Chapter 37
Natalia Asterdam is celebrating her fifty-fifth birthday! The world-famous fashion designer is expecting more than two hundred guests at her villa—including members of the British Royal Family!
Excerpt from a lead article in the INsider
Grace
I tried to hide my nerves as Wallace parked the limousine outside the Asterdam villa a few days later.
Ninety percent of my apprehension came from the hope of finally exposing my sister’s killer tonight, and ten percent from the fact that I’d never attended such an elegant event before.
OK, maybe it was more like a seventy-twenty split, with the remaining ten percent stemming from the fact that this was the first time I’d officially appeared in public with Ethan.
The only people who knew I was going to be his date this evening were Henry and Kate, who were riding with us in the car.
They had originally planned to skip Natalia’s birthday gala, but changed their minds when they’d found out that Ethan and I would be there.
I was grateful. Not only did I now have two allies at my side who approved of my relationship with Ethan, but thanks to Kate, I also wasn’t the only outsider.
“Ready for mind-numbingly dull conversations about investments and dick-swinging contests in the form of who went on the more deluxe skiing holiday?” Kate asked, downing the glass of champagne Henry had poured for her at the start of the ride.
The Asterdam villa was situated outside the city in Surrey, one of the priciest areas there was.
Million-pound estates stood side by side, making the Darlingtons’ penthouses seem almost modest in comparison.
Wallace opened the car door for us, and Henry helped Kate get out while Ethan helped me.
I had to admit, we were a pretty attractive group.
With their broad shoulders and black tuxedos, Henry and Ethan were a vision of smouldering temptation.
Kate wore a floor-length gown, her hair swept back elegantly, with expensive diamond studs in her ears.
She had told me she still felt uneasy about all this luxury, but by blending in with high society, she drew less attention and spared Henry and herself nasty gossip.
And it was crucial to fly under the radar right now.
Contrary to my original plans, I hadn’t opted for the red dress from my aunt’s wedding.
Instead, I wore a designer piece by Natalia Asterdam herself.
Its shimmering gold fabric hugged my body like nothing I’d ever worn before.
It had a halter neck and reached down to my ankles.
I had paired the dress with high heels, also metallic gold.
The cheapest part of my outfit was my gilded rings, though I only wore two on each hand for a minimalist, elegant look.
Like Kate, I didn’t feel entirely comfortable in all this luxury, but Ethan and I had agreed it would be best to keep a low profile tonight.
At any ordinary party, I would have drawn attention in this outfit, but here I blended effortlessly with the crowd.
I linked arms with Ethan, and together, we climbed the steps to the entrance. The Asterdam villa reminded me of a palace, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if, at any moment, a member of the royal family appeared before me.
The doorman welcomed us and opened the door to an imposing foyer.
Inside, someone took our coats before a waiter offered us flutes of champagne.
Kate and Henry helped themselves, while Ethan and I declined: Ethan to avoid slipping back into old habits, and me to keep a clear head for the mission.
Another staff member led us through the foyer to a hall where the birthday gala was taking place.
Elegantly sweeping arches framed the room, and the floor was laid with pale marble.
I was used to luxury and opulence at The Darlington, yet I still found this villa impressive and a little intimidating.
It was a private residence for a single family, after all, and not an entire hotel.
“You should shut your mouth if you don’t want people to notice you,” Ethan murmured in an amused voice, placing a hand between my shoulder blades.
I wanted to cast him a scathing look, but I already knew I couldn’t pull it off.
He looked far too good in his tuxedo. Ethan’s hand slid down my spine to the small of my back, where he applied gentle pressure to nudge me on from where I stood frozen in the doorway.
A domestic employee led us through the hall and showed us to our reserved seats.
To my surprise, we were sharing a table with Olivia Asterdam.
At least she and Henry were good friends.
“Where’s James sitting?” Ethan asked after greeting Olivia and introducing us.
She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen.
Perhaps the most beautiful woman. She had delicate features, full lips, and flawless skin, as if a soft-focus filter had been applied.
