Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
GRACE
It’s amazing what a team of people can accomplish in fourteen short days.
Two weeks since Christian formally proposed, and one week since my carefully crafted cover almost blew wide open, thanks to my former professor, and today is my wedding day.
The De Vils don’t let the grass grow under their feet, that’s for sure.
Christian insisted it’d be easier to get ready for the wedding at Oakleigh, and as Juliet’s flat couldn’t possibly accommodate the team of people fluttering around me, I had no choice other than to agree.
The lump in my throat as I said goodbye to Arron yesterday without knowing when I’ll see him again has had me on the edge of tears, but so far, I’ve managed to hold them back.
Before I left with my suitcase of personal items, Arron had pressed a USB drive into my hands, along with a phone—one of those old-fashioned flip phone types that hasn’t seen the light of day for years.
“The USB drive is in case you manage to gain access to his computer. There’s a program I’ve embedded that will run automatically to try to break the encryption. If it works, I’ll get an alert, then I’ll take it from there. It’ll need a few minutes to run, though, so don’t take any risks.”
“And the phone?” I’d asked.
“It’s a burner. I know encrypted apps exist, but they still leave metadata such as timestamps, IP logs, even if the messages vanish after a set amount of time.
And if his family decide to dig into your digital footprint, I’d rather not risk anything traceable.
This one’s clean. You’ll have to make sure it isn’t discovered, but that’s the easiest way.
Also, keep it on silent at all times. If I need you to call me, I’ll send a text.
All you’ll have to do is check it every day—and don’t get caught. ”
He’d grinned at the last part, oblivious to the constant nausea swilling around my stomach.
The sooner I find a proper hiding place for the phone and the USB, the happier I’ll be.
For now, I’m hoping concealing them at the bottom of a box of tampons will be enough until I come up with something better.
I should be good, unless Christian has a period kink he hasn’t yet revealed to me.
Once we’re married, I’ll have far more freedom to poke around without fear of interruption.
With any luck, I’ll find the evidence I’m looking for quickly, and escape before the ink has dried on the wedding certificate.
Is it odd that having that thought doesn’t make me break out in to a happy dance? Instead, it makes me feel as though I’ve lost it all in a game of chance.
“You look freaking gorgeous.” Juliet comes to stand beside me and touches her head to mine. “A fucking princess.”
“You’re one to talk. You look incredible.”
“No one will be looking at me, Grace.” We lock eyes in the mirror, and whatever she sees in mine makes her spring into action. “Okay, everyone, I need some alone time with my bestie. Off you go.” She shoos the entourage out before closing the door with a firm click. “Come and sit down.”
“I can’t. I’ll crease my dress.”
“Fuck the dress. I’ll make sure the photographer only takes pictures from the front. Now, come and sit down. I want to talk to you.”
Sighing, I perch on the end of the couch and ready myself for a Juliet special.
“How long have we known each other?”
“I can’t count that high.”
“Exactly. Which means I’m your ride or die.
Your go-to in times of crisis. Your sister from another fucking mister.
So, you listen to me, Gracie. Anytime you need me, you call.
Day or night; I don’t care. I know how hard these last few months have been, and how devastated you are, how raw your grief is, but I wanted to take this opportunity to remind you that I’m here for you. Today, tomorrow. Always.”
Tears rush to my eyes. I blink them away, but one falls, rolling down my cheek until it drips off my jaw and plops onto the dress. “I’m scared, Juliet.”
“I know, babe. It’s why I hate this for you. I wish there was another way.”
I shake my head. “No, you don’t understand.” I dash away another tear. “I’m scared that I’ll end up falling for the enemy, and then where will I be? Arron will never forgive me, and as for Uncle Daniel…” A shiver trickles down my spine.
“Fuck Arron, and fuck Daniel.” She cups my face and brings our foreheads together.
“If you fall for him, then you have to ask yourself if he is the enemy you believe him to be, because you’re intuitive, Gracie.
You sniff out the bad ones like a bloodhound.
If you fall in love with Christian, then I’m not sure he’s the enemy so much as a potential victim, just like you.
