"I'm here. I'm coming, Father." Her voice is steadier now but still tinged with tension.
She slips out, closing the door softly behind her. Through the wood, I hear her fabricate an excuse.
"I'm sorry, Father. I... I needed a moment alone. The excitement of the evening..."
"Nonsense." Mr. Faulks's tone is sharp enough to make me wince. "You've been raised better than to abandon your guests. Prescott has been looking for you."
"I apologize. It won't happen again."
"See that it doesn't." His voice lowers, but I can still make out his words. "This is an important night, Viv. The announcement of your engagement... It's time we showed the world the strength of the Faulks name."
"Yes, Father." The words sound hollow, rehearsed.
"Come, everyone's waiting. It's time for the announcement."
I wince, imagining Vivianne's fingers frantically smoothing down the hair I shamelessly ran my hands through moments ago. Their voices fade as they move away, leaving me in sudden silence. My fists clench at my sides. The revelation about her family's vault hangs heavy, another complication in our already tangled web.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. There will be time to deal with that later. For now, I need to get out of here undetected. And then... then we plan our next move.
Their footsteps fade, swallowed by the gala's ambient noise. I lean against the door, forehead pressing against the cool wood. The weight of what we're up against settles heavily on my shoulders.
But the memory of Vivianne in my arms, the taste of her still on my lips, steels my resolve. Her father, Prescott, this whole damned engagement—they're just obstacles.
And I've never met an obstacle I couldn't overcome.
I slip out of the Blue Room, straightening my borrowed uniform. The cacophony of the gala washes over me as I make my way back toward the main ballroom. Glasses clink, laughter bubbles, the orchestra swells…
I barely take three steps when a vice-like grip clamps on my shoulder. My muscles tense, ready for a fight, as I spin around.
Marcus—the bodyguard—fixes me with a steely gaze, his massive frame blocking the corridor.
"Mr. de Gaulle." His voice is low and menacing. "I'm afraid you're not on the guest list."
I force my lips into an easy smile, though my pulse races.
"Surely there's been some mistake. I have an invitation right here."
My hand slips into my jacket pocket, fingers closing around a taser—something that will buy me the seconds I need to escape.
Marcus's eyes narrow. He opens his mouth, likely to call for backup, when a sudden commotion erupts from the ballroom. We both turn instinctively toward the sound.
Mr. Faulks is at the podium, microphone in hand. His voice booms through the room, silencing the chatter.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming. We have a very special announcement to make tonight."
My stomach twists. No. Not now. Not like this.
"It is my great pleasure to announce the engagement of my daughter, Vivianne Faulks, to Mr. Prescott Harrington."
The world seems to slow down. Prescott slips a massive diamond ring onto Vivianne's finger. It catches the light, throwing off prisms that mock me with their beauty. Prescott leans in, pressing a kiss to Vivianne's cheek. Mr. Faulks beams, every inch the proud father.
But Vivianne... her gaze darts through the crowd, searching. She finds me, a silent plea in her eyes. The anguish there mirrors the pain lancing through my chest.
Applause erupts, shattering the moment. I use the distraction to wrench free from Marcus's grip, melting into the sea of well-wishers. Plans A through Z crumble to dust.
They moved up the engagement.
The wedding will follow soon.
