Chapter 19 Anna
NINETEEN
ANNA
ANNALIESE
I guess that makes sense. At first, I couldn’t get over how I attacked the Used like that. Then there was that encounter in the bathroom which, if you can believe it, was even hotter than the first one.
I can’t forget about how my husband brought me back to my apartment only to show up again barely an hour later, a copy of my key in his hand, a smirk on his face, and the admission that he made a copy directly after we were married—and that he’s been letting himself into my place to sleep next to me because, and I quote, he hadn’t ‘had a good night’s sleep since we met, and the only way [he] can sleep is beside [me]’.
Part of me wanted to call bullshit. The other part? Though: fuck, that’s so damn romantic. To need to be close to me so badly that he broke into my apartment, telling any neighbor who saw him that he was my husband—which, technically, true—and always leaving before I woke up.
He was the perfect gentleman, too. He said he never touched me while I was asleep, and I believe him.
I would’ve noticed if he had a bit of a somno kink, fucking me while I was knocked out.
But, no… I had no idea he was there, though I can definitely say that I finally understand why I couldn’t get the smell of Sebastien’s yummy cologne out of my nose.
Because he was there. He was always there.
And now he is—because I’m living with him.
By the time I leave Sebastien’s house—our house—and arrive at the party venue an hour before the first guests are scheduled to arrive, my binder is already open to the color-coded “final sweep” tab, and I’m too busy double-checking the dinner menu to actually remember how to breathe properly.
And that’s ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. I planned this party down to the last detail. When I was working with Mom, we’ve run events ten times more complicated than a birthday party, even if the guest of honor is a high-ranking Order member.
But that’s the thing. This party is for my, well, my brother-in-law, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Sebastien hired me to do this. He had the faith that I could take his black Amex, my phone, and my laptop, and give Alexandre a party to remember.
So his birthday was back in September. For obvious reasons, he refused to admit that he turned thirty. Ever since Sebastien took a wife, though, his older brother has made it obvious that he has no intention of following the life path that had been set out for him long before he was born.
Good for him. Seriously, if I could’ve escaped the Order before everything got so damn complicated, I might have. Of course, then I never would’ve met Sebastien so… no. Maybe I wouldn’t have.
I didn’t just meet Sebastien, either. I married him.
And while I can try to convince myself that my nerves have everything to do with seeing this party go off without a hitch, the truth of the matter is a lot more selfish than that.
This is my Order debut as Sebastien’s wife.
Almost two months of marriage, and I’ll finally introduce myself as his wife to more than just my family and his.
To be fair, I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened already.
Or maybe it did. The… altercation at the Court spread like wildfire.
Seriously. It even reached Harmony Heights High because Miranda made a point to call me and teasingly say, “Everyone’s talking, Annie.
Word is Bas Reynolds is officially off the market—and you don’t want to mess with his wife. ”
She already knew that. My sister was at our wedding, but I’ve been so careful to keep my marital status hidden because of Eric.
After he repeatedly drove by my parents’ home, freaking her out, I knew I made the right choice.
I’m sure he did it on purpose. He probably stalked my place, too, and I didn’t even notice.
Now he can go right ahead because I’ve been living with Sebastien for the last two weeks.
Did I appreciate the heavy-handed way he decided that, as his wife, I would live with him? Not at all. I didn’t refuse him right away. After the way I acted at the Court and how he fucked me for it, telling me with both his words and his body that I’m his… yeah. I finally went home with him.
I haven’t left yet.
Adrian Heller made some phone calls. While I curled up in Sebastien’s bed in a room he insisted I think of as ours now that we’re happily engaging in the intimacy clauses of our contract, Sebastien’s close friend arranged to have everything I owned move from my apartment to Sebastien’s home.
He had a point. Our contract will continue for another ten months. And while I put in a section about separate residences, no one said we had to live apart. Why pay rent for my apartment when I could live with my husband for free?
I couldn’t argue with that. He paid me way more than I ever would’ve charged for planning Alexandre’s birthday—another reason why this has to be the best one ever—and it would be smart to squirrel that away.
Plus, it would be a load off of my parents.
They helped me with my rent while I was in the apartment.
