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“You want it back?” He leaned down to kiss me, but I held him back.
“We are running late,” I said, and he groaned.
We left the house with his hand securing my waist until we got to the car. The ride lasted for twenty-five minutes. It was a grand hotel. I knew this place, but I had never been inside.
Tristan helped me up the steps, holding my hand to guide me so I wouldn’t miss a step. I gave him a soft smile, and we went inside the luxurious building.
The ballroom was big. There were many guests here already even though we were five minutes early. The decorations were beautiful and very lovely; all I could see was glitter. The bouquet of flowers on each table matched the rose-gold silk material covering the tables.
“There they are.” I heard Adrian’s voice.
He was rocking a fancy, dark suit. Karen trailed behind him in a short dress that had glitter everywhere; she looked like a disco ball but stunning.
“You look amazing,” Adrian told me with a broad smile.
“You too.” I grabbed a drink from the waiter passing, and they all laughed at me.
“It’s nonalcoholic,” I defended myself.
“You guys stick around while we welcome the others,” Adrian told us before leaving with Karen.
I had one mission tonight—to ask Adrian who Nadia was. I was waiting to have some time alone with him, and it didn’t take long for my wish to be granted.
Tristan was busy speaking with some business ally when Adrian came and offered me another glass of apple cider.
“Red looks better on you than any other color.”
“Now, I feel like I will look ugly in other colors.” I frowned.
“No, you look beautiful, no matter what color you wear,” he said after a brief laugh.
“Aww, thanks,” I said, placing a hand on my chest. It was time to ask him about Nadia. “Can I ask you something?” I asked, glancing at Tristan.
He was too engrossed in whatever he was discussing with the man in front of him.
“Sure.”
“Do you happen to know who Nadia is?”
He glanced at Tristan immediately after I asked.
“Is she Tristan’s wife?”
“What?” He looked confused.
“Is Nadia Tristan’s wife?” I asked again.
“No,” he said with soft laughter.
Had Tristan lied?
“Then, who is she?”
“Um … she is …”
“Me.”
A voice came from behind.
