Chapter 93 93. Engagement Dinner
Saturday, 6 PM. Two hours until I had to face him.
I sat at my vanity, hands steadier than they should be. The makeup went on like war paint. Dramatic smoky eyes. Red lips the color of fresh wounds. My hair was swept up and pinned elegantly with two loose tendrils framing my face.
I stepped into the white dress I got. A structured satin that caught the light, featuring a high square neckline that covered everything while somehow being provocative. The back was completely open, a square of bare skin from my shoulders to the base of my spine. Boob tape kept my boobs in place beneath the fabric that molded to my body like it had been painted on.
I didn't look like just any wedding guest. I looked like a dangerous guest.
"Holy shit." Maya stood in the doorway, eyes wide. "You look incredible."
"And like I'm making a statement."
"Exactly." She walked in, circling me. "You're telling everyone in that room that you're not hiding, nor ashamed, nor broken."
"I might be all three of those things, but okay."
"Then fake it till you make it." She handed me my clutch. "Damon's here."
My stomach dropped. This was really happening.
Damon waited in the living room, sharp in a black tux. When I walked out, he stopped mid-scroll on his phone.
"Jesus, Cami." He let out a low whistle. "You're going to stop hearts tonight."
"That's the plan."
During the drive, Damon filled the silence with stories about his latest campaign shoot. Some disaster with a wind machine and a very angry photographer. I made the appropriate sounds, laughed at the right moments. We both knew what he was doing.
He was keeping me from thinking about walking into a room where Lucien would be celebrating his engagement to someone else.
I was grateful for it.
Villa Elara appeared through the gates like something from a film. Glass and modern architecture as expected, and lit from within like a jewel box. My hands started shaking.
"You can still change your mind," Damon said quietly.
"No. I can't." I need the closure.
Security checked our names at the entrance. One guard's eyes widened when he saw me. Maybe it was my dress, or maybe he knew I wasn't supposed to be there, but still he waved us through without comment.
Inside, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked manicured gardens, while crystal chandeliers threw prisms of light across marble floors. A pianist played something soft and melancholy in the corner. But the real party was outside, visible through sliding glass doors. White lights strung between trees. Tables with black linens. Maybe thirty guests in formal wear, all holding champagne.
A server approached. "Names?"
"Camila Sterling, plus one."
He announced our presence quietly, but it didn't matter since conversations hushed and heads turned. Eyes widened as they took in the white dress.
I was the only one wearing white besides Jessica.
"You're causing a scene and you've been here thirty seconds," Damon murmured. "Impressive."
I scanned the room, looking for him. Golden eyes, dark hair, sexy smooth skin, smoldering gaze, maybe a tattooed right arm, if he isn't wearing a suit and. The man who'd made love to me one night, proposed to someone else the next, but still sent bodyguards to protect me in clubs.
I didn't see him, but I saw Jessica.
Jessica stood near the bar in a white sequined gown. Diamonds dripped from her throat and ears. She was laughing at something a guest said when she turned and saw me.
The color drained from her face. Then flooded back, red and furious. She crossed the room like a missile.
"What are you doing here?"
"You invited me." I smiled. "Remember? That lovely email."
"I didn't think you'd actually come." Her eyes raked over my dress. "Seems someone's finding it hard to move on. How desperate and pathetic of you."
"Funny. I was going to say the same about someone who has to force herself into a man's life. How pathetic."
Her hand twitched at her sides. "You need to leave. Now."
"Why? Afraid your fiancé might remember who he actually wants?"
"He wants me! He chose me! You're just the sad little pick-me who can't accept that you lost."
Damon shifted beside me, stepping forward only half a step before I stopped him.
"Is that what you think this is?" I smiled. "A game you won?"
"Get out!" Jessica's voice rose. Guests who had returned to their champagnes were turning to watch now. "Security! Security, get over here!"
Two men in suits approached.
"Throw her out. And that rag she brought with her." Jessica pointed at Damon like he was garbage on her pristine lawn.
"Careful," Damon said quietly. "That rag is an Ashford."
Jessica ignored him. "She's trespassing. The invitation was a mistake. I want her gone."
The security guards looked uncertain. One reached for my arm.
"Step away from her." Lucien's voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
The room went silent. He stood near the entrance to the outdoor area. Black tux. White shirt. No tie. His hair was slightly messed like he'd been running his hands through it. And his eyes.
Those golden eyes found mine and didn't let go. The security guard's hand dropped.
Lucien didn't move. His beautiful eyes remained on me, and somehow I understood everything he wasn't saying.
You came.
You're here.
Are you okay?
Can I touch you?
I've missed you so much it's killing me.
My throat tightened. I cleared it, breaking the spell. He looked away for just a second, then back. I waited for him to say something. To walk over and grab me. To demand explanations.
Instead, he just kept staring. Those eyes asking questions I didn't know how to answer.
I couldn't hold the intensity. I bowed my head slightly, a formal acknowledgment, and took Damon's hand toward the exit.
Lucien's hand caught my arm.
"Do you really want to stay here?" His voice was low and rough, and still it stirred something hot in my belly.
I missed him. I missed that voice. My throat burned. Tears prickled behind my eyes.
"I..." My voice cracked. "I want to be at your engagement dinner."
His jaw clenched. Muscles moved beneath his skin. He didn't like that answer.
"Then you'll sit at the head table." He didn't let go of my arm. "With me."
"Lucien-" Jessica started.
"Not now."
He led me through the room, past staring guests, past Ronan's smirk and Nadia's blank expression, past Don Hayes's disapproving glare. Rafael and Javier sat at a table near the front.
Lucien pulled out a chair, and I sat.
He pushed it in, his hands lingering on the back for just a moment.
Jessica appeared at Lucien's side, vibrating with rage.
"How dare you." Her voice was shrill. "How dare you bring your ex to our engagement dinner and seat her at the head table. And that dress. You made her wear white like me on purpose."
"I didn't make her do anything. She makes her own choices." Lucien's voice was ice. "I told you, didn't I? Get ready to take everything that comes with forcing your way into my life."
"You can't humiliate me like this. Not in front of everyone!"
"You can leave anytime you want. I'm not stopping you."
Jessica's hands were shaking. "You want me to walk out of my own engagement party? You're going to regret this."
"I already regret plenty. This won't make the list."
Jessica looked around wildly. Guests were watching. Phones were out. This was going to be all over social media in minutes if Lucien or Rafael don't do something.
"Fine." Her smile was vicious. "Get comfortable, Camila. I hope you enjoy the party."