Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Sophie
Wear our dress.
The text lights up my phone screen, and I slam the device face down on the small wrought-iron table so hard that my water glass jumps.
Damn Lucian.
Why can’t I get away from him?
Frustrated, I pull my hair back from my forehead.
Between him and his menacing sidekick, my life has been wrecked. And I hate them for it.
I take a sip of the water, trying to regain my composure.
The patio of Vino & Vine is usually one of my favorite places. They have an incredible happy hour, and since my best friend loves it as much as I do, we try to meet up once a week.
And today, I need to see her.
I arrived early, hoping to have a chance to relax for a few minutes before Piper showed up, but the asshole’s text shattered my peace.
I momentarily squeeze my eyes shut against the headache that I’ve had all day.
Last night, sleep was impossible again because his awful kiss kept looping in my mind.
Even the bath I took at midnight and a third glass of cheap merlot couldn’t help me unwind.
I tossed and turned and then ended up oversleeping this morning.
Even though Derek had driven me to work, I’d still been late.
I was never more grateful for Elena’s reliability and the fact a full pot of coffee was waiting for me.
Because of what happened last night and Lucian’s wild assertions that I would be moving in soon, I assumed I’d have a message from him when I woke up.
My phone screen was blank.
I spent every break glancing at the damn device.
But there was nothing.
The silence gnawed at me, and annoyance twisted into anxiety as the hours passed in silence.
And now, this?
Wear our dress.
A familiar burst of laughter pulls me from my emotional spiral.
Piper’s face lights up when she spots me.
“Sophie Langford, you gorgeous creature!” She pulls me into a fierce hug the second she reaches the table.
I can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm.
After we hug, we both settle back in, and her gaze drops to my left hand where the sapphire-flanked diamond catches the sun. Her eyes widen comically.
“What the hell?” She grabs my hand, turning it so the stone flashes. “Oh my God. What is this?”
Heat floods my face.
I open my mouth, but thankfully the server appears.
We order the happy-hour charcuterie board and two glasses of the house pinot noir at the discounted price, and he vanishes with a polite nod.
Piper leans forward the instant we’re alone, elbows on the table, chin propped on her hands. “Spill. All the tea.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I have nothing but time.”
The server returns faster than I expect with the wine and a promise the board is coming.
I take a slow sip, buying myself one more second.
Before I can help myself, the words tumble out—Dad’s debt and desperate poker gamble, Mom’s treatments, the proposal, and the way I was used as collateral.
Piper’s expression cycles through shock and outrage. “You can’t get out of it?” she asks when I finally pause.
I trace the rim of my glass with one fingertip. And I finally admit to her the realization I’ve been fighting. “I don’t see how.”
After a fortifying drink, I tell her the rest, about Lucian wanting the wedding to happen within a month and wanting me to move in even sooner.
And because it’s Piper, I tell her about Caleb too.
“Dear God. Two husbands. That’s not even legal.”
The server delivers the charcuterie, and Piper lifts her glass the moment we are alone again.
“Well, I guess we can’t exactly celebrate your engagement.” Her smile is wry, eyes sparkling with the fierce loyalty that has defined our friendship since college. “So let’s drown our sorrows instead.” She clinks her glass against mine.
We both take long drinks.
Just then my phone vibrates against the table. I ignore it.
Piper’s eyebrow arches. “You should look. Could be important.”
“I’d rather not.” But I turn the device over.
There’s a new message.
Be ready to go by 7:45 tonight.
I slam it down.
Piper’s gaze flicks to the screen, her curiosity plain. “More demands?”
I nod, my headache spiking again. “They want me to be ready to go at seven forty-five.”
“Where?”
“They didn’t say.”
Another vibration cuts through the quiet. Before I can stop myself, I glance at it.
Brats get punished.
My heart lurches to a stop.
Piper snatches the phone before I can stop her, and she reads the screen. Her brows shoot up. “Sophie?”
I bury my face in my hands for a second, the memory of Lucian’s mouth on mine flashing hot behind my eyelids. “Yesterday, he had a garment bag delivered to me and told me to wear the dress to dinner.”
“And?” She puts down my phone.
“I didn’t.”
She toasts me with her glass.
“Then at dinner, he called me a brat.”
