Chapter 7: The Dinner

“Now that I think of it, this is a bad idea,” Adrian said, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel as he tried to reverse the car.

I whipped around in the passenger seat, staring at him in utter disbelief. “Are you completely out of your mind? It took me three solid hours to pull this glam together. There is absolutely no way we are backing out now.”

He gave me a long stare, one that sent a ripple of heat through me despite my irritation. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted over me, lingering just a little too long on the plunging neckline of my black dress.

The dress was gorgeous, but inside, my chest was hammering against my ribs.

“You look absolutely ravishing,” he said, his voice dipping low. “Although,” he added, his lips curling into a wicked smirk, “I think you’d look even better without all of it.”

My cheeks burned, and I tugged at the edges of my dress to cover myself.

The truth was, I was utterly terrified. The bravado I’d had was completely fake.

“Focus, Adrian,” I whispered. “I... I need to be honest with you. I only offered to come on pure, reckless impulse back at the cafe. My brain was completely short-circuiting because of what Damian said to me in the office. But now? I’m completely sick to my stomach. I'm so nervous.”

Adrian’s smirk faded, replaced by seriousness.

“Look at me,” I mumbled, gesturing weakly to my own body. “I’m not some petite, bone-thin high-society girl.”

Adrian stared at me for a long, quiet moment. Then, he unbuckled his seatbelt, leaned across the center console, and cupped the side of my face with his warm palm. His thumb gently stroked my burning cheek.

“Let me make something entirely clear to you, sweetheart,” Adrian murmured, his eyes locking onto mine. “You have a breathtaking, incredible body.” He kissed my forehead. “Are you sure about this? If you want to turn around, we go back to my penthouse right now and I’ll take care of you. It’s not too late.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, his words completely washing away the icy dread in my chest. Reclaiming my spine, I nodded firmly. “No. We’re doing this.”

He let out a low, dark chuckle, shook his head like I was the crazy one, and slammed his foot on the gas, pulling the car up the winding, perfectly manicured driveway.

The house loomed ahead, its lights spilling golden onto the well kept lawn. It was the kind of place that screamed wealth.

Adrian parked and stepped out, circling the car to open my door. His hand extended toward me. I hesitated only briefly before placing my hand in his.

So this is what it feels like, I thought bitterly, to actually be treated right by a real man.

The walk to the door was short but nerve-wracking. My heels clicked against the pavement, the only sound in the still air. Adrian rang the doorbell.

Nothing.

He waited three seconds, his jaw tightening, and rang it again, harder this time.

I leaned closer into his side, lowering my voice into a whisper. “Are you sure they’re even home? Maybe they saw your car and locked the doors.”

The sharp clicking of heels on tile answered me.

The door opened to reveal Lucia, Damian’s mother, standing in all her glory. Her blonde hair pinned into a sleek updo, her dark red lips curved in a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. The kind of woman who could gut you with a smile.

Her eyes landed on me, scanning me from head to toe with a disdainful look. When I had dated Damian, this woman had barely even acknowledged my existence. She had looked right through me like I was a piece of cheap paneled glass, completely unworthy of her breath. I wasn't even sure she had ever bothered to learn my actual name.

Now?

Her red lips curved into a slow, venomous sneer. “So the rumors from the office are true,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “From the son’s bedroom straight to the father’s. Quite a desperate little leap, I must say. I suppose when you’re drowning in debt, you’ll take whatever Blackwell hand feeds you.”

Adrian’s grip on my waist tightened as he prepared to bark a command, but I stepped forward before he could utter a single word. I wasn't that scared girl anymore. I matched her sharp, fake smile with a cold, brilliant one of my own.

“More like a massive, undeniable step up,” I said smoothly, looking her dead in the eye. “I finally figured out the difference between a boy and a real man who actually built the empire you're currently living off of.”

Lucia’s perfect smile instantly wavered, her nostrils flaring in raw shock. But before she could spit a retort, Damian appeared directly behind her in the grand foyer. The second his eyes locked onto mine, his entire face turned a violent, murderous shade of crimson.

He took one look at us—at Adrian holding my hand.

“So you actually brought this charity-case slut into our house, Dad,” Damian spat. He stepped forward, spittle flew from his mouth as he sneered down at me. “To my fucking engagement dinner? You brought this fat, trashy gold-digger to humiliate me? I shouldn’t have invited you at all. Get her out of here!”

“Insult her one more time,” Adrian threatened, “and I’ll consider cutting you off my will.”

Damian’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly, looking exactly like a fish out of water. He didn't dare utter another syllable, his face flushing a humiliated purple as he desperately searched for a comeback that wouldn't completely bankrupt his future.

“Now step aside, Lucia,” Adrian said smoothly. “Since I am the one who fully paid for this house, the land it sits on, and the clothes on your backs, I’d actually like to go inside.”

Lucia’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear her teeth grind, but she stepped backward her eyes burning holes into my face.