I’d never seen anything like the Westwood estate in person before. I’d driven past the gates countless times, heard the whispers about their sprawling acres outside the city, and seen pictures in lifestyle magazines over the years, but it was a completely surreal experience, actually being here.
The house was larger than life, even to me, and it wasn’t like my own family’s homes were anything to scoff at. There was also the fact that I was walking up the steps with Harrison at my side, his hand tucked firmly into mine, and that made it something else entirely. It drove home the reality of what we were doing in a very clear way.
Harlan Westwood, a legend of our time, was retiring and I was here to celebrate it with his family. As someone who was about to become part of it.
Before we reached the doors, I stopped moving and glanced up at Harrison. “This is your last chance to back out. They know you’re getting married, but they don’t know yet to whom. We can keep it that way for now. I promise, I won’t be offended if you’ve changed your mind.”
He took a step closer to me, his thumb brushing over the ring on my finger as his gaze hooked on mine, the expression in thosebluish hazel eyes so intense that I almost couldn’t breathe. “I’m sure about this, Aurelia. I’m sure about you. Honestly, this isn’t about them. It’s about us. We tried lessening the blow to our mothers by finding out what happened between them first, but that didn’t work out and I’m not ashamed of us. I want them to know.”
My heart hammered a staccato rhythm in my chest, but I nodded, my tongue peeking out to wet my lips. “Okay, then. Here goes nothing.”
“Here goes nothing.” To my surprise, he bent over to press a soft kiss to my forehead. Then he adjusted his grip on my hand, holding it tight as he guided me to the front doors.
They swung open as we reached them, an elderly butler with an impassive expression on his face simply stepping aside to let us in. Harrison grinned at him, all confidence and spoiled-brat energy as he clapped the butler on the shoulder.
I knew it was a front. He was nervous, on edge after everything that had happened this week, and aware that he was about to drop a major bomb right into the middle of his family at a very special occasion. But looking at him now, I never would have said it. Honestly, I admired his ability to just keep moving, no matter what. At the same time, I was genuinely touched that, with me, he’d stopped putting up that front.
This week, I’d seen him at his worst. I’d seen him vulnerable, hurting, uncertain, and he hadn’t done a damn thing to hide any of it from me. Even if I had only found out on the way here about the fight he’d had with his parents about us. About our plans.
“We’re going to need another place at the table, Garve. This is Aurelia. Aurelia, Garvey.”
“Delighted to meet you,” Garvey said, but his gaze was suddenly a little shiny with shock. “I’ll see to another place being set.”
He shut the door behind us, bowed, and hurried across the cavernous foyer. Harrison took a deep breath, the mask fading again as he glanced at me. “Are you ready for this?”
“No,” I said honestly. Like him, I tended to mask my uncertainty or vulnerability with faux confidence, but not with him. Somehow, we’d gone way past that. “Let’s do it anyway.”
A slow grin broke out across his face. He nodded and led me to their dining room. The long mahogany table in the center was already full, the Westwoods laughing and chatting around it. A glittering chandelier bathed the room in soft light, flickering against the crystal glasses and fine china.
The second we stepped in, the lively conversation around the table died an instant death. I felt the silence ripple like a physical force pressing against my chest. Every head turned. Every pair of eyes landed not just on me, but on my hand—more specifically, on the giant rock on my finger Harrison must’ve chosen for the specific purpose of making sure no one could ever miss it.
I’d never met most of these people. Only Sterling on occasion at industry events, but even then, I’d mostly only seen him in passing. But thanks to how much the tabloids loved this family, I knew who every single one of them was as I watched their reactions.
Callum’s eyebrows shot up, Sterling’s mouth actually dropped open, and Jameson’s sharp eyes narrowed in something between curiosity and disbelief. Their wives, Laney, Sadie, and Maisie exchanged quick, surprised glances, but I saw the smiles they were trying to smother.
Something told me I was going to like—and need—these women. Especially as my gaze landed on the two faces that mattered most, CC and Harlan Westwood. Harrison stepped forward, his hand still firmly in mine as he spoke to them.
“Mom, Dad. This is Aurelia Van Alen, my fiancée.”
Instantly, Harrison’s mother looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her face went utterly pale, her spine rigid, and her lips pressing into a thin, bloodless line. For a second, I thought she might actually faint.
Harlan rose immediately though, all old-world charm and a warm grin. “Well, this is quite a surprise.” He crossed the space between us with surprising ease for a man his age, taking my hand as if I’d always belonged there. “Welcome, my dear. It’s a pleasure to finally have you at our table.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling like a deer in headlights as he guided me to a chair and pulled it out himself, seating me between Harrison and CC.
His hand lingered warmly on my shoulder before he took his place at the head of the table, the smile never leaving his face. “I have heard so much about you, Aurelia. I simply had no idea you and Harrison even knew each other, let alone that you’re who he’s been seeing.”
I risked a glance at Harrison beside me. He was calm and collected, as if this had always been the plan, but when my eyes darted back to his mother, the sight of her pale, rigid expression made a chill run down my spine.
Harrison leaned forward a little, matching his father’s warmth with easy charm. I could see the relief in his eyes, though. This was going better than he’d expected.
“We met a while ago,” he said vaguely, obviously not intending on giving them too much detail about our relationship or our engagement. “It was still new, though. We didn’t want to say anything until we were sure.”
Callum snorted, but he tried to hide it behind his bourbon. He raised the glass at me with a slight pump of his eyebrows when he caught me glancing at him. Sterling looked me over, his gaze filled with polite, surprised interest.
I would never admit this to anyone, but Sterling Westwood was my idol. He’d gotten into the game straight after college, just as young as I had been, but by the time he’d been my age, he’d proven himself as a force of nature in our industry.
At first, people assumed he’d ridden his dad’s coattails to reach the level of success he had. In response, he’d simply worked his ass off, and before long, everyone had known that he was a contender to be reckoned with all on his own.
