Chapter 52 52

Chapter 52 52
IRIS QUINN

Day of the gala…

The flashbulbs hit the car window before the door even opened.

Caesar stepped out, adjusted his cuffs, and held out a hand. I took it, feeling the dry heat of his palm against mine. The moment my heels hit the pavement, the world turned into a strobe light of white noise and shouting.

The cameras erupted the second I emerged with blinding white bursts that made me blink hard. I linked my arm through Caesar's and forced a smile as we walked toward the entrance where voices layered over each other with laughter, greetings and the low hum of orchestral music drifting from inside.

The hall was massive. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting warm light over marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Round tables draped in white linen filled the space, each centerpiece arranged with white roses and gold accents. A string quartet played near the bar, and staff in black uniforms moved smoothly between guests holding trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.

I felt eyes on us the second we stepped in.

James Kessler approached first, his hand extended. “Mr. Laurent. Mrs. Laurent. Good to see you both.”

Caesar shook his hand. “James.”

I smiled and nodded.

Julia Chen came next, wearing a smile that was supposed to look warm. “Iris, you look stunning.”

“Thank you, Julia.”

An older man I didn't recognize stepped forward. “Caesar. Congratulations on the marriage.”

“Thank you,” Caesar said smoothly. “Iris, this is Richard Hale. He sits on the board of Laurent Group.”

I extended my hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

He took it briefly, nodded, and moved on. As the greetings continued, I scanned the room from Aaron. No sight of him.

When there was finally a break in the crowd, I leaned into Caesar’s shoulder. “What if he doesn't show up?”

Caesar's eyes swept the room. “He’ll show. There's no way Aaron would miss something like this.”

I nodded, my throat tight as I glanced around to calm my mind.

“Would you like some champagne?” he asked quietly. “You look uneasy.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I am.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” He looked around, seemingly looking for the champagne he’d mentioned. “Just stick by me.”

“Stick by you,” I repeated quietly.

That couldn't be so hard.

He grabbed a glass from a passing tray and shoved it into my hand. I took a sip, the bubbles sharp against my tongue.

“Don’t look now,” he murmured, his breath hitting the shell of my ear. “Reporter to your left.”

I started to turn but his hand slid across my lower back, fingers spreading wide, holding me still. My breath caught and for a moment, I feared I would drop the glass.

“Eyes on me,” he murmured.

I looked up and he was right there. Close enough that I could see the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the way his pupils had dilated slightly and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“We need to look like we're in love,” he said, shifting his gaze to me.

I took another sip of champagne, praying this moment would end before I combusted. Sticking beside him was starting to prove difficult.

I gripped the glass, staring up at him, my heart doing a frantic double-time. “Is the camera gone? I can't keep this up much longer.”

Caesar started to answer, then went dead-still. His eyes shifted over my shoulder, the pupils blowing wide as his entire body turned to ice.

I followed his look and saw her.

A woman was moving through the crowd, heading straight for us. She was stunning with dark hair and a black dress that didn't leave much to the imagination. She didn't look at me once as she walked right into Caesar’s space and wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing me to drop his arm to make room.

“It’s been too long,” she purred.

Caesar sounded like he'd forgotten how to breathe. “Natasha. What are you doing here?”

“I heard a rumor you’d finally settled down.” Her eyes finally flicked to me dismissively. “Is this the girl?”

The way she said the girl made my jaw lock.

Caesar finally snapped out of it, stepping back and pulling me back to his side. “Natasha, this is Iris. My wife.” He looked at me. “Iris, this is—”

“His ex-fiancée,” she finished for him. She flashed a bright, perfect smile that didn't reach her eyes.

“Ex-fiancée,” I repeated flatly, unable to believe my ears.

Natasha's smile widened. “I hope Caesar told you about me?”

I looked at him. He was staring at a point just past her shoulder, his jaw so tight I thought it might crack. He said nothing.

“Apparently not,” Natasha said, sounding like she won something. She turned back to him, her fingers grazing the sleeve of his jacket. “So, the origin story. I have to know. How did you two happen?”

Caesar cleared his throat. “Germany. Business trip.”

“Germany,” Natasha echoed, like she was tasting the word. “How romantic. And it was love at first sight?”

“Something like that,” Caesar said.

I wanted to walk away and leave him standing there with his ex-fiancée and her perfect smile. But I stayed and I had no idea why.

Natasha's eyes slid to me. “And Iris, how are you finding married life? I imagine it's quite an adjustment.”

“It's fine,” I said.

“Fine,” she repeated, laughing softly. “How sweet.” She looked back at Caesar, her expression shifting into something intimate. “Do you remember that place in Prague? The one with the terrible wine but the view that made up for it?”

Caesar gave a stiff nod. “I remember.”

“We should go back sometime. For old times' sake.”

I almost scoffed, turning away for my own sanity. For old times’ sake? In front of his wife?

Natasha turned to me again. “Iris, what’s his drink now? Has it changed?”

I opened my mouth, but the answer wasn't there. I realized, with a sickening jolt, that I had no idea.

Natasha pressed her lips together. “You don't know?”

“We've been—”

“Whiskey,” Caesar cut in. “She knows.”

But the silence had been too long. The damage was done.

Natasha tilted her head, her voice softening into a fake, cloying pity. “I thought so. This is a setup, isn't it?”

“Excuse me?” I said.

“The marriage.” She gestured between us. “It's not real. It’s obvious. You don't know the first thing about him.”

Heat crawled up my neck. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Don't I?” Natasha’s smile turned sympathetic. “Caesar, you could have just told me. If you had to marry her to save her father's sinking ship, I would have understood.”

I stepped forward, my hands curling into fists but Caesar’s hand shot out, catching my wrist. “Natasha,” he said firmly. “That's enough.”

She blinked, the surprise actually looking genuine for once. “I was just—”

“No.” Caesar stepped slightly in front of me, cutting off her line of sight. “You were done. Stop.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear, throwing a look my way. “I didn't mean to offend.”

“Yes, you did.”

She looked between us, then sighed. “I see. Well, I’ll leave you two to... whatever this is.” She touched his arm one last time. “We’ll catch up later. It’s been too long.”

She walked away, her heels clicking against the marble. I stood there, my wrist still in Caesar's grip as my chest tightened with rage and humiliation.

“Let go,” I said.

He did.

I turned on him, pointing in the direction she went. “Ex-fiancée?”

“Iris—”

“You were engaged to her?”

“Yes.”

“And that wasn't worth a mention?”

“It wasn't relevant.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Not relevant. Right.”

“Iris—”

“I’m getting another drink.”

I walked away before he could stop me.