Enter, Mistress

Elara

“Celia is coming back?” the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it. I hated how weak and stupid I sounded, but I couldn’t take it back. 

Louis gave me a look like I was daft. He probably thought I was and that was why he never took me seriously. I’d spent three years trying to read Louis Valmont, and I was no closer than the day I’d met him.

“Yes, Celia is back. You know she has been abroad. Her father insisted she finish her degree before…” He trailed off, as if the rest of the sentence didn’t need saying. Before she moved in. Before she took her rightful place by his side as the love of his life.

Celia Thorne. For some reason, my mind kept circling back to her. I’d only seen her in photos and interviews on television, but everyone in our circles knew Celia Thorne – beautiful, classy, utterly devoted to Louis in a way that made me feel like an intruder in my own engagement. 

“You’ll have to keep this from my grandfather, of course. I’ll pay you, if I have to.” Louis’s voice pulled me back. "Our wedding is still on schedule. And you still need to attend the gala that’s taking place in two days just to keep up the image for my grandfather. This is just… a temporary arrangement.”

A temporary arrangement. Three years of my life, reduced to a temporary arrangement.

I looked at him, trying to find the boy I’d once loved. The one with the sunny smile who had danced with me at that party. The one who had proposed two weeks later, sweeping me into a world of glitter and privilege I’d never imagined.

He’d shown me that world. And then he’d locked me out of it.

Somewhere along the way, that boy had disappeared. Or maybe he’d never existed at all. Maybe I’d simply imagined him because I needed to believe that someone, somewhere, could love me.

I took a breath. Then another, trying to find an emotion to hold on to in the storm that swept through me.

“Louis.” My voice was steady. Good. Let him hear that I could be steady. “In three years of engagement, was there ever a moment – even one – when you loved me?”

The question hung between us like a thread that was about to snap.

Louis’s body went still. For just an instant, his eyes I watched him search for an answer, and I realized with a clarity that cut deeper than any physical wound: he had to search. There was no answer ready. There never had been.

Then the ice returned, harder than before.

He smirked and raised a brow. “What do you think?”

I saw it all at that moment. The mockery in his eyes. The curl of his lip. The utter certainty that my question was laughable, that I was laughable, that I had always been laughable for hoping. I wanted to say that I asked the wrong question. I should have asked what I did for him to hate me so much.

Instead, I laughed too.

The sound surprised both of us, I think. But I couldn’t stop it. For the first time in three years I felt like the fool he’s been seeing me as. 

“A hotel,” I said when the laughter finally died. My voice was calm. I barely recognized it. “Fine. I’ll be out by morning. I wish you luck with your… mistress.”

His expression shifted. There was a flash of confusion, maybe, suspicion, I couldn’t tell. But I didn’t wait to find out. I walked past him, out of the bedroom, down the hall to the guest room where I’d spent most of my nights.

Once inside, I closed the door and leaned against it, my body sliding slowly to the floor.

Three years ago, I’d been stupid for wanting a man who never wanted me. I’d been delusional and told myself that with time he’ll come around. He’ll love me and everything will be alright, but I was wrong. 

I was wrong and stupid. 

I was still feeling sorry for myself when my phone pinged with an incoming message from my grandmother.

Grandma: I know you don’t want to hear this, but Mr. Thorne reached out to me again. He wanted me to let you know that he’s in town and he’ll love for the both of you to meet. I understand you don’t want this arranged marriage, but think about it Lara. Louis still hasn’t married you, and… I think you should just meet with him and see what this leads to. Love, Mabel. 

I sighed as I read through the message, then read it again and again. Although my parents had quickly accepted my wishes to marry the Valmont heir three years ago knowing it would improve their social standing, my grandmother had never really been in support of the union and she never failed to tell me. 

Six months ago, she’d gone out of her way to arrange an arranged marriage for me with another man when Louis postponed our wedding date again for the twelfth time. 

According to Grandma, the man she wanted to link me up with was just as rich and powerful as the Valmont’s but I’d stubbornly refused. I still held hope for me and Louis, but now, that hope was flickering. 

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath in and began typing back a reply.

Me: Fine, Grandma. I’ll do this for you. Tell the man I’ll meet him and send me the date and location. Love you.

After hitting the send button, I slumped back on the floor and bawled my eyes out. I cried for a long time before finally falling into a restless sleep. When I woke up barely thirty minutes later, there was a text from an unknown number on my screen.

Unknown: Mrs. Dubois just gave me your number. Thank you for considering my request. I’ll text you the time and venue for our meeting and look forward to seeing you. Yours, A. T.

I stared at the message for a long time. Grandma sure was fast, was all I thought as I pushed myself off the cold floor and began packing my things. Louis had been clear when he said he wanted me out of his house by tomorrow and I was going to leave. 

I packed quickly, took a quick bath and changed into casual clothes. By the time I emerged from the guest bedroom, Louis was nowhere to be seen but I didn’t let that bother me. Over the three years of our relationship there was one thing that was consistent with him. 

And that was his devotion to his company. 

He was a workaholic. A man who had clear goals and worked towards it. 

I had to admit, that had been one of the things that pulled me to him. The other one was – 

I startled as the front door flung open just as I approached it and the same woman I’d seen only in pictures stepped inside. 

I frowned, my brows tightening together. “Celia?”