Chapter 26 You Look Beautiful Tonight
YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL TONIGHT
Vera
“Vee? Are you there?” Saph’s voice shrilled from the other end of the phone.
“I’m here, sweetie. What’s up?” I asked, yawning loudly.
“Did I wake you up? You sound sleepy.”
“Yeah, I was napping.”
Saph chuckled. “Oh, you’re such a lioness.”
“Mmm, indeed,” I murmured.
“Vee, wait for it...”
“Oh, quit the suspense. Just spill it.”
“I’m a little nervous telling you this,” Saph gushed.
“For crying out loud, just say it.”
“I slept with your brother.”
“Oh, okay… wait a minute. What?”
“My boss donated a big sum of money on behalf of an anonymous philanthropist to the university’s archaeology department for a fundraising campaign,” Saph babbled. “I was asked to handle the media and attend the fundraiser dinner last night. Well, guess who was there?”
“Who?”
“Julian.”
“Okay, I want the short version of your story. I don’t need to hear all the details,” I said.
“At first, Julian and I started arguing, but then he kissed me, and then—”
“Skip that part, please.”
“Well, I’ve got huge love bites on my neck, and I’m feeling a little sore from—”
“Get to the point, Saph. What’s the story with you two?”
“I’m seeing him again.”
“Oop, hang on, babe, another call’s coming through. I need to grab this one, but I’m so happy for you both.” I squealed into the phone, grinning as Saph’s excitement bubbled through the line.
We said our goodbyes, and I switched over, the smile still tugging at my lips when the next voice hit my ear. Low. Familiar. Brotherly.
“Vee.”
“Jules, you sound chipper. What’s up?”
“Oriental lilies, orchids, or roses?”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“I’m at a florist. Need your help. Picking flowers for a special woman tomorrow.”
“Easy. Go with a mixed bouquet of roses. Different colors. Romantic and bold. Saph loves that.”
“Who said they’re for Saph?” Julian growled.
I smirked into the phone. “Please. I already know. Get her the roses.”
He exhaled, a smile tucked into the sound. “Thanks, Vee.”
“Hey, I’ve gotta run,” I chirped, the double beep cutting through Jules’s laugh. I ended the call and switched lines, half-expecting Sapphire to gush more about round two with my brother. “Saph—”
“Saph?” a gruff voice boomed through the line, low and heavy like a foghorn.
“Brenton,” I said, sitting up straighter. “What can I do for you?”
“The Scott family is hosting a fundraiser tonight for Saint Luke’s Cathedral. Alistair called personally, inviting a representative from our firm. Trouble is, it’s my wedding anniversary. I need you to go in my place.”
My gut tightened. “I’m sure there are others in the firm—”
“If I wanted someone else, I would’ve asked them.” His tone cut clean. “When a Scott extends an invitation, we show up. Can I count on you, Vera?”
“Yes,” I murmured, already regretting it.
“Good. Royal Mirage Hotel. Grand ballroom. Seven sharp.”
I swallowed. “Dress code?”
“It’s safer to overdress. You’re clever and confident, so I’m sure you’ll wow the room.”
“Thanks.” The unexpected compliment had me grinning despite the knot forming in my stomach.
Seven p.m.
I scanned the ballroom, picking out faces I’d only ever seen on magazine covers, news panels, and glossy TV segments.
Politicians. CEOs. Socialites who treated scandals like accessories.
Lester Harbor’s elite filled the room, at least two hundred of them packed beneath glittering crystal chandeliers.
Gilded mirrors bounced back the opulence, while the royal-red carpet carried the faint, sweet trace of rose petals, as if even the floor had been perfumed for their arrival.
The guests sparkled in designer gowns and tailored suits, laughter floating above the clink of champagne flutes.
Handshakes and polished smiles passed between them like currency.
I worked the room, greeting a few of the firm’s clients and slipping into polite, empty chatter from the weather to politics and Saint Luke’s Cathedral back when it was the city’s crown jewel.
A local band filled the background with familiar tunes, their rhythm smoothing over the hollow conversations.
I’d gone with a backless maxi dress, the deep halter neckline framing my cleavage just enough to draw eyes. Metallic-gold pleats shimmered every time I moved, catching the light and setting off my tan. My hair fell in loose waves over my shoulders, a soft contrast to the bold dress.
He’s here. The thought flickered through me, sparking a rush of heat that curled low in my belly.
I didn’t need to see him to know. I could feel it.
A shift in the air, the weight of someone watching.
Then a hand, broad and warm, pressed against the bare skin of my lower back. A jolt shot up my spine.
“Vera,” Alistair’s velvet voice slid close. “You look beautiful tonight.” His thumb traced slow circles against my skin, and when I turned, his mouth hovered just shy of my neck, daring me to close the distance.
My heart kicked hard when I finally looked at him.
The notorious player in a tux that fit like sin.
His cologne wrapped around me, warm spice and danger, and those green eyes locked on mine with a heat that left little room to breathe.
My fingers twitched with the urge to sink into the soft curls at his nape, but I forced myself back a step.
He followed, closing the distance, his body tipping toward mine until the space between us vanished.
“Ladies. Gentlemen.” Alistair’s voice slid into the circle, smooth and commanding. “I trust you’re enjoying the evening.” They lit up at him, eager nods all around. His hand brushed the small of my back as he added, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to steal this beautiful woman for myself.”
