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“Mother is going to shit bricks when she sees this.”
“She’ll probably say I look like a disco ball.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll fight her.” Dacia reached forward to touch the fabric and whistled. “I hate to say this, but your future husband has taste. What’s in the card?”
I opened it and an invitation fell out. I read it with disbelief. “Apparently, my official engagement party is this Saturday. We’re not even married and he’s already making decisions without consulting me.”
“That’s literally in three days.”
I scanned the card. “It must be an intimate affair. Only close family and some of their business associates.”
“Is Zeno at least hot?”
“He’s easily the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”
“Maybe being married to him won’t be so bad.” She raised her hands in surrender when I glared at her. “Hey—clearly you’re both attracted to each other. That counts for something, right?’
Not replying was answer enough.
Behind the invitation, there was another note.
Mon ange,
A little gift for the engagement party on Saturday. Though I prefer you naked, I have no doubt you’ll look stunning in this dress.
Be there at 5:30 p.m. sharp. I want to introduce you to my family.
Also, while I dig the whole uptight principal look you have going on, you’re most beautiful when you let your hair down.
Zeno
My heart swooned. My mind raged.
How dare he dictate whatIwear? How dare he tell me how to stylemyhair? Just to piss him off, I’d arrive with the tightest chignon known to humankind.
But I would wear the dress.
One, it was designed by Anna Reina Sereno. Two, her creations always made me feel like a million dollars. Zeno obviously did his research on my shopping habits and favourite designers, and I begrudgingly commemorated him for that.
Lost in thought, I never realized when Dacia leaned over to read my note.
She cursed.
I dropped it back into the box.
Dacia hiked an eyebrow. “I stand with my original opinion. I think your future husband genuinely fancies you, and if you weren’t scared before, I would be scared now. There’s nothing like a man deep in lust who wants something he can’t have, Darla.”
“What are you trying to say?”
She rose up and smoothed her hands down her dress. “I’m saying…don’t be surprised if you find yourselves not wanting to divorce in twelve months.”
The De la Croix estate was jaw-droppingly stunning. The courtyard was littered with a flurry of lanterns and the ground covered in heavy fall foliage. The manoir was rich in dark bricks, high-potted plants, and a circular driveway with eight luxury cars. In its centrefold was a round fountain with water streaming out of cherubs’ flutes.
But there was nothing angelic about this place. The air swivelled with thick tension and the faint smell of gunpowder hung at its fringes.
I imagined this was how Hades’s palace looked like in the underworld.
Ornamental on the outside and devoid of life on the inside.