Her blond hair was styled into an elegant updo that accentuated her long, swan-like neck.
She looked like a real-life Barbie, especially in her pink dress.
“He was banished to the bachelor table with Charles, Nate, and a few others,” Olivia replied, gesturing in their direction.
I recognised Ethan’s friends immediately.
I hadn’t seen them often, but every now and again, I’d caught them hungover in his flat.
Then Olivia turned her attention to me. “How did you two meet?”
I glanced at Ethan, not sure whether we should tell the truth.
But he was already answering. “We’ve known each other for a while.
Grace works for The Darlington, but we ran into each other at a club, which somehow changed everything,” he said with a smile.
And it was true—the night at the club, and especially the ride home, during which I’d told him about my investigations, had been a turning point for our relationship.
“How beautiful that fate was on your side,” Olivia said dreamily, before asking Kate about the progress of the Hope Harbour construction project.
I joined in the conversation for a while, but after a few minutes, I tuned out and started scanning the room.
There were at least two dozen tables seating six to seven guests each.
My eyes searched the room for the man who was the reason I was there, but I couldn’t spot Claude Asterdam.
However, other faces caught my eye: Princess Matilda, Rupert Carrington, Isabella Kensington.
I also saw Mrs. Darlington, though without Mr. Darlington, sitting at a table with cabinet member Eddington and the birthday girl, Natalia Asterdam. But there was no sign of her husband.
“I take it you didn’t tell your mum about us,” I whispered to Ethan. While Mr. Eddington and the designer were deep in conversation, Mrs. Darlington was glaring daggers at me.
“No, I thought I’d save the drama for another time.”
I grunted and tried to ignore Mrs. Darlington’s piercing stares.
I had taken tomorrow off to process whatever this evening would bring, but I was already dreading having to don my maid’s uniform and face her on Monday.
I knew what Mrs. Darlington was like and what she thought about Henry’s relationship with Kate.
My gut told me that she would judge me even more harshly, given the special connection she shared with Ethan.
I quickly pushed the thought of Monday and Mrs. Darlington out of my mind. I had more important things to focus on—like Mr. Asterdam. Where was he?
“Good evening” came a velvety voice from behind me.
I looked up, expecting to see one of the waiters, but instead, I was met with the leathery face of Claude Asterdam.
No wonder I hadn’t seen him: He’d been sneaking up from behind.
My muscles tensed, and my pulse skyrocketed instantly.
This was the man likely responsible for Amy’s death.
We didn’t know for sure yet, but all the signs pointed in that direction: His attendance at the Pearl Gala, his friendship with Mr. Darlington, and above all, the fact that he’d sold his Rolls-Royce shortly after the accident.
He smiled at his daughter before greeting Henry and Kate. Then he turned to Ethan and me.
He extended his hand to Ethan. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in ages. I think the last time was at the Pearl Gala.”
“The last university term kept me very busy,” Ethan replied, his tone polite but hollow, betraying no real emotion. “Otherwise I’m fine, thanks for asking. I’m glad to be here tonight.”
“We’re glad to have you,” Mr. Asterdam replied. “And who is your charming companion?”
He turned his full attention to me. I hated it. Part of me wanted to look away—it felt almost unbearable to stare at the man who had probably been the last person to see my sister alive—but I held his gaze. There was no way I was going to miss his reaction when he recognised Amy’s face in mine.
Yet his smile remained perfectly friendly.
“This is Grace Claymore,” Ethan introduced me.
I expected the mention of my surname to trigger something in him, but there was no reaction. Either he was a brilliant actor, or Amy’s death mattered so little to him that he’d already forgotten her.
He extended a hand to me. Not wanting to rouse his suspicions, I took it. His fingers were warm and slightly sweaty, probably from all the handshaking.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Claymore.”
“Likewise,” I replied, forcing a smile.
He wished us a nice evening, then disappeared as swiftly as he had appeared to greet the guests at the next table.
Ethan gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. In that moment, like in so many moments before, I was unspeakably grateful to have him by my side. Without him, I was sure I wouldn’t survive this evening.