The group laughed and murmured their approval, their bobbing heads granting him permission as if anyone could stop him.
Sycophants. Thinking of my boss and the firm’s reputation, I gave a fake smile that would make Mona Lisa proud.
Alistair was the type of man who would say, ‘Jump,’ and more than half the guests would holler, ‘How high?’ I watched his eagle eyes sweep over my body while his lips quivered into a dirty smirk.
“You are a Greek goddess, Vera. You’re stunning tonight,” he complimented, taking me by the arm to a quiet corner. He spoke like a civil gentleman, but his eyes revealed he was hunting for a fuck, and I was his prey.
“So, we meet again, Mister Scott,” I said, eyeing him warily.
“You smell delicious. Edible,” he hummed, sneaking a kiss on my soft cheek. He brushed the back of his hand against my arm, caressing it. “Your skin is smooth and supple, as always.”
“We can’t do this,” I hissed. I wanted to take another step back, but I was already cornered, practically touching the wall.
“Why not? Hmm?” Alistair asked. A half-grin rested on his relaxed face.
“You have a fiancée,” I scolded, placing my hands on his chest to stop him from coming closer. “Mister Scott, I’m here on behalf of my law firm, and the last thing I want to do is embarrass my boss.”
Alistair laughed, his eyes pinning me with a glint of amusement. “Who do you think asked Brenton to send you here? If you believe he doesn’t know what’s happening between us, you don’t know him.”
“What?” The word tore out of me, sharp with shock. Heat rushed up my neck. “What did you tell him?”
Alistair’s grin was wicked. “That I plan to marry you.”
“Alistair Bryce Scott.” I hissed his full name like a warning. “Stop feeding my boss lies. You’re about to marry another woman. Where is she?”
“Haven’t you heard?” he asked, fingers toying with the curve of my waist.
“Heard what?” My quivering voice betrayed me.
“Do you trust me, Vera?” His tongue swept across his lower lip, a move calculated to undo me. Dangerous didn’t begin to cover him, and the worst part was that everyone knew it. Everyone but my traitorous heart.
Do I trust this playboy?
His hand slid lower, fingers grazing my hip, the touch branding. His gaze locked on mine, heavy and intoxicating. “Yes,” I whispered.
Mint curled from his breath, sweet and close enough to taste. His lips hovered, the world narrowing to that single point of almost… before he stepped back.
Reality slammed into me, leaving my pulse wrecked.
Am I a fool?
“I kicked Rebecca out,” Alistair said. He stood tall, legs braced, hands sliding into his pockets like he owned the room and me. The tux didn’t hide the fact that he was built like sin, radiating danger and control.
“What? My lips barely shaped the word, my eyes searching his for a tell.
“I’m a free man.” His hand found my elbow, light but grounding.
“I have to admit, I’m surprised.” My face flushed pink, and it wasn’t from champagne.
“Rebecca lied.” His jaw flexed, anger simmering beneath the calm. “I asked her about the night you and I met. She admitted to deleting your messages, your calls. Did it while I was in the bath.” He leaned closer, voice dropping. “I don’t share my space with strangers after sex.”
He reached for my palm, but I pulled away. He had fucked another woman in my darkest hour when I needed him most.
“You shared your space with me,” I said tightly. “Back when it was just a fling.”
Alistair scoffed. “A fling? That’s what you call it? That’s all I was to you?”
I held his stare. “We were never really a couple, were we?”
Silence stretched. His mouth opened, then closed.
“Were we, Alistair?” I pressed, refusing to let him hide behind charm.
“We have something I’m not willing to let go of. I shared myself with you because I felt safe.”
His words hit hard, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe. Emotions crashed over me, one after the other—anger, longing, betrayal, desire. Bloody hormones. I hated how easily my body betrayed me around him.
Alistair shifted closer, his hips brushing mine, his hands gripping my waist. His breath brushed my ear. “Have I ever lied to you?”
I shook my head, inching back, but he didn’t give me room. “I don’t want to be seen as the homewrecker who came between you and Rebecca.”
He caged me in with both palms flat against the wall, his body angled over mine. “You’re a flirt, Vera, but you’re no homewrecker.” His hand rose to cup my face, forcing my eyes to his. “The engagement is over. The news is already moving. My assistant handled it.”
“Why the change of heart after all these months?”
“Because now I know the truth. You reached out. You trusted me. And trust,” his thumb brushed my cheek, “is everything between us.”
Then, as if the floor hadn’t just tilted beneath me, he added, “My mother’s here tonight. I want you to meet her.”
I exhaled loudly. “Don’t you think that’s a little soon? I’m not—”
“You just have to say hello.” His hand slid down my arm, soothing, coaxing.
“That’s it?” I arched a brow.
“That’s it. Then we leave. I’ve booked us a room. Champagne, chocolate, and a few surprises. Breakfast in bed.” His smirk promised all kinds of trouble.
Of course, he’d planned it. Alistair Scott never left anything to chance.
Was I ready to hand myself back to him? My fingers brushed over the faint scars on my stomach, the ones that never let me forget.
They were reminders of the ugliness behind the polished wealth he represented.
And the threats that came with it. Saira. Erin. His world.
“Alistair, I don’t think so.”