02: Damsels in distress

•Odette•

I couldn’t hold it in. After the whole display of family reunion and arrangement of priorities, I cornered my father to confront him.

We stood on the balcony, far from the guests inside the mansion who were drinking and enjoying themselves.

“Dad, you didn’t tell me you were going to break off the engagement between Tristen and I. I felt like a fool just then. Why didn’t you—”

“I don’t have to tell you everything.” My father insensitively cut me off. I veered back because of his harsh tone.

“Dad…”

“The Montagues don’t want you anymore. Silvia is the one the betrothal was meant for.”

“And what about my new designs? Did Silver create them? Why is she the one getting to launch them?” I raised the volume of my voice, finding it hard to keep my anger in.

“So what? Silvia is my daughter. She’s a part of the company. Your designs are for the company. What matter is it if she’s in command of the collection?” Father countered.

My fists clenched at my sides. “It matters because I worked hard for them, and now, no one is going to know that they’re mine because Silver is going to be the face of it.”

“Silvia, Odette. Not Silver. And I don’t get your point. Don’t you realize that this is the least I can do for my child? All her life she’s been living on scraps and struggling to get by. Putting her in charge of the collection launch is just the start.”

“And having her replace me on the board is not the end.”

The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them. Allister looked at me like he wanted to smack me. He narrowed his eyes and stepped closer.

Lowering his voice, he said, “I hope it’s not jealousy that I detect from your tone.”

I didn’t say a word. The silence in the balcony was deafening. Father stared straight into my soul, peeling my skin with his eyes like he could see the hatred, bitterness, and general evil that filled my essence for Silver.

“It better not be,” Father whispered. Then he placed both of his hands on my shoulders, the weight pressing me down to the ground.

“Silvia carries my blood in her veins. There is no question about that. All that I give her is meant to be hers alone. The sooner you understand this fact, the better it would be for you.” Father removed his hands from my shoulders.

A word hung on the tip of my tongue but it didn’t come out. I watched as he turned his back to me and walked out of the balcony.

‘Why?’

Why should it matter that Silver has his blood and I don’t? I was the one who lived with him. I was the one who lived for him. All my life, everything that I’ve ever done was for the prosperity of the Valmont family.

How could my life’s efforts just be diminished to nothingness because we don’t share blood relation?

The tears that had been stinging my eyes since earlier finally cascaded down my cheeks.

“Fuck,” I moved to wipe my face but realized I wasn’t with a napkin. “Great.”

I had to dab my face with the back of my hand, and thank goodness for waterproof mascara.

A chill suddenly caressed my open shoulders, informing me that it was time to get back in. I blinked in the remaining of my tears, covered my face with my hair whilst keeping my head down, and strolled back into the mansion.

Everything happened so fast after that. My left heel chose to betray me at the worst possible moment and the world spun as I prepared to land on my butt like the failure that I apparently was.

Unexpectedly, I didn’t fall. A strong arm caught my waist in record time and the firm grip was used to balance me on my feet.

My hands were pressed against the hard chest in front of me as I steadied myself. “Thank you…”

I trailed off in shock after seeing the face of my savior. Striking upturned green eyes with lengthy lashes roofing them and inky-black hair that shaded the man’s slim forehead.

A jawline and face structure so defined that the carving must have taken the angels months to perfect.

My initial shock transitioned to hostility as I shoved the chest away, freed my waist, and stepped back.

“Mr. Lockwood, I wasn’t expecting it to be you.” My voice faltered as I spoke.

Fuck. Draven Lockwood was the worst ever person to bump into while looking like a hot mess that was about to explode.

I fixed my hair and tried to compose myself, but the wicked man had already seen me at my worst.

“I’m not really known for saving damsels in distress. But I couldn’t stop myself from reaching out to you in your moment of need.” Draven’s melodious masculine voice and the shrewd look on his majestic features erected the hairs on the back of my neck.

Draven ‘Steel’ Lockwood: A man that was as tough as steel and resilient enough to turn his family’s tech company into a multinational one in less than a decade.

He always got what he wanted. And always wanted what he didn’t have.

Everyone in the Upper East Side was fully aware that Draven was a wildcard who was not to be trifled with. Especially when he was taking the initiative to approach a person.

I wasn’t foolish enough to believe that he timely spotted me about to crash because of my heels and swooped in to catch me.

He wanted something. And currently, I had nothing to give.

“Right,” I pitched high. “Thank you for breaking my fall. I’ll be on my way—”

“Why’re you in a hurry?” Draven grabbed my arm, projecting heat from his palm to my skin.

My eyes went wide at the contact. I looked at him in alarm, he didn’t budge an inch.

“Mr. Lockwood, let go of me.” I kept my voice monotonous, trying to control my inner emotions.

“I haven’t wished you yet,” Draven whispered like he was telling me a naughty secret.

“Wish me what?” Fear crept into my tone unconsciously.

“Happy birthday.” He released my arm.

I startled, my breath caught. Draven smiled innocently, his eyes left out in the expression as it held a different vibe from the rest of his face.

“T-Thank you.”

“I came here with a gift, but I’m not sure you’ll like it very much. I want to offer you another right now.” Draven came closer to me, filling my personal space with his thick mint coffee scent.

“No, thank you. I don’t need an extra gift.”

“Don’t refuse me yet,” Draven’s eyes suddenly darted to the right and remained there.

I followed his gaze to see that he was staring at Silver whose hand was wrapped around Tristen’s arm as they conversed with Annabelle and Allister.

My chest was set aflame by the sight that I forgot to school the bitterness in my expression.

Draven closed up to me, his mouth hovered by my ear. The little distance between our bodies warmed me up like fire. His hot breath against my skin sent tingles down my spine as he whispered temptingly.

“I hate seeing wasted potential more than anything, Odette Valmont. Count your losses and send them to me.”

The heat between us died in an instant as Draven stepped away. He looked at me with an unreadable gaze, then smiled casually.

I watched him walk away and disappear into the crowd, leaving me in a daze.

What the hell did he mean?