If I need to move out of Sebastien’s place at the end of the year and find a new one for me, I should be able to stay afloat for a while.
For now, I’m just enjoying the time spent with Sebastien. In his home, in his arms, in his bed… I’m enjoying the time that I have with my husband while I can.
I just really, really wish wasn’t my fake husband.
The party is already in full swing. Soft lighting, a dozen different white flowers pouring from crystal vases, a string quartet perched near the open bar…
it’s everything Alexandre asked for when I sat down with Sebastien’s brother to find out his vision for this event.
I think I pulled it off, too. It’s modern elegance with just enough ostentatiousness to remind everyone that this party is for a member of the Reynolds family.
The room is crowded, too. Everyone who’s anyone in Harmony Heights is here, carrying their flutes of champagne, mingling with each other based on their status in the Order.
I’ve smiled at so many of them, it feels like my face might crack, but just as the waiters started to wind around the tables, serving dinner, I begin to get a little nervous.
Everyone who’s anyone in Harmony Heights is here… but what about Eric? I don’t know why it’s hitting me now that he could have decided to attend the party. Alexandre didn’t do invitations. It was an open guest list, with the expectation that those who should come would.
I was too busy before to wonder about who’s here. Now that we’re halfway through it and everything is going very well, I’m just waiting for something to go wrong.
Suddenly, warm fingers brush the small of my back, heating me up through the silky light blue dress I picked for the occasion. My heart jumps, though it beats triple-time when I glance behind me and see my husband.
Sebastien.
He’s been checking on me all night. I’d bet he knows everyone here, and there are plenty who whisk him away to chat, but he always finds his way back to me. Like now. He’s close enough that I feel the heat of his body through the silky material now as he closes the small gap between us.
“You alright?” he asks.
I nod. “I’m fine. I just… there’s a lot to do.”
Sebastien leans down, lips brushing my cheek. It’s not quite a kiss, but I’m suddenly aware that the gesture was enough to have several heads swiveling our way.
“Relax,” he says softly, ignoring them. “I have full faith in my wife and her binders.”
He’s teasing me.
I can’t help myself. I grin, laying my hand on the front of his leather jacket. So it’s out of place with the men in their suits, the women in their gowns… but, I’ll tell you, he’s the most striking, attractive man at the whole party—and he’s with me.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“Don’t mention it, love.”
For the next few minutes, Sebastien stays next to me. His pose is casual. Confident. One arm hangs loosely around my waist, the other resting in his front pocket. There’s no denying it’s a possessive hold, or that he’s preening to show me off to anyone looking our way.
And the strangest thing is… just having him near, I finally begin to relax.
Next to Sebastien, I’m happy. Safe. I feel loved—but I shouldn’t.
This is only a marriage of convenience.
Still, that knowledge doesn’t do a damn thing to stop my pulse from jumping every single time he glances at me.
I wish he could stay by my side the whole night.
When Sebastien is near… I don’t think about Eric.
It’s like Eric doesn’t exist, and that’s foolish of me.
I can’t monopolize my husband’s time. There are so many people who come by to talk to him, but when Dallas Collins stalks over to him—dressed in a dark suit that doesn’t make the King any less dangerous than he appears to be—I’m secretly glad that Sebastien follows him away so that they can bow their heads together, having a whispered conversation on the other side of the ballroom.
Sebastien tells me that I shouldn’t be afraid of the King.
That’s easier said than done. In Harmony Heights, there is no one else who has the power to ruin my life or my sister’s.
Everything we want hangs on one man’s whim, and while Sebastien assures me that Dallas is better than his father was at leading the Order, old habits die hard.
I spent years with Eric’s voice in my ear, whispering that he was the only one who could protect me from Jack Collins.
Jack Collins is dead. It doesn’t matter. If Dallas decides to demote Miranda, everything I’ve done since I left Eric would’ve been for nothing.
Well… maybe not for nothing. But still. I’m getting better at not flinching when Dallas comes near, and though I’d rather have Sebastien by my side while I watch over the party, I just put on my ‘business’ face and mentally run through the checklist in my binder while he’s occupied.
And that’s when I hear someone call my name.