49. Disaster pageant

Nervously wringing her hands together, Lydia sat in the back of her mom's sleek black Mercedes. Quietly peering between her parents from time to time as they drove to the Royal Monet Athenaeum. The place where the pageant was supposed to be held. Today.

Her stomach churned, for the millionth time thinking about that dreaded moment when her parents would finally see him. There, on stage. With her. Playing for her class' recital. She'd noticed that his motorcycle was still parked there, in his driveway earlier when they left but she was pretty sure that he would be soon arriving to the Athenaeum as well. He had to be. He'd left her bed pretty early this morning. Before her parents had woken up.

Her skin still tingled, every time she dared revisit last night's events. Those moments of pure passion they'd spent together. The way that he held her throughout the night. Caged. Embraced. Claimed. Skin on skin. With him still inside of her. His hand possessively wrapped around her breast. His face buried into her neck. His heartbeat in sync with hers.

*I love you...*

She swallowed, blinking before she averted her attention to the window at her side. Unseeing. That dull pain was still present in her chest. Flaring up whenever those three words echoed themselves into her mind. Uttered in his lust-addled voice.

She took a deep inhale of breath, forcing herself to stop thinking about it. And focus on the main task at hand for today. The pageant. Her performance had to be impeccable today, if she wanted to have any chances at getting in to the Institute in the foreseeable future. There were master academics from that very same place acting as the judging committee for this pageant. She had to catch their eye first, before she could even think about applying for a position there.

The grand and imposing building soon came into view, looming tall and proud with its greek-styled columns and sculptured ledges. The front gravel area was already packed with multiple fancy cars, varying from a vast range of colours. Her parents parked into the nearest available spot, the girl rushing to gather her purse, duffel bag and evening dresses. They were expected to attend a celebratory evening ball right after the pageant. The ball where the winning school was supposed to be announced. So she had came prepared. Leotard, spare clothes, make-up kit, and two evening gowns. All stuffed into her duffel bag. Excepting the two gowns.

She slung the duffel bag over her shoulder, carefully holding the two gowns over her other arm as she stood by the car with her parents. Both offering her encouraging smiles.

"I think you have to hurry, honey. There's only half an hour left until the first recital," her mother reminded her after a quick glance to her expensive wristwatch.

The girl quickly nodded, rushing to give them both a goodbye kiss before she ran to that secluded entrance at the left wing of the building. She knew exactly where she was supposed to go and what to do since their school had visited this place before on a brief instruction trip.

She ran to that glass door with a sign that said Staff Only, running her visitor badge over the reader before the door swiftly opened with a click. She stepped into the narrow corridor, wasting but a moment to better secure the gowns and that duffel bag that was already hanging so precariously over her shoulder. And with an agitated huff she continued her journey to her school's designated changing rooms.

Her canvas shoes squeaking over the marble flooring with every hurried step that she made and that rhythmical swishing of her gowns' protective bags were the only sounds accompanying her as she ran, passing through a grand foyer and then a winding set of stairs.

This building was actually part of Monet's vast chain of estates and edifices dedicated to culture and learning. And fancy couldn't even begin to describe it. Whoever owned this surely had to be filthy rich, given the fact that they all functioned into a private type of regime. Everything seemed to sparkle around her. From those golden swirls and patterns streaking the dusty brown marble beneath her feet to those glinting crystal chandeliers hanging from above. She'd even encountered some of the building's actual staff on her way to the changing quarters. And they were all equally presentable, their designated outfits looking so sharp and utterly impeccable. It all gave her such a royally elegant vibe. Like she had stepped into a blue-blood drama tv show. And the protagonists were just about to make their grand entrance.

**

Coffee in one hand, Lucy expertly manoeuvred her car, overpassing several others with reckless speed. Her movements fast and jerky as she operated the steering wheel and the blinker with the other. She even took a sip from her cup, blatantly ignoring all those angry honks and flashes she received in return. Her mom screaming for the whole time like a banshee from the front passenger seat as the car skidded a little as soon as she pulled back in her lane.

She threw her mom a rather flat and unimpressed look, letting out a yawn as she averted her attention back to the road. She really wasn't in the mood today. She had gotten a little over board with all those cranberry vodkas yesterday evening, and she'd spent the whole night struggling to stop her bed from spinning.