By all means, mine for the dirt. Just be prepared not to find any. ”
“And what if I fall for him and then find evidence to prove he’s culpable? What then?”
“You’re putting roadblocks in the way that haven’t even been built yet. Take it one day at a time. Today, you get married. As for tomorrow, see what it brings.”
“You’ve always had my back.”
“Never going to change, babes.”
There’s a knock at the door, and Juliet gets up to answer it. Before she turns the handle, she glances over her shoulder.
“Remember what I said. You need me, I’m here. I’ll burn the world rather than let you down.” She opens the door. “Oh, Mr. De Vil. Come in.”
Charles enters, cutting a handsome figure in his black morning jacket and gray trousers. It’s easy to see where Christian gets his looks from. His mother was a stunner, and his dad would give George Clooney a run for his money.
I rise from the chair, smoothing out my dress.
“Grace, what a picture you are.” He walks over to me, his smile a mile wide.
“Thank you.”
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here. Well, I know you sadly lost your father some years ago, and your mother more recently. Therefore, I wonder if you would do me the honor of allowing me to give you away.”
My jaw drops. I hadn’t seen that one coming. I press my fingers to my mouth, my chest expanding with gratitude. My wedding to Christian may be fake or, as this family call it, arranged, but there’s nothing fake about Charles’s offer.
“It would be my pleasure.”
He sticks out his arm. “Shall we? Your groom awaits, and I’m not spilling any secrets when I tell you he is ridiculously excited to make you his wife. I, too, am bursting with pride that you will become my third daughter-in-law. Welcome to the family, Grace.”
My throat is like sandpaper, and all I can do is nod. In pursuing my desire for the truth and, yes, for revenge, through Christian, I’m dragging his entire family into the quagmire.
As Charles walks alongside me down the sweeping staircase of Oakleigh Hall, I know, with one hundred percent certainty, that I’m destined to pay a terrible price in my search for the truth.
I only hope it’s worth it.
Idling outside Oakleigh is a beautiful Rolls Royce, its black paintwork so highly polished I’ll surely be able to see my face in it. The three of us climb inside. As the door closes, my heart rate sky rockets.
This is it.
I’m actually getting married to the man I hold responsible for losing my parents in horrific circumstances. I keep telling myself that any price is worth paying for the truth, but as I slide my gaze to Charles and his warm smile and fatherly kindness, I’m not sure anymore.
My doubts grow as the wedding march strikes up and Charles escorts me to the front of the chapel on Oakleigh’s grounds.
Hundreds of blurred faces watch me as I pass by them, all strangers, all De Vil friends and acquaintances.
I feel Juliet’s solid presence walking behind me, and I have to suppress an urge to reach back and take her hand.
Christian twists his body my way as I approach, and he breaks out one of his special smiles that make my insides turn to mush.
I slide my arm from the crook of Charles’s elbow and stand beside Christian.
“Stunning,” he murmurs. “You’re stunning, Grace.”
Despite the fakeness of this union, and Christian’s self-confessed intrinsic belief his attraction to me isn’t destined to last, his compliment lights me up inside.
I nudge him playfully with my elbow. “You’re not looking so bad yourself.”
The minister begins the service, his voice chipper and smile genuine. The gravity of lying in a house of worship hits me, and I stumble through my vows, but somehow make it to the end.
Fifteen minutes later, Christian knits our fingers together and leads me out into the weak autumn sunshine. The photographer snaps a few pictures of us with the chapel in the background, and then we’re in the car and on our way back to Oakleigh.
I twist my wedding and engagement rings around my finger, still processing what just happened.
“Regrets?” Christian asks me.
I stop fidgeting and smile. “No. You?”
“Not a single one. If I had to marry anyone, I’m glad I chose you.”
“Only because you’ll get to continue living your bachelor lifestyle.” I break into a grin, but it falls when Christian’s eyes narrow. “What? It’s true.”
A faint tinge of pink blooms across his cheekbones, and a muscle quivers in his jaw. “No one can predict the future; not even me. The truth is that, right now, I want you and only you.”
