Chapter 20 THE arrival of kings
The house was transformed. The scent of the Sunday roast from the day before had been completely replaced by the fresh, citrusy aroma of the birthday brunch and the intoxicating fragrance of the lilies. The flowers had arrived only an hour ago—a massive, sprawling arrangement of white and violet blooms that seemed to glow against the lace tablecloth. The colors blended so perfectly with the decor that it felt as though the room had been designed specifically to hold them.
By 3:30 PM, the kitchen was silent, the heavy lifting of the cooking finished. Now, it was time for the final transformation.
In the living room, our parents sat on the worn but comfortable sofa, the television humming softly in the background. They weren't dressed in anything extreme; they wore their simple, best daily clothes—Dad in a pressed button-down and Mom in her favorite floral blouse. Between them sat Leo, looking like a tiny icon of high fashion in the Burberry two-piece Victor had sent. He was oblivious to the price tag, busy trying to feed a plastic dinosaur a piece of imaginary pancake, but the quality of the fabric stood out against our modest furniture like a beacon.
Behind the closed door of our shared bedroom, the atmosphere was thick with hairspray and sisterly secrets.
"Hold still, El," Maya muttered, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she pinned a loose curl into place. "If I mess this up, the Grinch might fire me from being your sister."
"He wouldn't dare," I laughed, though my heart was doing a nervous tap-dance.
Maya finished first. She had been vibrating with excitement to get into her new designer dress. When she finally zipped it up and stepped back, I actually gasped. The black fabric clung to her in all the right places, making her look sophisticated, sharp, and undeniably expensive. It was as if Victor had known her soul when he picked it out.
"Maya... you look beautiful. I can’t even stop staring at you," I whispered.
"You better stop, girl, because you need to finish up!" she teased, though her eyes were shining. "The guests will be here any minute, and you’re the star of the show."
I took a deep breath and reached for the crimson dress Victor had given me. Sliding into the silk felt like stepping into a different life. It hugged my curves perfectly, the deep red making my skin look like porcelain. I finished my makeup—a simple but bold look that emphasized my eyes—and stepped into the black heels.
Maya looked at me, her teasing expression softening into something deeply emotional. "El... you look stunning. I can’t believe you’re already turning into such a big girl. I hope the coming years are gentle and soft to you, darling. I love you. And I hope in whatever choice you make, you find someone who loves you as much as I do—or even more."
"Thank you, Maya," I said, my voice thick. "You’re going to make me cry and ruin my makeup before the party even starts."
We hugged tightly, a brief moment of quiet sisterly love before the storm, but the moment was shattered by a heavy, authoritative knock at the front door, followed by the sound of voices in the living room.
We both froze. My breath hitched.
"They're here, Maya," I whispered. I hurried to the bedroom door, cracking it open just an inch so we could peak out.
Through the gap, I saw them. Vane was the first person I noticed; he looked massive in our small hallway, dressed in a sharp blazer that struggled to contain his muscles. And there was Victor. He was in his chair, looking regal and entirely out of place in our humble living room, yet his presence seemed to pull all the oxygen toward him.
"Who is that with the Grinch?" Maya hissed in my ear, her eyes widening as she locked onto Vane. You could see the gears turning in her head instantly—she was already seeing a man for herself.
"That’s Vane. Victor’s personal trainer and therapist," I whispered back.
We watched as our parents greeted them. My father shook Vane’s hand with an impressed nod at the man’s stature, while my mother greeted Victor with a mixture of awe and motherly warmth. "Please, come in! Welcome to our home. Let’s head to the dining table."
"Girls! The guests have arrived! Come out of that room!" my mother’s voice called out, sounding a bit strained as she tried to navigate the sudden influx of "Old Money" energy in her house.
Maya and I looked at each other and suddenly, for no reason at all, we both dissolved into fits of silent, hysterical giggles. We leaned against the bedroom door, our shoulders shaking, hands over our mouths to stifle the sound.
"Girl, how are we supposed to go out there?" Maya wheezed. "Look at us! We look like we’re going to a gala or a red carpet event, and we’re just walking into our own dining room! It’s so dramatic!"
"Right?" I gasped, trying to catch my breath. "The heels alone are a statement. Okay, you go first. I'll follow you."
"No way, it's your birthday! You lead the way!"
We couldn't stop. Every time we tried to be serious, we would look at our designer outfits and the simple wooden door and start laughing all over again. The voices in the dining room had gone quiet, meaning they could definitely hear us.
"Can you two stop with the laughing and just come out already?" Mom shouted, her patience clearly wearing thin.
Seeing no other way out, I gave Maya a firm shove. She stumbled out of the door first, unable to contain her laughter. She literally busted into the dining room, her hand over her mouth, her eyes crinkled with mirth.
"Afternoon, everyone!" she managed to choke out between giggles as she took her seat, her black dress shimmering under the modest dining room light.
I followed her, my face flushed with a mixture of laughter and nerves. As I stepped into the room, my eyes immediately found Victor’s. He was already looking at me, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense. The laughter died down in my throat as the gravity of the room settled over me.
The table was set. The guests had arrived. The lilies were smelling sweet. But as I took my seat, I realized one thing with a jolt of pure adrenaline:
Liam wasn't here yet.