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I walk down to the pier and sit in the same spot from last night, and I wait.
Lainey doesn’t come.
Chapter Twenty
Lainey
Tonight happens to be Halloween, which is why Victor’s planned a masquerade ball to finish out the week of festivities. Of course, no one is actually going to come in costume. Everyone will be dressed in couture and relying on their masks to form the bulk of their disguise.
My custom Dior dress is held up by a fitted corset overlaid with soft silk, so tight I feel like I can’t take a deep breath. The skirt flutters to the ground, made of nearly transparent layers of tulle, each one adorned with ethereal sequined stars, so subtle you’d have to bring the fabric right up to your face to be able to make out the pattern. It’s the dress of an angel, and my slim silvery-white mask furthers the effect. It was made by an artisan at Dior who used embroidered stars to form a cat’s-eye mask so delicate I’m scared to touch it once it’s been tied in place.
The party is in full swing when I approach the top of the stairs that lead dramatically down into the villa’s ballroom. Waiters flank both sides, dressed in their trademark dark blue damask-patterned suits, though for tonight, they’ve added coordinating masks as well. One of them hurries toward me as I stop on the landing and look down at the crowd.
There’s power in anonymity. I don’t doubt the guests will place me soon enough, but for this first moment, in this dress and mask, I don’t fail to capture their attention. They’re enthralled, and I like it—the cool caress of eyes on me as I take the offered hand of the attendant and walk slowly down the stairs.
For once, I’m not alongside my grandmother. She arrived earlier, the guest of honor on Victor’s arm. I was still getting the finishing touches done to my hair and makeup when she left our shared rooms. She preferred it this way.
“That way you’ll make a real entrance.”
I lift my gaze and take in the crowd at the bottom of the stairs.
Every guest gathered there is staring up at me. People who’ve largely ignored me all week now seem unable to look away, to even blink.
It’s Victor who whirls into action, taking me from the attendant, spinning me around so that I’m forced to turn and show him every angle of my dress.
“You’ve done it, my dear. You’ve managed to capture the essence of an angel. Your grandmother told me about this dress and dear God, it does not disappoint. Turn just once more for me. Stu-nning.” He leans in for a double air kiss on my cheeks. “You’ve managed to make every other person in this room look like they pulled an outfit off the rack at Macy’s. Who is this? Valentino?”
“Dior.”
“Of course. Maria never misses. I’ll have to congratulate her on another showstopper. Would you like champagne?”
“Please.”
“Good. Come with me and I’ll parade you through the party so everyone can get an eyeful before that handsome fiancé of yours steals you away for the rest of the evening.”
“Oh, I—”
I’m not given the opportunity to correct his misunderstanding about the man I’m actually betrothed to because he’s found a group of people he’d like to chat with, and instead of loosening his grip on me so I can slink away, he keeps a firm hand on my arm.
“Have you all seen this dress?” he asks, thrusting me into the limelight.
They ooh and ahh, performing for Victor more than me.
“Lainey, it’s gorgeous,” Florence says. “Who designed it?”
Victor swoops in and answers her before I can.
“It needs to be sent to Dior’s archive after tonight!” another person comments.
“I’m sure that’s already been arranged,” Victor says with an air of impatience.
“How long did it take them to create this?”
“I—I’m not sure.”
“Weeks, I’ll bet,” the woman beside me says, picking up the top layer of tulle near my hip to inspect the embroidery. “This is all hand done. Wow. How were you able to secure a custom fitting like this?”
Victor swats at her hand until she drops the material. “Darling, if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” The cliché line is delivered in a mockingly slow drawl, and the circle of people laugh.
Everyone except for me because while they were fawning over my dress, I was staring up at Emmett on the second-story landing. His arrival brings with it a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. He stands at the top stair, wearing a classically tailored tuxedo over a black dress shirt. Even from a distance, I can see his black mask is inscribed with swirls of silver leaf. Without meaning to, we’ve dressed like polar opposites. Light and dark. Good and evil.
His eyes sweep the crowd, and unlike when I stood in his spot, surveying everyone with equal measure, he seems to be on the hunt for someone right up until his gaze settles on me. My heart plummets in my chest as he slowly begins his descent down the stairs, never taking his eyes off me. With every breath, my chest strains against my corset. My hand instinctively comes to press against my stomach, where a tight knot has already formed.