“Yes, but you said yourself, whatever this is between us will fade eventually.”
He jerks down the cuff on his shirt, his expression pinched. “Can we not speak about this on our wedding day?”
Frowning, I shake my head. “You’re confusing me now. All I was doing was reiterating our agreement and the understanding we came to.”
“And why is that? Have you tired of me already, before the ink is dry on the marriage certificate? Have you picked out your next conquest? Is he a guest at our wedding?”
I run my teeth over my bottom lip while I order my thoughts. Think before you speak was a mantra of my father’s.
“First of all, I don’t have conquests. Second of all, no, I haven’t tired of you, but if you don’t cut the attitude, you’ll find yourself standing alone at your own wedding reception, explaining to the guests that you don’t know where your new bride is. What is wrong with you?”
He scrubs a hand over his face and lets out a heavy sigh. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Duchess. I don’t know why I snapped.”
Eager to inject some humor into a situation that’s evolved into something far too serious, I reach for his hand and squeeze. “Wedding night nerves? Afraid you’ll flop?”
There’s a second where he pauses, then he bursts out laughing. “You have no idea how good you are for me.”
Before I can answer, the rear door opens. I hadn’t even realized the car had stopped. Staff are lined up as we exit, and mass applause breaks out. Unused to this amount of attention, I blush and duck my head, walking as fast as I can past the beaming smiles and calls of congratulations.
Apparently, it’s expected that we will personally greet every single guest, and after shaking more than five hundred hands and thanking people for their congratulations, my throat is raw, my palm tender and red.
It’s lovely to see Destiny and Loris again, though, and she reiterated her invitation to Montford Hall.
A bite of remorse nips at my insides. Here are two more people I’m lying to. Two more who will look back on every interaction and wonder how they could have missed such a manipulative liar.
The enormity of the occasion and the poisonous deceit running through my veins becomes too much.
I catch Juliet’s eye on the other side of the gigantic ballroom where she’s chatting to a middle-aged, red-haired woman.
I jerk my chin and cock my head, and she instantly recognizes my subtle SOS.
After extricating herself, she glides through the myriad guests standing around in small groups and loops her arm through mine.
“Christian, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m stealing my girl away for a few minutes.”
“And if I mind?” His eyes twinkle, his lips curving up.
“Well, then, I’ll just stay right here and chat to you both. Did I tell you that I sent three letters to my local councilor this week about the pothole at the end of my road? He—”
Christian’s hands come up, bracketing the sides of his head. “I surrender. Please, no more letters of complaint about the state of Britain’s roads.”
Juliet flashes an impish grin and leads me to a quiet part of the ballroom. She conjures up a couple of glasses of champagne from somewhere and passes one to me.
“How are you holding up?”
“By my fingertips.” I blow out a slow breath. “It’s a lot. I don’t think I realized how tough this would be. I’m… I’m having regrets. I think I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
“Marrying Christian, you mean?”
I shake my head. “All of it.” I glance around to check no one is within hearing distance and lower my voice to little more than a whisper. “The fake background, the lies, the innocent bystanders who are going to get hurt by what I’m planning to do. I’m not sure I can keep this up.”
“I knew this would be hard for you. You’ve always been such an open, honest person. But look at it this way. Now you’re married, you’ll see a lot more of Christian, and that means your chances of finding out what happened are far greater. With any luck, he’ll confess in his sleep.”
She grins, and I find myself smiling, too. That’s Juliet. She always manages to bring levity to the most serious of situations.
“You’re right. I can do this. I can.”
“Yes, you can. I believe in you, and I’m here for you. You’re not alone, even though it might feel like it. You’re one of the strongest, most determined people I know. You won’t be here long, I know it.”
“You’re right. I just have to stay alert to opportunities, remember what I’m here to do, and do it.”
Oh, and somehow stop myself from falling for the billionaire’s charms. Except, as I look across the room and find Christian staring at me, his expression one of blind lust, I have a horrible feeling it’s already too late.