Page 13 of The Rebel Billionaire

I take it she means I need to stop talking, trust them, and go with the flow.

“Come,” Harvey says, making a sweeping gesture with his arm.

So, the transformation begins.

* * *

I stare wide-eyed at my reflection.

My throat constricts.

I will not cry!

I reach up and touch what can only be described as a masterpiece, although my heart breaks at the long strands of hair strewn across Sophia’s floor. Whatever I’ve done in the past, I’ve always retained its length.

Now, the beautifully shaped long bob barely grazes my collarbone. Its rich, warm burgundy tones glow a deep-red purple in the sunlight streaming through the window.

This is the shortest it’s been since I had head lice at five years old.

Sophia enters.

“Oh, Brooke, it’s perfect,” she says, her hands resting on my shoulders, her gaze locking on mine in the mirror.

The green of my contact lenses, the ones I remembered to put in this morning, fit the look perfectly. She’s correct. Even I’m struggling to recognise myself.

“The man who walked away will be begging you to take him back. Don’t you agree, Sophia?” Harvey says, smiling widely at me in the mirror.

“Harvey, you’ve done an amazing job, as always,” she says, her hands squeezing gently.

I don’t speak. Instead, I offer the brightest smile I can muster, not trusting my voice in case it cracks and gives the game away.

It’s true, he has done an amazing job. It’s just looking at my reflection, I mourn the old me. The one who was finally getting her act together.

I give myself a mental shake.

She’s gone.

At least for now.

Tonight, when I enter the apartment, I won’t be able to let my hair down and remind myself I’m still me. Not a mirage.

The tightness in my chest increases, and I stand.

“Excuse me,” I say, disappearing into the en-suite.

Shutting the door, I grip the marble vanity unit between the twin sinks and drop my head forward. I squeeze my eyes closed and count to ten, then twenty, continuing to thirty, concentrating on each breath.

I tighten my grip once more before pushing away and straightening. Shoulders back, I stare myself down in the mirror. It’s not like Harvey has turned me into an ugly sister. In fact, he’s done quite the opposite. He’s turned me into fucking Cinderella, the one all spruced up and about to go to the ball.

“Brooke,” I say.

“Brooke,” I say repeating the name over and over.

I turn on the tap and place my wrist beneath the icy flow, cooling my panic.

There’s a knock on the door. “Brooke? Is everything okay?”

Sophia’s voice breaks the silence, and I switch off the tap.