Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chloe
Later that afternoon, Clarisse helped me with my make-up and brought a beautiful gown to my room.
Her hands gently pushed the dress over my head, then she adjusted it until it fit perfectly. Sucking in a breath, I looked myself in the mirror, trying to calm my nerves as she fastened the last button at the back.
The fabric, soft and weightless, cascaded down my body in elegant folds that pooled gently at my feet.
It was a rich shade, somewhere between midnight blue and black, shimmering and rippling like water with every movement.
The lacy bodice hugged my torso just right, while my arms were left bare except for the delicate straps hanging from my shoulders.
It was the kind of dress that could make anyone feel they were stepping into someone else’s fairy tale.
I watched Clarisse through the mirror, seeing how focused she was styling my hair, her fingers parting it in sections into a half-up bun while the rest cascaded down my back in soft waves.
I barely recognized myself.
“Clarisse…” I started softly, finding her eyes in the mirror, “I’m sorry for how I acted with you when I first arrived. I was scared and didn’t know what to expect.”
A lot had happened that day, and after all this time, it still made me squirm. But knowing her as I did now, I regretted throwing a vase at her.
Clarisse paused, her hands resting on my shoulders as she met my eyes in the mirror.
“Chloe, no need to apologize. You were thrown into a difficult situation, and fear can make us all act in ways we wouldn’t normally. I understand.”
Her kindness brought a lump to my throat. “Thank you.”
She finished fussing over the final details, then took a step back, admiring her work. A slow smile spread across her face.
“You look beautiful, Chloe. Zane won’t know what’s hit him,” she teased, her eyes glowing with approval.
I felt a flutter of nerves through me, imagining it.
I glanced at my reflection again, running my fingers over the embroidered details along the waist, tracing patterns I couldn’t quite make out.
Flowers? Leaves? It didn’t matter. What mattered was how the dress made me feel and it was as if for the first time, I wasn’t just the girl in the background. I was someone to be noticed. As if for the first time in my life, I was exactly where I was meant to be.
As the evening approached, I made my way down the stairs, each step making my heart beat faster with anticipation. At the bottom, Ivar and Andy stood waiting, both dressed in impeccable suits, ready to mingle at the party to keep Zane protected.
Their eyes snapped to me the moment I appeared. Andy smiled, but it wasn’t a malicious smile, it was more like an impressed one.
Ivar, on the other hand, remained stone-faced, the living definition of unbothered.
“Zane’s already waiting for you at the party,” Andy announced politely.
I nodded, watching as he moved ahead to open the door. But before following, I adjusted Ivar’s suit jacket and patted his shoulder in a way that was just condescending. Then I turned away dramatically, knowing I’d leave him fuming.
I slid into the car as Ivar and Andy took the front seats. The engine roared to life, and as we rolled past the gates, an odd sensation settled in my chest, as if I was breaking some sort of law by doing so.
The drive was long and quiet for the most part; no one said a thing. Then, city lights started to flicker past in a blur, making me realize we’d reached civilization. I turned to the window, my gaze tracing over the streets and buildings I recognized, and that odd feeling only grew stronger.
It had been clearly way too long since I’d been anywhere outside Zane’s house.
Then the car finally slowed, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art came into view.
But now, it seemed less like a museum and more like a grand venue.
Illuminated and decorated, every detail screaming wealth and power.
Through the tinted glass, my eyes caught the fancy cars and even fancier guests already crowding at the entrance.
It looked like something straight out of one of those old-money movies.
I took a deep breath. No turning back now.
The car rolled to a stop, Andy stepping out first, holding the door open for me. He offered a hand, but I ignored it, stepping out on my own.
A cool breeze brushed against my skin, sending a small shiver up my arms.
“Ready for the big entrance?” Andy asked, plainly amused by my discomfort.
I shrugged. “It’s just a party.”
He chuckled.
“Yeah, sure. Just a party where every single person in that room is going to be watching you.”
Great, because that was exactly what I needed to hear...
And, of course, he was right. The moment I walked inside and started mingling, I felt it.
Pairs of eyes.
Dozens of them.
In their world of wealth and power, there were no unfamiliar faces, which meant they were all trying to figure out who I was and, most importantly, who I was with.
Andy leaned in slightly, his voice low. “Told you.”
I forced a breath through my nose, straightened my shoulders, and kept walking.
But when I glanced back, Andy and Ivar had disappeared, leaving me stranded in the middle of a sea of strangers, surrounded by quiet whispers blended with background music and curious glances with no idea what I was supposed to be doing.
Where the hell is he?
Then, almost as if I felt him before I saw him, my gaze lifted.
There he was, standing in the middle of the grand staircase, a level above everyone else like he always was. A King above a crowd, owning the entire damn room.
In a way, maybe he did.
The second our eyes met, my shoulders squared and something rippled through me, a grounding sensation, electrifying, and inexplicably right.