And to top it all that, the fact that det. Douchebag had treated her like a bratty little child for the whole evening wasn't helping either. If anything, it only added to her growing sourness. She was so sure that she was going to absolutely blow today. Her performance was going to be a complete disaster. A hot dumpster fire. She had barely managed to keep that headache under control with a mix of pills and lots of coffee, but that dizziness still lingered. Giving her such a hard time to properly focus.

Good thing she at least had managed to get to the right address, she thought upon noticing the tall and imposing building standing right before her eyes.

But she'd barely had the time to even realize that she had stolen another car's parking spot, recklessly pulling in at the same time as the other car's reversing light flicked on.

"I am honestly surprised that you haven't spilled that yet," she heard her mom utter from her seat with a disapproving tone, the girl immediately turning to make a face and repeat her mother's words back at her in a mocking and whiny voice.

Connie simply stared back at her and tsked, head lightly shaking. But the firm knock on her window had Lucy startling a little in her seat, head snapping in that direction. Just in time to come face to face with a pair of black dress pants. The outline of a male "package" so glaringly visible.

"Oh. How lovely. Now I can have my coffee with a view," she sarcastically muttered before rolling down the window, preparing herself to hurl a string of expletives at whoever had dared to bother her like this.

Except that her throat closed off as soon as the owner of that generous crotch lowered his body so that he could peek inside, a pair of striking blue eyes meeting hers.

Neither of them uttered a single word for the fraction of a second. Surprise glinting in both their gazes.

"Of course it had to be you," det. Hale mumbled with a scowl, lightly shaking his head with disapproval. Great. Now she had two people in her life to constantly throw her that look.

"Well, hello to you too, det. Douchey ass," she retorted with blatant disrespect, hearing her mom audibly gasp from behind her.

"Lulu!"

She ignored that with an eye-roll.

"You've stolen my spot, *Lulu*," det. Asshole commented with a raised brow, purposely using that same stupid term of endearment her mom had uttered.

"Oh, really?"

Det. Hale simply nodded in reply.

"And where does it say that it's yours? I haven't seen any signs around. Or did you actually pay online for it? Oh, poor you, you should totally file in for a refund," she commented with a mocking tone and a fake smile, earning herself a narrowed look from the detective.

But that smile faltered as soon as she watched him open her car door, the girl only getting to gulp before she suddenly found herself standing right before him, that large hand still wrapped around her arm as he held her trapped in between his hulking body and her car.

"Listen, *Lulu*,"

"You're hurting me."

The male blinked, stupidly staring between the girl's brown eyes for a moment. That meaty hand however quickly detaching itself from her slender arm as if it were on fire.

"Listen, you little-"

"I could have you arrested for assault, detective," the girl quickly interrupted his angered little rant, head cocking to the side in an openly defiant way.

"Or even obtain a restraining order,"

Det. Hale's dark brows furrowed, evidently lost for words as he glowered at the insufferable girl standing right before him. Anger and annoyance rolling off of him in waves. She didn't appear to be giving a single flying fuck though, brow raised as she stared up at him. Waiting for his comeback.

Seconds trickled, neither of them showing a single sign of backing down. The tall and broad-shouldered male looming over the young and fragile-looking girl like a dark shadow, ready to pounce whilst she simply stared up at him, arms crossed.

He abruptly let out an angered growl and the girl subtly smirked in reply, her heart though beating faster within her chest after that animalistic display of rage. It did actually scare her. But it had also turned her on.

"This isn't over," he pointed a finger in her face, those intense blue eyes practically throwing daggers at her before he swiftly turned on his heel and walked away.

If looks could kill...

"Oh, we're just getting started, baby," she sassily retorted as she watched him move that fine ass straight to where Julian was already standing, throwing det. Asshole a wink as soon as he paused and turned around to throw her an annoyed look.

The girl didn't fail to also notice that look of mild intrigue displaying on Julian's features as he had quietly watched that interaction between her and his father this whole time, into an observant way.

And they were both dressed to impress, by the way. Which could have only meant one thing. Det. Hale was going to attend the pageant. He was going to see her crappy performance.

"Shit."