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He places his hand on my lower back, and I suck in a breath as he guides me through the sea of people. My eyes venture to the patio where more people are piling in, and hope deflates in my chest as I search the crowd again for my family.
They will show up, right? I sure hope so. I know they won’t let me down.
Jasper holds my hand and brings it to my mouth, causing me to blush like a schoolgirl, but I keep my eyes glued to the crowd. He leans down, tucking my hair behind my ears.
Jasper hired a hairstylist to put a sew-in into my hair, and so I have long big curls today. “You’re looking for your mother?”
I barely nod, swallowing hard trying to keep the pain in my chest at bay. I want to see her and talk to her.
“I sent a car to the house, but no one was there,” he says, stroking my lower back with his other hand. “But someone else is here to see you.” He points in front of us. My gaze slides to my sister and Tate, who are speaking to another couple, and tears wet my eyes as I leave Jasper’s side and waltz up to her. I tap her on the shoulder and Sophia turns around and brings me into a hug.
“You made it.” I pull away from our embrace, taking in her long black dress that shows off her shoulders and back. Her curly hair is in a bun and her makeup is flawless, covering up the bruises on her face.
I glance at Tate, and rage fills me like a bucket of cold water. I keep my smile tight as he smiles back at me. This is not the time to confront him about how he treats my sister, and I don’t want to make myself look bad in front of my guests.
“Congratulations,” he says before taking a sip of whatever liquor he’s drinking. His eyes are a rare green, and his skin is tan like golden sand, smooth as marble. His dark red suit is custom-made.
Honestly, I don’t know what my sister sees in him, as his personality is as dry as wood.
“Thanks.” I loop my arm with Sophia’s. “I need to steal my sister for a moment.”
“Don’t be too long,” he says.
I subtly assess her for any signs of new bruises. “Are you okay?”
She grabs a champagne flute as a waiter strolls by, then sips from the crystal glass. “I’m fine for the most part. Tate apologized for hitting me and he promised to take me to Paris next week.”
I want to tell her that he shouldn’t be putting his hands on her anyway but it’s going to lead to a fight and I don’t want to fight with her. It’s a matter of time before he strikes her again. I want to ask her how long he’s been abusing her, but I refrain from doing so. I doubt she will tell me, and I have other things to worry about right now.
“I can’t believe Mom didn’t show up, I know she was mad, but I thought she would come around,” I say in defeat.
“She doesn’t believe you’re going to marry Jasper. She knows it’s fake.”
Panic rides in my chest like a tidal wave, and I stop walking, accidently bumping into someone, but I don’t bother sparing them a glance.
“Our brother told her you were meeting men online to find a fake fiancé and she confronted me about it. I told her you were, but that you and Jasper are for real and he loves you, but she’s not buying it. Our mother can be stubborn as a mule.”
I spot Jasper speaking to an older woman, and I glance back at Sophia. “She can be.”
The pain in my chest grows twice as big, and my hands shake like leaves.
“Even if you marry him, I don’t think Mom is going to come around. If I were you, I would cut off the wedding.”
My plan went up in smoke and flames. There is no hope for my relationship with my mother, and everything I’m doing is costing me. I can’t call the wedding off because I gave Jasper my word, and he’s counting on me so he can get his uncle’s business.
I shake my head. “No, I gave him my word, so I’m going to go through with it.”
“Suit yourself, but I think you’re making a terrible mistake by marrying him.”
I don’t respond, keeping my eyes glued to Jasper. His eyes find mine. He cocks his right eyebrow in question, and I shake my head, casting my head down.
Someone taps me on the shoulder, and I turn around to find a man with dark hair, his designer suit a little too tight. His eyes linger on my bare legs before they make their way to my face. He gives me the creeps.
“Poppy. I’m Tommy, Jasper’s father. Care to walk with me?”
I have heard so much about him in the news and about his billionaire status, and like Jasper, he reeks of power. But I have never taken the time to get a good look at him in the blogs. You can tell he’s related to Jasper. Their eyebrows are thick and bushy, though his brown hair is darker than his. They both have the same tan skin.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand, and I glance back at Jasper, only to find him fully engaged in another conversation with Trent.
