Chapter 12 The art of becoming
CHAPTER 12: The art of becoming
Vera
The expansive bathroom was filled with steam and smelled faintly of lavender when I finally turned the water off.
My heart was still racing.
I stared down at the dress clutched in my hands. Silas’s driver had delivered it earlier that evening before he drove me here.
It was a beautiful expensive silk dress in a soft blush colour.
Now, the pale fabric was ruined with a dark, ugly wine stain spreading like a bruise across silk, all because of my clumsiness.
No amount of scrubbing had helped. If anything, it had only made it worse. The material looked crumpled and messed up.
I swallowed, wrapping the bathrobe tighter around myself before opening the door, the ruined dress in my grip.
The moment I stepped into the bedroom, I froze.
Silas was already there.
He stood near the window, jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, and top buttons undone to reveal a decent expense of smooth skin.
His presence filled the room in a way that made the air feel heavier.
I quickly averted my gaze to avoid being caught gawking when he turned slowly.
I was aware of how his gaze dragged over me slowly, no doubt surprised by my choice of outfit, then dropped to the dress in my hands.
“What happened?” he asked.
The question was calm. Too calm.
I was surprised he didn't raise his voice.
“I—” My voice faltered. I cleared my throat, heat creeping up my neck.
I twisted the ruined dress nervously.
“I’m so sorry. I was… clumsy,” I admitted, although the right word was ‘nervous’. “I spilled a glass of wine on myself. On the dress.”
He looked at the dress in my hand. His brows drew together slightly.
“Wine?” he repeated.
“Yes,” I said quickly.
I was shocked by the splendour and understated luxury and elegance of the mansion. I had never seen a house that grand before.
My nerves about what was going to happen that night caused me to spill the wine on myself even before taking a single sip.
“They brought food while I was waiting and I…I wasn’t thinking. I just—”
I tried to step back and my elbow knocked into the side table as I shifted nervously.
The bottle tipped.
Time slowed.
Glass shattered against the floor, sharp and violent, fragments skittering across the marble floor.
I gasped, and dropped to my knees, instinctively reaching out to gather the shards of glass.
“Vera.”
His voice cut through me like steel.
Before I could blink, he was on me.
His hand closed around my wrist, firm but not painful, stopping me inches from the pieces of glass.
The warmth of his touch sent a jolt straight up my arm.
“Don’t.”
I froze, breath caught in my throat.
I stayed as still as a statue, even forgetting how to breathe.
Slowly, he released my hand and crouched, his gaze sweeping over the shards littering the floor.
His jaw tightened.
“Did you drink the wine?” he asked sharply, turning to me.
“No,” I said immediately, shaking my head. “I couldn’t. I was too nervous.”
He straightened in one smooth motion, his expression hardening into something cold and lethal.
I watched with confusion and a sense of foreboding as he reached for the phone on the bedside table, without offering me a glance.
“Get in here,” he said into it, his voice clipped. “Now.”
Within seconds, the door opened and I recognised the maid who had served me the food and drink earlier.
As soon as she rushed in, her eyes widened at the sight of the broken glass.
Silas turned on her.
“Who served alcohol in this room?” he demanded.
“I—I did, sir,” she stammered. “I was told—”
“Who serves alcohol to a pregnant woman?” he cut in.
The maid began to tremble, barely managing to look my way.
“My fiancée is pregnant,” Silas boomed. “There is no excuse for that oversight.”
My breath hitched and my face blanched. He had referred to me as his fiancee in front of his staff.
It made a strange feeling that tangled dangerously with panic spread through me.
The poor maid's face was drained of color. “I’m so sorry, sir. I truly didn’t know—”
“You do now,” he replied coldly. “I hope this does not repeat itself. Clean this up.”
She nodded frantically, dropping to her knees to gather the glass.
“Stop.”
She halted.
“Use the brush.”
She got up and scurried out.
I stood there, looking at the red stain that had seeped into the rug, wondering what would have happened if I had taken the wine.
My hand went to my stomach, relief pressing heavily against my ribs.
Ever since I learned about the baby, I hadn't given it much thought. But at the thought that something could have gone wrong…that I could have lost it, made a strong sense of protectiveness well up in me.
