Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Luce leans forward, her hand on my thigh. Usually Jord would be in here with us, but he made sure to be there extra early to case the place out.
“You do, Ivy. More than anyone you deserve a little bit of what he gave you.” She rests back against the chair as he phone buzzes in her clutch.
She looks up at me from her phone. “It's Jord. Camille's there.”
As she should be.
The car slows, and I watch the château materialize through the windshield—all stone and pretension. It reminds me of Leon, in a way. I've never thought much about Leon this holiday until this moment. Until I've felt my emotions threaten to derail. Veilarath is a town that swallows secrets whole and never spits them back out. It's why I love it so fucking much.
Daniel kills the engine. The silence hits harder than the cold when I step out.
Inside, the château bleeds wealth from every surface—crystal dripping from ceilings, marble that's important from Europe. Bodies press together in designer gowns and tailored suits, their laughter like nails on a chalk board.
I grab champagne from a passing tray before anyone can notice I've arrived. The bubbles burn going down. Good. I need something to cut through the numbness spreading through my chest.
I chose a dress that keeps me blended, tight around my body, but the mesh lace offers almost nothing left to the imagination, yet enough to distort the parts of me that I don't want visible.
People don't bat an eye. It's what they see every day, even when husbands stare with hunger and their wives glare with envy. They'd throw me at their husbands like meat to starving dogs if it meant they could purchase the latest Tesla. I'd rather burn my eyeballs with a scalding pitchfork than be seen anywhere near a car that screams desperation louder than an under-fucked husband who plays with his own balls more than he touches his wife.
I dressed to torment. If tonight is going to be the last time I see Asher, I'll make sure my image is burned in his brain for years to come. At least while he’s fucking Camille.
Gag.
I turn, bored with the theatrics and forcing myself to stay grounded. Stick to the plan.
My body freezes, breath abandoning my lungs like a coward. I'm so used to seeing him in snowboarding gear or casual clothes that the suit knocks the air from my lungs. He still looks his age, but something about the way that Armani wraps around every muscle, leaving the two buttons undone at the collar, enough to reveal the ink that slithers the side of his throat. His hair falls in short careless waves, once again proving he doesn't need to lift a finger to be devastatingly gorgeous.
The sight of him steals something from me I didn't know I had left to lose.
My thighs clench when I focus on his lips, because I know exactly how they feel. How they branded his name over every inch of my body.
“Jesus, it's fucking hot in here,” Jord murmurs from behind his glass, but notices me not paying attention and follows my starved gaze. “Ah, I see. I must admit, the boy can slay a suit.”
“He can.” It’s a whisper, and I hate how weak it makes me sound.
Jord clears his throat, and I force my attention to him, every muscle fighting against the magnetic pull of Asher's presence. “I hate these things.”
Reality crashes back through me and my heart skips a beat. “Me too. Look at everyone.” We both stand as we examine the area. “Any possibles?”
“Nope,” Jord answers casually. “Except for your toy.”
“Stop calling him that,” I growl. If only he knew the truth, that I’m the toy, not him. Always have been.
Fuck.
Heat prickles my spine, and I know it's him.
“You look fucking impeccable, baby,” Asher's voice pours against the shell of my ear as his hand claims the spot Parker's tried to just an hour earlier. Fire ripples through my body, surrendering myself to him completely.
Luce's brow arches as she finds us tangled together. “Okay, so we're really not hiding it anymore?”
I peer up at Asher from below.
His grin cuts sharp and dangerous when he dismisses my best friend with a glance. “Do I look like the kind of man who gives a fuck about what any of these assholes think?” I don't remind him that we are kind of some of these assholes.
Lucinda clinks Asher's glass. “I'll drink to that.”
My vision blurs at the edges, not from the champagne but from the way his presence consumes. Every breath is a struggle, my lungs too tight, my ribs too small to contain whatever it is that I'm feeling. The world tilts, and for a second, I’m not standing in this room. I'm locked in a cage. The speaker crackles somewhere in the distance, announcing the start of the ceremony, but my head won't stop spinning.