Chapter 25 Dolled Up
Elena stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at her.
She looked very beautiful.
The dress was blood red, deep, rich and soft to the touch.
It flowed from her shoulders all the way to the floor, skimming her curves before pooling softly around her feet, cleverly hiding the bandage wrapped around her injured leg.
The fabric shimmered subtly under the lights and when she moved, it seemed to reflect different shades of red.
Her hair was swept up elegantly, pinned at the crown of her head, a few deliberate strands left loose to frame her face.
“Are you done?" Elena asked for the sixth time that evening.
She was beginning to get antsy on that seat.
The maid hovered behind her, adjusting the final details with a smile on her face.
“You look extraordinary, madam,” the maid said softly, the open admiration unmistakable. “The color complements your skin beautifully and everything is perfect.”
Elena didn’t smile.
In fact, she looked like she might cry or even scream.
“I hate it,” Elena said flatly, her voice devoid of emotion.
The maid blinked. “Hate it, madam?”
“It’s too much,” Elena replied, staring at her reflection as if it belonged to someone else. “Too fancy for someone who is about to have dinner with a stranger tonight. I don’t want to entertain anyone. I’d rather be locked in my room and sulk properly, thank you very much.”
“At least the dress should lift your spirits," the woman said.
Elena almost wanted to tell her that she wouldn't mind tossing it in her face so she could dress up for the evening too.
But she decided that would be very rude. "That it's fancy doesn't mean I must like it.”
The maid hesitated. “But, Master Julian chose the dress himself.”
That got Elena’s attention.
Slowly, she turned. “He did what?”
The maid leaned closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Yes, madam, I probably shouldn’t say this, but the dress cost a quarter of a million dollars.”
Elena paused. “That’s a lie.”
The maid looked flustered. “It isn’t, madam.”
She hurried to the laundry basket by the side of the room, rummaged through it, and pulled out a small white tag that had clearly been torn off earlier.
She handed it over and Elena took it and carefully looked at it.
She didn't have to turn the paper twice. Right there was the price tag of the fancy dress.
She read it once and then again.
$265,000
Her breath left her in a rush. “This is insane.”
She shoved the tag back at the maid. “Take it off. Now.”
The maid froze. “Madam?”
“I am not wearing this dress.”
“But it’s stunning—”
“I don’t care if it’s woven from moonlight and angel tears,” Elena snapped. “I will not have Julian think that I can be bought by fancy fabric.”
She turned abruptly, reached behind her, and tugged the zipper down herself.
The maid gasped. “Madam!”
Elena stepped out of the dress and tossed it in the waste bin, then marched to her closet.
At once, she pulled out a simple pink dress and pulled it on.
“This,” she said firmly, “is what I’m wearing.”
The maid who had quickly gone to rescue the expensive fabric from the dustbin now clutched it to her chest and stared at her in confusion. “But—”
“In fact, I've decided that I don't want the hair-do either,” Elena continued, pulling out the pins and letting her hair fall freely down her back.
She wiped off her mascara with a tissue. “No makeup at all, I’m done.”
She limped toward the door stubbornly.
If he thought he could tell her how to dress also, he was sourly mistaken!
The maid followed her anxiously. “Madam, Master Julian asked specifically that you wear the red dress. You’re meeting important guests.”
Elena turned sharply. “Do I look like a doll you can dress up for your master?”
The maid stiffened. “Of course not, madam, I—”
“I am a grown woman,” Elena said coldly. “I decide what I wear. Go tell your master I’m not interested in playing dress-up for him.”
And before the maid could reply, she paused and raised her hands. "Did you say guests?” She scoffed. “I thought we had one guest.”
Before the maid could answer, the door to Julian’s study opened and he stepped out.
“We have more than one guest, Elena,” he said calmly.
The maid bowed hastily and fled.
Elena rounded on him instantly. “You didn’t think to tell me that you bought me a dress worth a quarter of a million dollars?”
Julian raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“That is crazy. If you think that will impress me, then you're more delusional than I thought.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress you,” he said evenly. “I bought it because I thought you’d look incredible in it.”
“That’s flattering,” she shot back, “but irrelevant. We’re in this marriage so you can help my family clear their debts. I will not appreciate you throwing money around on dresses until that’s done.”
A slow smirk curved his lips. “Just how poor do you think I am?”
She blinked.
“I can afford to buy my wife a dress without it affecting the contract,” he continued mildly.
She looked away, crossing her arms.
“So,” he said quietly, “that’s why you didn’t wear it.”
“What else would it be, Sherlock?”
For a moment, it looked like he might argue. Then he saw the fire in her eyes and reconsidered.
Instead, he extended his hand. “You still look beautiful. Shall we?”
She hesitated, then linked her arm with his.
As they walked down the stairs together, her thoughts raced as she imagined who these important guests could possibly be.
Only one thought came to mind. After all, she'd never met anyone from his family or his parents, not even during or after the wedding.
She swallowed. “Are they your family?”
He didn’t answer.
By the time they reached the landing, her eyes widened.
Julian smiled smoothly at the guests in the dining room. “Please, take your seats,” he said. “Meet my lovely wife, Elena.”
He turned to her. “Elena, meet my acquaintances.”
She could barely plaster a fake smile because she was frozen.
The man seated at the table was inconsequential.
But right beside him was the same beautiful woman from the other night.