Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Today was the event.
:
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The charity gala Marcus had mentioned days ago. The one for homeless children and orphanages. The one where she’d officially step into the public eye as his fiancée or girlfriend or whatever the media decides.
Elara stood in the guest bedroom surrounded by a team of stylists who’d arrived two hours ago with racks of dresses and cases full of makeup.
They’d chosen a gold dress. Backless. The fabric hugged every curve like it had been sewn directly onto her body. A built-in corset pushed her breasts up and together in a way that made them look twice their actual size.
One of the stylists knelt beside her with a bottle of shimmering oil. “This will make your skin glow under the lights.”
She rubbed the oil across Elara’s shoulders. Down her back. Across her collarbones. Along the tops of her breasts where the dress dipped low.
Elara stood still and let them work. Let them transform her into someone that looks like they belonged in Vogue magazine.
Another stylist worked on her hair. Pulling it back into an elegant updo that showed off the bare skin of her back. A few strands left loose to frame her face.
The makeup took forever. Foundation. Contour. Highlight. Eyeshadow in gold and bronze. Liner that made her eyes look bigger. Lashes that felt heavy every time she blinked.
“Done,” the lead stylist said finally. She stepped back to admire her work. “Look.”
Elara turned to face the full-length mirror.
She barely recognized herself. She was very beautiful.
charity galas and high-society events.
The woman staring back looked expensiv
Like someone who belonged on Marcus Thorne’s arm at
Not like the girl who’d been scraping by a few weeks ago. Dodging debt collectors. Skipping meals to save money. Living in an apartment with a broken door and no heat.
How did she get here?
The stylists were gushing now. Talking over each other.
“You look stunning.”
“Absolutely gorgeous.”
“Mr. Thorne is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”
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Chapter 31
One of them handed her a pair of heels. Gold. Strappy. At least four inches tall.
Elara slid them on. Her feet already hurt.
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She grabbed the matching clutch from the vanity. Small. Barely big enough for her phone and lipstick.
“We’re done,” the lead stylist said. “You’re perfect.”
They packed up their supplies and left. The room went quiet.
Elara stood alone in front of the mirror. Staring at herself, an extra boost of confidence emerged.
She heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy one, obviously it was the Devil himself.
Marcus appeared in the doorway.
He wasn’t wearing a suit.
Instead he had on a short-sleeved button-up shirt. Crisp. Cream colour. Three buttons undone at the top showing just enough chest to make her mouth go dry. Dark pants that fit him too well. Hair styled back but not overly done.
He looked up at her.
His eyes went to her face first. Then dropped. Down to her breasts pushed up by the corset. Down to her bare legs in those heels. Then back up to her breasts again.
Elara caught him staring. She wanted him to keep looking. Liked the way his jaw tightened slightly. The way his eyes darkened.
But he stopped. Cleared his throat. Held out his hand.
“Come down.”
She walked carefully. The heels made every step feel precarious. Like one wrong move and she’d tumble down the stairs.
Marcus didn’t move. Just watched her descend. down? No idea.
sexpression when
ard to read. Was he impressed? Was he let
When she reached the bottom step, they were eye level. Almost. The heels gave her enough height to look him directly in the face.
“You look…” he started.
“Okay?” she finished sarcastically.
“No.” His voice came out rougher than usual. “Sexy, Sorry. Gorgeous.”
Heat flooded through her.
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Chapter 31
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“This is it,” Marcus said after a long pause. “After tonight, you’ll be public. In the spotlight. Cameras. Questions. People dissecting everything you do. Are you ready?”
Elara swallowed hard. “No. But do I really have a choice?”
“Not really.”
“Great.”
His mouth lifted slightly. Almost a smile. “You’ll be fine.”
He led her outside to the garage where a car waited.
Not a Mercedes this time. A Lamborghini.. Black.
Marcus opened the passenger door. She climbed in carefully. The interior was insane, black and maybe mustard yellow on the seats.
The dress was tight enough that sitting was a challenge. She had to adjust the fabric twice before getting comfortable.
He closed her door and walked around to the driver’s side.
The engine roared to life. Loud. Powerful.
They pulled out of the garage and onto the street.
The entire car was quiet.
No music. No conversation. Just the sound of the engine and Elara’s thoughts spiraling out of control.
She’d never been in the spotlight before. Never had cameras pointed at her. Never had strangers analyzing her outfit or her hair or the way she smiled.
What if she messed up? Said the wrong thing? Tripped in these ridiculous heels?
What if people saw through the act? Realized this whole thing was fake?
Her breathing got faster. Shallower,
Marcus noticed,
His hand left the gear shift and moved to her thigh. Warm. Steady. Then he found her hands, and laced their fingers together.
Elara’s body reacted immediately,
Heat pooled low in her stomach. Her skin felt too tight. She wanted more. Wanted his hand to move higher. Wanted him to pull the car over and touch her properly instead of this careful, controlled version of affection.
But he didn’t.
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Chapter 31
Just held her hand. His thumb rubbing small circles against her palm.
It helped. Somehow. The panic receded slightly. Her breathing slowed.
The car began to slow down.
Elara looked up.
Flashes.
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Paparazzi lined both sides of the entrance. Cameras raised. Shouting names she couldn’t make out over the
noise.
They’ve arrived.
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