Chapter 27 Fitting in
CHAPTER 27: Fitting in
Vera
I stood frozen in front of the floor-to ceiling mirror, my heart hammering wildly in my chest, watching the way the purple silk of the gown clung to my skin like a second, very expensive layer of confidence.
The cut was simple, yet sophisticated, the fabric shimmering with every shallow breath I took.
“Vera, stop fidgeting, breathe. You’re going to pass out before your husband even gets to see you in the dress,” Cherry said, her voice a sharp, but a loving command… honestly what I needed at that point.
“Do you really think he'll approve?” I asked, my voice trembling. I turned slightly, looking at the soft, almost invisible curve of my stomach that the dress subtly highlighted.
She adjusted the strap of my dress, then rested her hands on my shoulders. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, a mix of pride and fierce loyalty.
“Of course, he will. That man has no other option.”
I exhaled heavily, rubbing my sweaty palms on the skirt of the dress.
“After what happened with that designer... if he thinks this doesn't meet up to standard, or if Natalie thinks it looks... out of place..."
"Stop it," Cherry interrupted, and grabbed my arms, turning me around to face her.
“You have to stop selling yourself short. Honestly I don't care what that woman thinks,” she said, pissed. “She's lucky I wasn't present that day, I would have rendered her and her horrible overpriced designer bald.”
She took a deep breath and continued on a lighter tone. “What matters is your comfort…that you feel beautiful in what you're wearing. If Silas does not understand that too, then I think we might need to have a talk—”
My eyes widened. “Please don't, Cher.”
She rolled her eyes. “Then he had better not give me reasons to. This dress was made for a woman, not a mannequin. It’s elegant, it’s beautiful, and it screams you.”
“You think so?”
She flashed me a grin. “You look beautiful, Vee. That's all that matters, not the brand or label.”
I turned to the mirror, smoothing the dress one more time. I had gotten a bit of confidence from Cherry.
“I haven't seen Lily around,” she said, looking around.
“She’s out to the movies with her friends.”
Her expression shifted. She wanted to say something, but decided against it.
“I think you should hurry now, so you are not overly fashionably late.”
She laughed. And I joined her. And I felt lighter afterwards.
But somewhere in the pit of my stomach, unease and fear loomed. The fear that it was really Damien that I had run into still lingered.
He could upturn our lives and ruin everything.
I didn’t tell Lily because I didn’t want her to worry, same as Cherry.
If it was really him, then I knew him well enough to know that he won’t stay away. He'd be back, and I'd gladly pay him what I took, to keep him out of our lives.
A few moments later, when I stepped into the foyer, Silas was already standing by the grand staircase, checking his watch.
When he heard the soft rustle of my dress, he looked up just as I descended the last staircase.
I stood there, unsure, my stomach twisted up in knots and bunches.
He didn't speak.
For a long, heart-stopping moment, his eyes darkened, sweeping over me from the crown of my head to the hem of the purple silk. His gaze was slow…deliberate, with an intensity that made my skin tingle.
Even his usual mask of indifference shifted for a fleeting, visible moment of awe.
The air might have been sucked from my lungs, because I had never been more aware of a man's attention until now.
I had long realised that my new husband could effortlessly wring a reaction from my body with as little as a stare or his presence…even against my wish.
The air in the foyer seemed to thin, and the room grew hotter.
"You look... beautiful," he finally said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
I held his gaze for a long moment, an unexpected thrill and pleasure coursing through me at his compliment.
He stepped forward, still holding eye contact, and pulled a long velvet box from inside his coat pocket. He popped the lid to reveal a stunning piece.
Inside sat a necklace of interlocking diamonds that caught the light like trapped stars.
I had never seen anything more beautiful.
“This is for you,” he said, holding it open in front of me.
“No…it's too much,” I stammered, lifting my hands as if to ward off the brilliance. “I can’t accept this. You've already given me too much. This must have cost a fortune. I can't wear something like this.”
Ignoring my protests, he lifted the necklace from the box, and I instinctively stepped back.
“Stay still,” he commanded sternly, ending my resistance.
He stepped behind me, his long fingers warm against the nape of my neck…a stark contrast to the icy bite of the diamonds which he fastened around my neck, its weight, cold and heavy over my collarbone.
His breath fanned the hair at my nape, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. The foyer was relatively warm.
When he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from my ear, I trembled slightly.
“Nothing is ever 'too much' for my wife. Tonight, you are appearing in high society as Mrs Rutherford. Nothing in this world…no jewel, no dress, no luxury…will ever be too much for you. Always remember that.”
I couldn't seem to find my voice nor the words.
I could only nod.
We stayed that way for a few seconds…his warm breath fanning my exposed skin, until he walked back to face me, and offered me his arm.
“Remember, you have to be very convincing tonight. Don't be nervous and follow my lead.”
Hooking my arm with his, I nodded.
“Okay.”
When we arrived at the gala, the flashes of light were blinding. I thought that one time at the hospital was horrible, turns out it hardly measured up.
The gala was a sea of shimmering lights and sharp-toothed smiles.
Stepping into the hall, Silas, who hadn't let his hand slip from the small of my back, snaked his firmly around my waist, pulling me flush against his side.
He leaned in slightly,
“Remember, relax, follow my lead,” he murmured, a charming smile pulled on his face.
We moved through the gilded ballroom like a single entity, the perfect picture of a husband enamored with his wife.
The photographers asked us to pose for some photographs, and Silas gladly obliged.
“Smile, Vera,” he whispered through a practiced, charming grin as the cameras clicked. “Lean into me. Let them see how 'happy' we are.”