She pops an olive in her mouth. “Was he teasing? Or is he like a Dom?”
My mouth falls open.
Oh. Dear God.
No. No, no, no, no, no. No.
That can’t be possible.
“You don’t know, do you?”
When I don’t respond, she nods.
“It fits.”
I know next to nothing about that, except for reading a wildly popular book a long time ago.
“Tell me about when he called you a brat?”
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. “He seemed…” I trace the stem of my glass. “Unbothered?” No. That wasn’t the right word. “I don’t know. He might have smiled. He didn’t seem unhappy.”
“Lord, girl. I’d say there’s a good possibility he’s a Dom.”
I can’t deal with this.
“Do you know anything about bratting?”
“Bratting?” I repeat, frowning. “Is that really a word? Or did you just make it up?”
She laughs. “No. I didn’t make it up.”
Against my own better judgment, I lean forward a little.
“Some submissives misbehave on purpose to get a reaction from their Dom. A lot of them enjoy what they call funishment.”
“Funishment?” That can’t be a word either. I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality.
“Think of it as playful punishment. It can be an excuse for more intensity. Spanks that sting just right, being held down while they tease you until you’re begging.
But all of it is based on trust and clear boundaries.
There are safe words and check-ins. The power exchange can feel incredibly freeing.
With the right person.” She looks at me hard. “Or people.”
I’m stunned speechless.
My analytical brain tries to slot this new information into the friend I thought I knew—outgoing, bubbly Piper who drags me to trivia nights and complains about dating apps. “So you’ve done more than study it.”
“Why not? There’s an amazing dungeon right here in downtown Houston.
And the owner is…” She waves her napkin in front of her face, as if she’s going to swoon.
“Lord have mercy, that man is divine. And his eyes…” She touches a hand to her heart.
“I’ve never seen anything like them before.
Altair Montgomery. We call him Your Grace. ”
“I blink. You’re not serious right now.”
She crosses her heart. “I promise.”
“Is he actual British nobility?”
“I have no idea. And I looked him up online and didn’t find out anything about him. Until the last few years, there had been nothing written about him.”
“I don’t even know what to say right now.”
“Honestly it is kind of strange. But when I met him…” She trails off and looks into the distance before refocusing on me. “Look, Soph… If they are into that, make sure you have rock-solid boundaries and a safe word that stops everything.”
“A safe word?”
“Something that you say that will immediately stop all play.”
“Play?” Is that what people call it?
“And we call it sceneing. Like, you have a scene.” She grins. “And if you’re in public, you really are seen.”
Shuddering, I tighten my grip on my glass. I can’t imagine doing anything like that in private, let alone in public.
“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you. Maybe they’re not into that.”
Then Lucian’s statement returns to haunt me, and my hand trembles as I take a sip of my overly warm wine.
Brats get punished.
“I really didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” I lie. I’m terrified.
Brats get punished.
She pops another olive into her mouth as she updates me on her last couple of dates.
As I toy with a cracker, the conversation circles back to the wedding.
“They haven’t given you enough time to process this, let alone plan anything.”
I manage a small, tired smile, the wine softening the edges of my headache just a fraction. “Want to be my maid of honor?” I need her to be there.
Her entire face transforms. “Hell to the yes.”
My heart feels a little lighter. “Thank you.”
After the server drops off the bill, I send Derek a text, letting him know I’m ready.
Piper walks with me to the curb and hugs me tight again.
“So…” She drags the word out. “Are you going to wear the dress?”
For a moment, the question hangs in the air. “I have no idea.”
“Call me if you need a friend.”
I nod, and she waves as Derek closes me in the vehicle.
“Home, ma’am?”
“Is it okay if you call me Sophie?”
He meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am.”
We both grin. Maybe this driver thing won’t be all bad. “And I need to grab something from the office first, if you don’t mind.”
Half an hour later, I hang the bag on the back of my bedroom door.
With a steadying breath, I pull down the zipper and gasp.
The dress is a midnight blue that nearly matches Lucian’s eyes, and the silk shimmers under the overhead light. It’s designed to skim my body.
And he included matching heels.
My pulse jumps as practicality wars with stubborn defiance.
If I wear it, I step further into their world.
And if I don’t…?
Will I find out if he was serious about consequences?