Chapter 29 DUBAI REUNION
Chapter 29 DUBAI REUNION
HAYLEY
THREE DAYS LATER — DUBAI
I understand that everyone is entitled to their opinions, but the people who claim Dubai is overrated? Hell nah.
Throughout the drive from the airport to our fancy, five star hotel in Palm Jumeirah, I had to constantly remind myself to keep my mouth closed and not gawk like an inexperienced jigolo.
“The party is set to start by nine PM.” Mr. Davenport informed me while handing over the keycard to my private penthouse suite. “Your glam team will be here by 7. That gives you enough time to rest. See you in a bit, angel.”
Yes, we heard right. I got a penthouse suite all to myself, complete with an infinity pool overlooking the most gorgeous skyline, private lift entrance, spa-level bathroom, a private cinema and a kitchen with gleaming modern equipment that could make a chef weep tears of joy.
I spend my first thirty minutes exploring the suite and showing Scarlett around on FaceTime, then the next one hour soaking in the jacuzzi.
By the time my glam team arrives, I am well rested and ready to be a proper fake fiancé.
“What kind of look are you aiming for, madam?” My stylist asks.
I glance at my reflection in the mirror.
“Gorgeous enough to bring men to their knees.”
Her lips curve in a devilish grin. “I will make you happy you sat in my chair.”
I may have been joking when I asked the stylist to make me look gorgeous enough to bring men to their knees, but she sure as hell wasn’t playing around.
This is the third random man that has tripped and almost broken his nose after taking one look at me.
Dean and Peter are already waiting by the Rolls Royce when I finally make my way down. I looked forward to their reaction all evening, and they did not let me down.
Peter’s eyes widen in awe and admiration as I descend the short steps. Dean looks star struck. He hurries over, bowing slightly as he takes my hand.
“Even the stars in the sky do not hold a candle to your beauty, Miss Ferguson. You’re what men call “cruelly beautiful.” You will be the undoing of many men at that party tonight.”
The Davenport family spared no expense in the organization of this party.
Beside a glass edged infinity pool, a live orchestra plays against the glittering Dubai skyline, and impeccably dressed guests drift between the gold-lit terraces and gleaming marble halls.
Dean and I came armed with our script. We’re a lovey dovey couple who met at a coffee shop in London two years ago. We had our first date right there, and two weeks later, he asked me to be his girlfriend. Two years down the line and I’m set to become his wife.
It’s a love story written in the stars.
Thirty minutes into the party, we’re debating which tastes better between the Oscietra caviar and lobster medallions when Peter calls for our attention.
“Dean, Hayley, I’d like to officially introduce both of you to the family.”
I turn around, a bright smile plastered on my lips, ready to play my role to a T.
Then I come face to face with them. With him. And the world tilts on its axis.
My smile evaporates immediately, replaced by a tiny gasp of shock.
My body stiffens, a wave of heat rising up my spine as familiar steely grey eyes land on me, digging into my soul, branding my skin.
Just like that, five years vanish. Every memory, every sting of betrayal, every stolen moment of grief is condensed into that one, fierce stare.
Aunt Susan, Donatella, Victoria… they’re all here.
But the one person who holds my attention is the cold, handsome devil in a three piece suit.
My ex husband. Edward DaSilva.
EDWARD
For five years, I imagined the day I would see her again. And I never for a second thought it would be on another man’s arm.
Hayley DaSilva. My wife. My obsession made flesh. Mine.
The moment she walked into the room, I felt a shift in the atmosphere. I heard the whispers;
“Have you seen Dean’s fiancée?” Aunt Susan whispered to Victoria.
“Not really, but I know her dress is gorgeous.”
And I can confirm that gorgeous is an understatement.
Hayley is so beautiful, it physically hurts to look at her.
Her dress, pristine white, hugs her curves like a second skin, coupled with a slit that exposes the shiny skin of her left thigh.
Her long, luscious curls are packed in a ponytail high above her head, and the emerald necklace that decorates the smooth hollow of her throat matches her hazel eyes to perfection.
I took one look at her and felt the dead embers of my heart struggle to life.
Then I made the mistake of looking down, where her slender fingers were tightly entwined with Dean’s, and the part of me that hungered to spill his blood across the shiny marble floors roared to life.
“Edward, Susan, meet Hayley. Dean’s fiancée.”
The words settle in the room like a freshly detonated bomb.
Dean’s fiancée.
My fingers curl into fists and anger swims through my veins like hot lava.
She sidles closer to his side, pointedly avoiding my gaze, and I scoff internally as my plans begin to take shape.
Dean’s fiancée.
Not when I’m alive, she’s not. And not even when I’m six feet under.
Maybe she needs a little reminding. Hayley DaSilva seems to have forgotten whom she originally belongs to.