I did.
I tilted my head toward him, laughing softly at a joke he didn't tell…feeling the strength of his arm supporting me.
“Ah, the couple of the hour!” Lucas greeted, approaching us with that polite warmness I was beginning to associate with him.
“Lucas,” Silas greeted with a polite nod.
He slipped his other hand out of his pocket to shake hands with Lucas.
“Welcome to the celebration,” Lucas said. “You look lovely tonight, Vera.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Lucas,” I replied. “Thank you for inviting us.”
He chuckled. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.” He turned to Silas. “I see you've both caused quite a stir in the news lately. I thought the rumors of your devotion were exaggerated, but I see I was wrong.”
He was referring to the pictures from the hospital which had trended on every media outlet.
Lily had gone crazy over it. But I'd rather not attract such attention.
Because the pictures were taken outside the OBGYN office, the news of my pregnancy was not so secret anymore.
“I find it difficult to be anything but devoted to my wife, especially now that she needs me,” Silas replied smoothly, his eyes dropping to me with a look of such convincing tenderness, his hand possessively splayed over my abdomen, making my heart skip several beats.
Lucas smiled, wistfully. “Congratulations once again,” he said. Then regaining his mood, he gestured to us,
“Come, let me introduce you to some people.”
Lucas introduced us to a circle of elite board members. I found myself offering polite smiles and exchanging pleasantries with the old-world elites, my voice and confidence steadying as I saw the impressed looks on their faces, both from the men and their partners alike.
I was winning them over, not as a contract, but as a person.
I also noticed how Silas commanded attention and respect in the room, both from the young and old.
Once again, it left me staggeringly aware of how we were truly so many lifetimes apart.
“If you'll excuse us for a moment, ladies,” Lucas said, addressing the women in the group, both young and old decked in heavy pearls. “I need to steal the men away for a bit of business talk.”
He faced me. “I'm afraid I'd steal your husband away for a while.” He turned to him. “Silas?”
Panic flared in me. I gripped his forearm. “Silas—”
The women seemed friendly. I was the youngest amongst them, but I wasn't so confident about pulling through on my own.
Silas covered my hand with his, squeezing firmly.
Leaning down, he whispered softly in my ear, so that only I could hear it.
“You’ve been doing well, Vera. Stay with the ladies; I’ll be back before you know it. Remember: you belong here. Believe it…and you'll be.”
I loosened my grip and he left with Lucas and the other men.
“Let the men discuss their business, dear. He'll be back,” one of the women said.
She was elderly, silver haired, with bright red lipstick.
As the men walked away, the circle of women closed in on me like a velvet trap.
A blondie with cat-like and a very apparent love for champagne, waved her half filled glass in my direction.
“When I heard that someone had finally managed to tie down the most eligible, but very elusive bachelor, Silas Rutherford, I didn’t know what to expect,” she said, genuine interest twinkling in her eyes. “I mean he has seen it all…done it all,” she added slyly, the double meaning very clear.
A few laughs and giggles echoed.
I didn’t know how to reply to her, so I just kept smiling.
“I think what Rowena meant, is that you're totally different from what anyone could have imagined,” another added hastily.
“Quite young too,” someone else added.
“Oh,” I mouthed. “We neither expected nor planned to fall for each other, but we did. He loves me, protects me and takes care of me,” I said in the most convincing and sincere voice I could muster.
There were sounds and whispers of admiration and approval.
A waiter passed by with a tray containing glasses of champagne and he passed it round, handing one to everyone.
Conversation resumed, flowing freely between the matriarchs of the city’s oldest wealth, topics that had little or nothing to do with me, thankfully.
“You’re barely touched your champagne, dear,” the blondie, Rowena, noted, her eyes flickering to my full glass.
”I have a bit of a headache tonight,” I lied, offering a polite smile. “Besides, I'm not much of a drinker.”
She smirked, amused. “You’re yet to have a glass all night.”
I blinked, nervous. They others overhead us and turned their attention towards me, curious.
”And you have quite the glow,” another remarked, her gaze dropping pointedly to the way I was unconsciously shielding my midsection with my clutch.
“Tell us, is there a reason Silas Rutherford is being so... exceptionally protective tonight?”
“Do you have something cooking like the rumors say? I haven't seen him let go of your waist once.”
I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “He's just… very attentive.”
The women exchanged a knowing, conspiratory look.
“Oh, we know that look, darling. The refusal to drink, the radiance, the way he watches your every step. Congratulations are in order, aren't they?”
“She’s gorgeous, I totally understand Silas wasting no time at all.”
Heat crept up my neck and surged to my face.
But with it, I also felt a surge of genuine warmth. The women weren't so bad, and I was doing it. I was fitting in.
I wanted to add something to the conversation, but my phone buzzed in my hand.
I stepped back, excusing myself to check the message, thinking it was Lily.
Asking Lily to inform me as soon as she was home was the only way I could rest easy, given the recent developments.
However, when I saw the message on the screen, my heart stopped.
The blood drained from my face as I read the screen:
”You look ravishing in that purple dress, cosa mia. But I’ve always liked you better in red.”
My throat closed up, and I swayed slightly. I trembled, and my fingers shook, threatening to drop the glass in my hand.
My worst nightmare was becoming reality.
He was here.
Damien was here.
The ballroom went cold. I looked up, my eyes frantically searching the sea of masked faces and tuxedos, the grip of absolute terror paralyzing my lungs.
He was in the room. He was watching me.
I barely had time to scan the entire room, then my phone began to ring.
Unknown caller.