I realised that I did care for the baby.
I stood there, my fingers twisting into the ruined dress, guilt weighing heavily in my chest.
“Silas,” I said softly.
He turned to me.
“Please don’t be angry with her,” I added, my voice timid. “She couldn’t have known… that I was pregnant.”
For some reason, I didn't think he informed her beforehand.
For a moment, he studied me.
Then, with a slow exhale, some of the sharpness eased from his expression…not gone, but tempered.
The door opened and the maid entered and began to clean up the mess.
I looked on uncomfortably, with guilt.
It was my fault that the bottle shattered. And I was also uncomfortable because I wasn't used to people cleaning up after me.
Once she left, silence settled between us.
Silas reached for the small box I had noticed him carrying and extended it toward me.
“Here,” he said.
I hesitated before taking it.
I dropped the ruined dress on the bed, and opened the box.
Inside lay a ring so stunning it stole my breath…a large diamond, perfectly cut, catching the light in a way that felt almost unreal.
An engagement ring.
My hands trembled.
“Put it on,” he instructed. “It should fit.”
I slid it onto my finger, and surprisingly it fit perfectly.
The weight of it was grounding and terrifying all at once. Everything felt more real.
“Another dress will be brought,” he added calmly, looking at the ruined dress on the bed, as though nothing unusual had just happened. “This one will be taken care of.”
A knock came at the door.
A member of his staff entered, carrying a slim folder. Legal documents.
“Sir, these are ready.”
Silas barely nodded.
The staff placed them on a table between us and left.
My heart pounded.
“The contract,” he said, opening the folder and sliding it toward me.
“Everything we discussed is outlined here.”
I took a step closer, my steps muffled by the plush carpet.
He flipped through the pages with practiced ease, stopping at the marked sections.
He signed first, his hand, steady, decisive…final.
Then he handed the pen to me.
My hand shook slightly as I signed.
My name looked small and fragile beneath his bold, confident scrawl.
When it was done, he closed the folder and set it aside as though it were nothing more than paperwork.
I looked up at him.
“What do you need me to do tonight?” I asked quietly.
He paused, staring at me.
I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Without warning, he closed the gap between us and drew me into his arms.
His hands settled at my waist, firm and certain.
I froze.
Every muscle and every sense in my body locked up as his presence closed in around me.
My breath hitched when he slowly began to lean in…close enough that I could feel his warm minty breath on my face.
He was so close that for one terrifying second, I thought he was going to kiss me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, arms hanging limply at my sides.
Then something shifted.
He pulled back.
His hands dropped away, his grip on me loosening.
My eyes were still shut, but I heard what sounded like deep, laboured breathing.
“That,” he finally said, calmly, “won’t do.”
I pried my eyes open and stared at him, pulse racing.
“You tensed up,” he continued. “If we’re going to be convincing, you can’t react like I’ve crossed a boundary. You can't act like it's unfamiliar and strange being in my arms.”
I realised he was trying to gauge my reaction to his proximity.
Heat rushed to my face. “I wasn’t expecting—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “That’s the problem.”
His gaze was steady, assessing. “ We can't convince people that we're a couple if you freeze up anytime I come close to you. Especially when they believe we're expecting a child.”
I swallowed hard.
I clenched my hands tightly.
“Again,” I said before I could stop myself. “Let’s try again.”
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
He stepped forward once more, his hands returning to my waist…this time slower, more deliberate.
I took calm, deep breaths, forcing myself not to pull away, not to stiffen.
My heart hammered, but I stayed still.
“Better,” he murmured, his hand palming and spanning my waist. “Take a deep breath. Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
I placed my hands on his shoulders, flattening them there.
His eyes grew darker, swirling with something I couldn’t place. And they were locked on my face.
My breath hitched.
Suddenly, the door opened again.
My hands instinctively dropped from his shoulder. But his grip was still around my waist.
A very beautiful, elegantly dressed woman stood at the door.
She quickly took in the scene, her expression giving nothing away.
I lowered my eyes, embarrassed at being caught in this position.
Her gaze flicked back to Silas…completely ignoring me.
“He’s arrived,” she announced.