Chapter 100 Adeline
Adeline's POV
The Whitmore family's Upper East Side townhouse was a show of old money and generational wealth.
I was no longer a stranger to the good life, but theirs was still something that amazed me.
As Percy and I stepped out of the SUV and handed the keys to the valet, yes, they had a valet! I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of the limestone mansion. This wasn't like the flashy wealth of the nouveau riche nor the sleek glass and steel that was becoming the modern rage, like that of Percy’s penthouse.
This house was all crystal chandeliers, oil paintings, and centuries of collecting original artwork. It was like a museum of wealth.
"Nervous?" Percy murmured, his hand settling warmly on the bare skin of my lower back.
He looked devastating tonight. He wore a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that highlighted the broad lines of his shoulders. Unlike the night when he put Eric in his place, he was charming tonight as was befitting the party we were stepping into.
"I'm not nervous at all. I've argued with federal judges. I should be able to handle a few snotty socialites."
"They are snotty, yes, but they are also very unpredictable, those socialites. You never know which part they're playing."
"Seeing as the party is in our honor, they'd better show me their good side."
"Zara would never let anyone bully you, so there's that. You have two strong backings."
I let out a soft laugh as the heavy oak doors were opened by a uniformed butler. We were immediately hit by the sound of a string quartet and the soft hum of wealthy laughter. It was like we had been transported into a 19th-century ballgown party.
The party they were hosting was an intimate, highly exclusive dinner party of about thirty people to quietly celebrate the sudden and completely voluntary retirement of Eric Weeks and to honor us who had seen to it.
"Adeline!"
Zara practically materialized from the crowd, looking like a vision in a stunning red dress. She threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.
"You made it," Zara beamed before stepping back to look at Percy. This time, her smile was respectful yet slightly teasing. "And you brought the muscle. Good evening, Your Majesty."
"Miss Whitmore," Percy replied dryly, though the protective warmth in his eyes betrayed him. His gaze flicked over Zara’s shoulder. "I see my shadow is already in position."
I followed his line of sight to find Alex already standing in a corner of the room. He looked like he belonged in his crisp black suit, but the dark expression on his face made it obvious that he was far from belonging in this setting.
He wasn't drinking or mingling; he only switched his gaze from the exits and Zara.
Zara flushed slightly. "He insisted on coming early to assess the perimeter. I think he just likes the hors d'oeuvres. Come on, my mother has been dying to meet the woman who saved our family."
Zara linked her arm through mine and guided us through the crowd toward the back.
Standing near the fireplace was a woman who commanded the room without saying a word. Evelyn Whitmore possessed the kind of beauty that came from a lifetime of no stress and perfect genetics. Her dark hair was styled in a sleek bun while she twirled a crystal flute of champagne with effortless grace.
"Mother," Zara called out happily. "They're here."
Evelyn Whitmore turned to us with a warm, welcoming smile. "Oh, finally. I have been waiting all evening to..."
The words died in her throat as we all watched her freeze. The effortless grace evaporated in a single second. Her eyes locked onto my face, widening so drastically I thought she might actually faint. She clutched the glass she had been twirling tightly in her hand.
"Mother?" Zara asked, her smile faltering in confusion.
Evelyn didn't hear her. She just kept staring at me as if I had two heads. Her chest heaved with a sudden, ragged breath as her eyes roved over the features of my face.
"Mom." Zara snapped at her impatiently. "You're freaking me out. What is it?"
"Good God," Evelyn whispered before taking an involuntary step toward me with her hand raised slightly in the air before she forced it back down to her side. "Genevieve...?"
It was my turn to be confused. Beside me, Percy instantly shifted so his body was between me and Evelyn, ready to defend me from what? We didn't know.
"Mrs. Whitmore?" I asked gently, offering a polite smile. "I'm Adeline. Adeline Volkov."
Evelyn blinked rapidly, as if physically shaking herself out of a trance. She looked down at her shaking hands before she suddenly flushed red with embarrassment. She quickly handed the glass off to a passing waiter.
"I... I am so sorry," Evelyn stammered, completely flustered. She pressed a hand to her chest, forcing a shaky, polite laugh. "Please forgive me, Adeline. The lighting in this room played a terrible trick on me. For a moment, you looked exactly... and I mean exactly... like my late mother, Genevieve."
"Your grandmother?" I asked, looking at Zara.
Zara looked just as bewildered. "I mean, I guess there's a slight resemblance in the bone structure, Mom, but Adeline is Russian."
"Of course, of course," Evelyn said, waving her hand, though her eyes kept darting back to my face. "It's just the stress of the week catching up with me. And you have her eyes. It startled me, that's all."
Evelyn took a deep, steadying breath before she reached out to take both of my hands in hers. Her grip was surprisingly tight and cold.
"Adeline," Evelyn said, her voice dropping to a fierce, desperate sincerity. "Zara told me what you did for us. What you both did. You stepped into the scene to protect my daughter when no one else would. You are a brilliant, brave girl, and the Whitmore family will forever be in your debt."
"Zara gave me a home when I didn't have one, Mrs. Whitmore," I replied softly, squeezing her hands back. "I was just returning the favor."
Evelyn smiled, but it didn't quite chase away the haunted look in her eyes.
"Please. Call me Evelyn. Any friend of Zara’s is family here."
The conversation shifted smoothly to Percy, with Evelyn thanking him for his discreet corporate assistance in the Eric Weeks matter.
Percy played the part of the polite rich man flawlessly, but I felt the calculative weight of his gaze. He was still bothered about her initial reaction. He just chose not to say anything about it.
As Evelyn excused herself to greet someone she saw across the room, Zara shook her head and muttered in embarrassment. "Sorry about that. She's been on edge since the extortion threats. She probably hasn't slept in a week."
"It's fine, Zara," I promised, taking a sip of the champagne she handed me. "It's a stressful time. I've been told I have a familiar face."
I brushed it off completely. It was just a coincidence, but as the party went on around us, I couldn't shake the unease I felt.
Evelyn Whitmore hadn't just looked at me like I reminded her of someone; she thought I was the someone.