Chapter 11 Aerin
AERIN
The last time I tried to get a rise out of Falco, he ended up fingering me in the shower.
I’m not entirely sure what my goal is with him, but I’m not backing down.
Not when he’s the first person to ever show me real attention like I’m a person worth being around.
There’s no harm in playing around with a crush, right?
I’ll make him admit he’s attracted to me if it’s the last thing I do.
Dress shopping with Mom is usually a painful experience given our different tastes in dresses.
Mom aims for anything sparkly with larger skirts and straps that always make me feel tied down.
I suspect she chooses louder, puffier dresses for me to hide my body and create the illusion of someone small and skinny hiding underneath the ruffles.
I prefer form-fitting dresses with long, simple skirts and collars that accentuate my tits.
Now I have someone to pose for, that becomes the only dress I allow in the fitting room, much to Mom’s annoyance.
Nearly dying three times finally gives me the courage to put my foot down about my clothing choices, and it’s paying off.
Falco can’t keep his eyes off me.
That might be because he takes his job so seriously, but I’m choosing to believe it’s because I’ve paraded in front of him in six gorgeous, elegant dresses that wrap my body in silk and make me look really fucking good.
Even Mom grudgingly admitted to liking a few of them.
He’s spent the past three hours standing by the door like a statue, one hand clasped over his wrist as they rest just at his waist.
He doesn’t speak, he doesn’t smile, and the only time he moves is to send a few glances toward Mom’s bodyguard as if they’re speaking in some sort of code.
Other than that, he stares at me intently.
And I like it.
None of the dresses I’ve shown compares to the last dress.
As the tailor zips me up, I gaze at myself in the floor-length mirror while my heart flutters in excitement.
This is the dress.
The floor-length black gown shimmers in the low light as the built-in bone corset hugs my waist with just the right amount of form-fitting pressure.
The corset shoves my tits up into the plunging neckline, making them look amazing as the halter straps loop around my neck.
A long slit on the left of the dress parts as I take my first step off the stage, clasping the tailor’s hand as I walk.
“With heels, you won’t need to worry about the extra length,” she says as she leads me out through the curtain. “The fabric will kiss the ground as you walk and it’s light enough that it’s breathable, so even under hot lights, such as a show, you won’t be overheating.”
“Aerin!” Mom stands abruptly, her hands flying to her face. “Oh darling, look at you! Although, are you sure you want this in black? It’s very…bold. And a lot of fabric.”
A compliment and an insult within the same breath. Classic.
“This is the dress.” I give her a wide smile. “It feels good. I look good. And it’s perfect for a long dinner.”
“Aerin, No. I’m not sure—”
“Mom.” I stop a few feet away from her and smooth my hands down the corset, tracing the elegant swirling details worked into the underbust. “This is the dress.”
While an argument still blazes in her eyes, Mom nods slowly and sighs. “Are you sure?”
“Should we get a man’s opinion?” My eyes lock immediately onto Falco, who is staring at me just as intently as the last few times I’ve walked out of the curtain. “What do you think?”
“Darling, that’s not necessary,” Mom sighs, brushing her fingertips along her jawline. “I’m just making sure you’re making the best choice for you.”
I take a step closer to Falco, daring him to look away.
He doesn’t.
“Do you think I look beautiful in this dress?” I tilt my head to the side, my curls spilling over one shoulder.
Falco’s throat bobs as he swallows.
He listed off a bunch of excuses when he pushed me away yesterday, but never once did he say that he wasn’t interested.
Everything about my life is wrapped in these rules and regulations.
I’m going to push Falco until he breaks through them.
“I cannot comment,” Falco replies stiffly.
“Yes, you can. In fact I’m ordering you to give me your honest opinion.” My pulse quickens as Falco’s eyes dart down for a second, taking me in from head to toe while Mom sighs behind me.
“Yes,” Falco finally replies. “You look beautiful.”
I smirk then melt into a warm smile as I turn back to Mom. “See? I told you. This is the dress.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Fine, darling. That’s the dress. You know they’re paid to agree with you, right?” She tosses her head toward her guard. “It’s in their contract.”
As I nod at her words, I walk slowly back through the curtain.
To an extent, she’s right. Any of the guards would give an honest yet polite answer if asked such a thing.
But as Falco pointed out, he doesn’t work for me.
The dress is the highlight of my day because as soon as night falls the estate turns into polite chaos as Mom’s private dinner moves into full swing.
Every guard is on high alert, even Falco looks slightly tense.
He stands against the wall behind my chair, flanked by two of my father’s best guards.
Across the table from us sits the reason security is so high and why I was ordered to look my best for this dinner.
