The woman gave me the deepest look of contempt that I’d ever received. “If Mr. Madden wanted you to know, he would have told you.”
I took a deep breath through my nose and looked out of the window, instead of watching the woman who could potentially see too much.
“Relax your shoulders,” she said suddenly. “You’re slouching. It isnot flattering.”
I straightened automatically, then cursed myself for it. I didn’t want to listen to her. I didn’t want toobey.
The car slowed as we approached a row of pristine boutiques—places I loved to shop when I was alone. Places I'd taken Jane to.
“We don’t have much time to prepare you for everything happening this evening, so here is how it will be—we will find you the perfect outfit for dinner, and then you will go get your hair and makeup done. After that, you’ll also have your nails and toes done. There is no time for push back. Do you understand?”
I nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She smiled, but it didn’t meet her eyes. “Good girl.”
The door opened, and a man in all black extended his hand to help me out. I didn’t miss the SUV full of security that pulled up behind us. I stepped onto the polished sidewalk and mentally prepared myself for the worst.
Inside, the boutique smelled like jasmine, which did little to calm my nerves. A tall woman with a tight bun and sharper cheekbones than anything humanly possible greeted us immediately.
“Miss Fairchild,” she breathed as if I were some delicate treasure. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Marta gestured toward a changing suite in the back. “Try on everything they bring you. I’ll evaluate.”
Evaluate?
I forced a polite smile for the boutique woman, who ushered me into a mirrored room the size of my kitchen. Dresses were already hung along the wall—silk, crystal beading,velvet, sheer panels, and every other fabric you could think of.
“Miss Fairchild,” the boutique employee called through the door as she knocked gently. “We’re ready when you are.”
I swallowed hard and smoothed the dress in front of me. A deep green satin that shimmered like a serpent’s skin.
The moment I slipped it on, something inside me twisted tight.
It wasn’t me.
It wasn’tforme.
It was for Donovan.
Everything from this point on would be for Donovan.
Unless—
Unless I found a way out.
And God help me…
I was starting to want out more than I’d ever wanted anything.
Even more than I wanted Ivan.
For the first time, I wondered if it was possible to want both. I twisted my hands in front of me and smoothed out the fabric again. It wasn’t about me, though. It wasn’t about what I wanted. It was about Jane. Everything was about protecting her. Nothing else mattered… but maybe… just maybe, there could be more. I just had to come up with a plan.
I took a breath—one that didn’t even make it all the way into my lungs—and pushed open the door.
Marta stood beside a velvet sofa, arms folded, with an expression as warm as a slab of marble. The boutique attendant’s eyes lit up as if she’d personally stitched the gown from strands of emerald herself.
Marta’s jaw clicked before she spoke. “Turn.”