My eyes roamed his body too, admiring how good he looked in his black suit, accentuating his strong shoulders. His hair was slicked back, making him look both authoritative and elegant.
When I reached the bottom of the staircase, he extended a hand.
Without hesitation, I took it, and he guided me up, before bringing my hand to his lips and letting it linger there as the world around us melted away.
Just him. Just me.
And whatever the hell was this between us.
“I hope I’m not too late,” I whispered and his eyes, usually so cold and commanding, softened in a way that twisted something in my chest.
Zane
Yeah, she was fucking late.
I should have been pissed.
If she’d been anyone else, I’d have been pissed enough to be crashing skulls. But I wasn’t. Not pissed for her being late anyway, but the fact that I wouldn’t have minded waiting a hundred more years just to see her like this was what caused the discomfort in my stomach.
That shade of blue was perfect on her skin. It caught the light so right that it made people stop and stare. The whole damn room parted for her to walk through, as though she was carrying all the stars in the universe stitched into that dress.
The fit was perfect, hugging her in all the right places. Of course it was. I’d given the measurements myself, knowing her body better than I had any right to.
And those eyes, those damn fairy-like amber eyes, held a kind of magic that made the wait worth it every second.
I wanted to gouge out the eyes of anyone else who got to witness this moment too. I’d brought her here to be seen, but suddenly I didn’t want anyone looking at her. Didn’t want to share even a sliver of her beauty with anyone.
She was mine.
Yet, she wasn’t mine at all, was she?
I’d planned everything down to the last detail for tonight, knowing the schedules to the guest lists, memorized every exit route and every damn blueprint to ensure nothing could slip past me. Everything except for how she’d made me feel, simply by looking at her.
A damn complication I hadn’t anticipated.
“You look good, Chloe.”
Good? Yeah, good wasn’t even close to how she was looking.
She was fucking breathtaking, but the words lodged in my throat, refusing to come out.
A faint blush crept up her cheeks, and she pressed her lips together, trying to hide the smile threatening to escape as if she knew.
“Thank you,” she said softly, “I’ve put a lot into this.” She gestured from her face down to her body. “So, how much exactly is this going to reduce my debt?”
I smirked, remembering the first time she’d asked this question things hadn’t gone exactly the way she’d hoped.
I played along, “As long as you cooperate, your debt is being decreased. Don’t worry. I keep notes on everything.”
“So, what’s the plan tonight?” she asked, curious, but maybe to also ease the tension she must have been feeling too.
“What makes you think I have a plan?”
She narrowed her eyes slightly, a flicker of fire starting to ignite in them.
“Because I’m the one standing here instead of your usual,” she said, then paused, like the words were tasting bitter on her tongue. “It’s not like Arianna was busy or anything, is it? She spent the morning with you, after all.”
She was jealous. She was as possessive about me as I was about her, and the feeling ran straight to my groin.
Although Arianna had an important role in maintaining my control over the streets, she was volatile, obsessed, and resentful. Good sex and the delusional hope that only existed in her head that she could one day become something more to me, was what had kept her in line all these years.
But things had changed.
And I didn’t want her anywhere near Chloe.
Watching them interact this morning had made me feel extremely protective over Chloe, along with other things I didn’t like. The way Arianna looked at her, the insinuations behind her words, all made my skin crawl.
I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
So, the rules had changed. Right there, in my office.
No one, except for a select handful of trusted people, would from now on be allowed inside the estate as long as Chloe was under my watch.
When Arianna walked into my office this morning, that was the last thing she’d been expecting to hear, judging by the way her face had twisted with anger and shock.
Not that I cared, she could sulk and scheme all she wanted; I wasn’t backing down for anyone, much less for her.
Chloe was my priority, and I’d do whatever it took to keep her away from unnecessary risks and complications.
“I didn’t want to spend time with Arianna. I wanted to spend time with you.”
She tried to keep her eyes burning into mine, but the hard swallow descending her throat gave her away. She clearly hadn’t been expecting me to flirt, and I couldn’t blame her, the words felt strange coming out of my mouth too.
But I was suddenly too amused to stop.
“You know,” I murmured, letting my voice drop lower, “the more you try to hide what’s on your mind, the easier it is for me to see it.”
She shot a warning look my way, but it only fueled me. I leaned in, testing the space between us, and she didn’t back away. Heat radiated off her skin, her breathing a little too controlled, her jaw set tight as if she was daring me to push further.
I did.
I reached up, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, letting my fingers graze her skin just enough to feel the way she stiffened. “You,” I murmured, dragging it out, “have a terrible poker face, Chloe King.”
Her sneer was instant but there was a flicker of something deeper beneath it. I swallowed down the chuckle threatening to escape.
“Now, shall we?” I asked, extending my arm toward her.
Her eyes followed the movement, but her hand didn’t.