Dad is working out a deal with the Irish, details that he refuses to tell me, but part of that deal appears to be hosting a dinner for Frederick Byrne, the son of the Irish captain.
“My father extends his apologies,” Frederick says as the first meal is served. “He would love to be here, given how important this meeting is, but unfortunately, my mother is poorly and he needs to take care of her.”
“I understand,” Dad says, reaching for Mom’s hand between their plates. “It’s important to take care of the women in your life. They are our pillars after all.”
Mom chuckles softly and leans into him, kissing his cheek while Frederick nods with a broad smile.
I bite the inside of my cheek and focus on my meal.
While my parents have always cared for one another, their overly affectionate display isn’t quite like them.
Usually at these dinners, everyone is on their best behavior while my father secures his deals and my mom acts like arm candy.
Seeing them like this in front of a stranger is…weird.
Most of the conversation washes over me while I eat.
They discuss drugs and weapons, names of people I’ve only ever heard of in passing, and tense talks of the bloodshed between our two families.
Frederick echoes my father’s desire for peace and constantly compliments the food and my mother, as if a good meal can end months and years of war.
In some situations, it really can.
After we eat, we all retire to the drawing room, where my father pours whiskey for everyone except Mom and me.
We’re served a pink cocktail that tastes like strawberries and cream.
It slides smoothly down my throat while over the edge of my glass I watch Falco.
Like always, he’s watching me like a hawk.
With each sip of my cocktail, my mind wanders to what life would be like if this was a typical family having a normal dinner with everyone being friends.
I’d flirt openly with Falco until he took me in those strong arms and ripped this dress from my body, then I’d remove his tie with my teeth and finally get my hands on that gorgeous body of his.
If only.
“Aerin?” Mom appears at my elbow and I jolt, dragging myself from my thoughts.
“What?”
“Don’t what me,” she says with a sigh. “It’s impolite.”
“Sorry.”
“Mhm. Your father and I want to talk to you.”
Dad melts out of the crowd with a warm smile on his face. “Aerin. You look beautiful tonight,” he says while kissing my cheek.
“Thank you. I love this dress.”
“Yes, it suits you,” Mom replies as if she wasn’t against the dress from the beginning.
“You’ve spoken with Frederick, yes?” Dad turns and suddenly Frederick is added to our cluster.
I smile politely and nod, tucking a few escaped strands of hair behind my ears. “Yes, a little over dinner. Nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you too,” he replies, his chin held high as his nerves betray him.
“Well, there’s no point in beating around the bush,” Dad says. “Aerin, you and Frederick are to be married. The main point of this dinner is so the two of you can familiarize yourselves with one another.”
The ground suddenly plummets away from me as my father’s words loop around my mind.
Behind his head, Falco’s brow lifts as the words reach him too.
“I’m sorry,” I gasp, my voice strained. “Married?”
“Yes,” Dad continues. “It’s all worked out with the captain.
Given the bad blood between our families over the years, this is the perfect way to ensure that both sides hold up their end of the bargain.
In turn, the joining of two families from different organizations will benefit us all in the long run. ”
Dad might as well have been speaking Portuguese from how much I understand the words coming out of his mouth. I always knew this was a possibility.
From a young age, Mom has always instilled in me the value of being a wife to someone.
That value quadrupled when Dad made me the family heir, and it’s why he’s so intent on ensuring no one touches me.
I’m to remain pure until my wedding night. That’s my true value.
But now? This isn’t real.
I must be dreaming.
“It’s an honor,” Frederick says, reaching for my hand with a smile that shows he already knew this was happening. Only I have been blindsided.
Numb, I let him take my hand and kiss the top of my knuckles while my parents continue to talk about how I expected this, how wonderful it will be for both families, how I’m doing something honorable and that will ensure the longevity of two already powerful families.
Through it all, my attention lingers on Falco.
In an instant, I wish he would steal me away from here.
Then Falco’s lips twitch down, and my horror as suddenly being engaged to a stranger morphs into something else.
I can use this.
I can turn this around and use it to force Falco to tell me how he really feels.
Once I know for sure, once I confirm what I know to be in my heart, then maybe running away won’t be such a fantasy.
“Aerin?” Mom once again drags me back to reality and I force a bright smile, then I take Frederick’s hand and step so close to him that his cheeks flush pink.
“Walk with me,” I say. “In the garden. It’s probably best for us to get to know each other, right?”
“Oh, of course.” Flustered, Frederick offers me his elbow rather than his hand, and I loop my arm through it.
With a gentle tug, I guide him away from the party and toward the bay doors leading to the garden.
And, predictably, Falco follows.