“I’m good,” I say, speed-walking toward the elevator. “I’m just on my way back to my desk.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” She mutters under her breath, half-jogging to keep up with my large strides.
“Nothing,” I lie, my hand trembling as I jab the button for my floor. After the way Millie tore into me for showing up at Chase’s office unannounced, I don’t even want to think about what she’ll say if I tell her what just happened.
“Violet, come on,” she presses, folding her arms, anger in her tone. “You both looked guilty as hell. Your lips are red and swollen, there are scratches on your face, and—oh god...” She lifts my chin, her voice rising with disapproval. “All over your neck.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I fight back the sting of tears. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions today, and I’m getting whiplash from it. “It’s nothing, Millie. A mistake. It’s over.” I drag my eyes back to hers, pouring every ounce of conviction I have into it. “But please, you can’t say anything to anyone. I’m begging you.”
Her expression softens when she sees the panic in my eyes. “Okay,” she exhales. “But only if you promise to stay away?”
The elevator slows, stopping at the Marketing floor. Millie steps toward the door but pauses, glancing back at me with a warning I already know is coming. “Just so you know, Violet, you’re doing the right thing. I mean, saying it’s over. He’ll have another woman before the day is out.”
The words cut deeper than they should. I force a tight smile, pretending they don’t. “I know, Millie.”
She hesitates, then digs into her pocket and pulls out a ticket. “Oh—before I forget. Ryan told me to give this to you. He said he figured you didn’t grab one but should still come.”
I blink. “He did? Thank you.”
Millie smirks as she steps out of the elevator. “It’ll be fun, you know. You should come.”
The doors slide shut, sealing me in silence. I stare at the ticket in my hand. I shouldn’t go. Being anywhere near Chase is a bad idea.
Yet, as the elevator begins its descent, my fingers drift to my lips. A ghost of a smile teases my mouth. I can still taste him, smell him, feel his rough hands branding my skin.
There’s nothing cold-hearted about Chase when he kisses—he’s a raging inferno, a beast capable of making you forget your own name. And as much as my most depraved thoughts crave that beast—his touch, his control, his possession—I know it’s safer to walk away.
But in the darkest corners of my mind,I don’t want safe.
I want him.
Chapter ten
Violet
“Look,” Millie says, tapping an acrylic over my laptop screen. “This is Chase’s date.”
“Ow—shoot!” I yelp, jerking back as the curling tong grazes my scalp. Still, the burn is a welcome distraction from the sinking feeling in my chest as Millie tilts the screen toward me.
Hundreds of images flood the display—Chase’s supposed date for the Masquerade Ball tonight. A former Miss USA. Abeauty queen.No less.
My stomach knots, but I force my expression into something resembling indifference. Setting down the curling tong, I shift toward Millie, who’s sprawled out on my bed, oblivious to the tightness in my throat. Each photo is like a fresh stab to the heart as my eyes skim over a real-life queen, hands clasped in jubilation as she stands on a stage, a glittering tiara perched atop her cascade of perfect, red waves. There are hundreds of photos—charity galas, high-society events—flawlessin every single one. Apparently, beauty queens don’t have off days.
I know why Millie’s doing this—she’s making sure I keep my distance. Reminding me of what Chase is. And what I am not.
“I think she’s the ambassador for the charity associated with the ball tonight,” Millie muses, setting the laptop aside.
But as I drag a bold red lipstick across my lips, in the mirror’s reflection, the images still taunt me. A shining crown. A perfect smile.
I clamp my teeth together, checking for smudges, then flick my gaze back to my reflection, determined not to dwell on it. Tonight is about having fun.
“Okay, Mills, I’m done. We should get going,” I say, spritzing myself with perfume. “Seb just texted—our Uber will be here in five.”
I stand, smoothing my dress down as I reach for my mask. Millie and I found the perfect ones in a vintage store—mine is midnight blue, embossed with silver jewels and edged with black feathers, a perfect match for my gown. The dress is a deep midnight blue with a subtle shimmer of silver woven through the silk fabric. It hugs my curves, fitted through the waist and hips, flowing down to my ankles with a split on one side. The neckline is more daring than I would usually go for, but the touch of anonymity the beautifully ornate masks provide makes me feel more reckless, less like I need to hide. Although the sexiest feature of the dress has to be, the low scooped back, leaving my skin bare except for the delicate spaghetti straps resting against my shoulders.
I check my reflection one last time, adjusting my mask just as Gracie appears in my doorway, letting out a low whistle as her gaze sweeps over me. “Oh my god, Violet, you look stunning. You’ll definitely pull tonight.”
“Thank you, Gracie.” I smile, tossing her a wink. “Your ‘best sister’ crown remains intact.”
