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“A fortune-teller?” I was puzzled.
Shane chuckled softly. “Yeah, my father hired a fortune-teller for tonight to add variety to the event.”
“Your father loves being extravagant, doesn’t he?”
“Oh yes, he does.” Shane grinned, shaking his head.
“But I wouldn’t peg him as someone who believes in fortune-tellers,” I stated. It didn’t fit the Karl Vergoossen I knew.
“He doesn’t. It’s just for fun. Also, to raise more funds apart from the auction,” he clarified. “What about you? Do you believe in fortune-tellers?”
I tilted my head slightly to the side, pondering. I’d never really thought about such things. I always assumed everyone was in charge of their destiny. On the other hand, I did believe some things were meant to be. “Hmm… no, I don’t believe someone like a fortune-teller can predict your future. But I do believe some things are written in the stars, as they say. You?”
Shane smiled. “No. I’m a practical and realistic type of man. I believe in hard facts.”
“So I thought,” I joked, and we both chuckled.
Suddenly, his mood changed, and within a fraction of a second, he went from joyful and relaxed to serious and tense. His gaze followed a short brunette in an alluring asymmetrical long-sleeve black lace mermaid dress. A pinch of jealousy rushed through me, but I didn’t want to be an obsessively jealous woman who would jump to conclusions or feel threatened. I trusted Shane. Despite knowing him for just a few weeks, I trusted him more than anyone else in my life.
“Excuse me for a moment.” He pressed his lips together, forcing a smile, but his dry tone gave away that the woman wasn’t just anyone.
“Okay,” I said softly. “Just don’t make me wait for too long.”
“I would never.” He kissed my hand, giving me a charming smile before he headed toward the table with refreshments where the brunette beauty with hypnotizing russet eyes and tanned skin was sipping her champagne.
I watched Shane talking to her, he was tense and deadly serious, unlike her. She seemed relaxed, her sex appeal radiating miles away. I wondered who she was and, most importantly, who she was to Shane. Was she someone from his past? Was she someone important? An ex? A lover? A relative? No, definitely not a relative. She was too seductive around him to be his relative. I felt an unpleasant pang of jealousy at the thought that Shane could’ve had an affair or maybe even a serious relationship with the sexy Spanish beauty.
“Good evening, Miss…?” I instinctively stood up and turned to meet the face behind the silvery voice that rumbled from behind, completely distracting me from my thoughts about the mysterious brunette.
The man looked at me, and his chestnut eyes seemed familiar. I scanned his face, trying to recall if we’d met before. Judging by his asking tone, we hadn’t. But there was something weirdly familiar about him. He was handsome, very handsome. His spiked brown hair was neatly brushed back. His olive skin tone contrasted the white shirt he wore under his black tuxedo. It finally hit me. It must’ve been Anders, Shane’s half brother. He looked like a perfect combination of Karl’s strong features and Elena’s charming beauty.
“Atwood.” I extended my hand to greet him.
“Ah, Melanie Atwood.” He shook my hand, but a weird chill swept the length of my spine as a sly smirk appeared on his face when he heard my name. Now, he looked just like his father, with a kind of shrewdness gleaming in his eyes.
“You must be Anders,” I said, intimidated by his presence.
“Anders.” Shane’s deep voice reached my ear while he held me around my waist. It was incredible how Shane’s mere presence made me feel safe, boosting my confidence like nothing else. I clung to his touch, drowning in his husky voice. “I see you already met Melanie.”
“I’ve just had the pleasure.” Anders smiled, this time in a polite, acknowledging way. “I’ll leave the two of you alone. I’ll say hi to my parents. It was nice meeting you, Melanie.”
“It was nice meeting you, too, Anders.”
The Vergoossen brothers exchanged sinister gazes before Anders sized me up, head to toe which made me feel uneasy before he turned on his heel and disappeared in the crowd of elegantly dressed people.
“He doesn’t like me, does he?” I turned to look at Shane.
He clenched his jaw, letting out a quiet sigh. He didn’t have to say anything because I already knew the answer to that question.
“Because I’m an Atwood?” I pressed my lips together.
Shane grabbed my chin with his fingers, lifting it gently so that our gazes locked. “It doesn’t matter, Melanie. They don’t understand that a name doesn’t define a person. They just need more time to seeyoufor who you are and not through the prism of your father.”
“What did my father do to your family that they hate him that much?”
Shane smiled faintly, caressing my cheek with his thumb. “We’ll talk about it later, okay? Now it’s your turn to see the fortune-teller.”
“Sure,” I agreed despite not being satisfied with his sly way of avoiding the topic.
