No.

Don’t tell me—

The elevator opens onto my penthouse floor.

A man is standing in front of my door.

I recognize that look, cold, calculating.

Arthur Chevalier.

Kristel’s father. Sam’s father.

“Good evening, Alexander,” he says, a smile without warmth stretching his lips. “We need to talk.”

12. Invitation