“Thank you, Ma’am.” He parted the card to see the name of the guest, so he can know who made it and whatsoever.
His calm composure upon collecting the card and all was discarded out the window upon seeing the name scribbled there. He looked up to stare at me, then shifted his attention back to the name as to make sure he’s actually seeing the real owner of the name in flesh.
His reaction nearly had me chuckling, keyword, nearly. I didn’t though, for I had better things to do than stand and be amused by a worker stunned by my presence.
Instead, I turned around and gracefully made my way down the spiral stairs leading to the ballroom, leaving the stunned man there to do his work. The stairs were also lined by a red carpet that ended at the foot of the stairs.
I could feel people’s eyes on me as I descended the stairs, which started with me catching the attention of one person, who tapped the person beside him and it continued that way.
My stiletto covered feet kissed the marble floors with intricate pattern as I stepped into the grandeur hall where the ball is taking place. Everyone else seemed to be with their partners or groups as they interacted, given they are all part of a small circle where everyone knows each other.
And then, there’s me, the guest’s no one knows, but I do know them all well enough. Their curious gazes and judging eyes meant nothing to me, as I made my way around the place, knowing it like the back of my hand as I navigated around in search of a particular someone, ignoring the curious looks.
The person found me before I did, or at least, the wrong person did.
“Am I seeing this clearly, or…is it really you?”
I halted in my steps, upon hearing a familiar voice. My spine straightened, my lips slanting downwards into a small frown. Turning around, I plastered a small smile on my face as my gaze met that of someone I haven’t seen in a while.
“Mrs. Donnelly.” I acknowledged my former mother-in-law with a fake smile. “It’s been a while.” I kept my voice calm and composed.
Ma, or Mrs. Donnelly as I’d prefer to call her now didn’t bother to hide her distaste towards me as she offered me a onceover, her face scrunching up. “So, it really is you.” Her eyes met mine, narrowed. “Who let a lowlife like you into this place? And where did you borrow this dress from?”
“You’re still the same as ever.” I commented drily. “Good to know.”
“It’s only been what? Two months since you got divorced, and look at you.” She scoffed, taking a step towards me. “Are you here to lobby up to James so he can take you back?”
I quirked a brow. Is this woman for real? She thinks I came all the way here just for her son? Oh please.
She extended her hand to flick a strand of her hair behind her ear, her lips curling upwards into a smug grin. “Oh, honey. He’s way ahead of you now. Piece of advice, you better leave while you can still save your face.” She then dropped her voice, whispering. “You can return this rental dress in one piece to save you the extra cost as well.”
I wasn’t offended by her words. I’ve spent three years enduring such treatment, this is nothing. Besides, I had predicted this situation, and I came prepared for it. However, when I looked over her shoulder, and my eyes fell on the family that I’ve left, with a certain blonde I’m familiar with in the arms of the said man, I found myself doing something impulsive out of the plan.
I shifted my gaze to Mrs. Donnelly. “If you’d excuse me. I need to go back to my fiancée.” I put on a smile on my face, though I was freaking internally. What fiancée? Where did that come from?
Her face contorted into that of surprise, then she cackled mockingly. “I see you’re already whoring around. Tell me, who did you snag? A dying old millionaire.”
My smile didn’t falter. I took a step closer to her, dropping my voice so only she could hear. “It’s an insult to associate myself with someone as mere as a millionaire. Keep that in mind.” I offered her a smile, because her son is one, and I know she’ll take it to heart. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a fiancée waiting.”
I turned around, and walked away, overly aware of her attention on me. I know she’s waiting to see whom I’d go back to, and after everything I’ve said, I cannot just walk away and lose face like that. I just put on a show about a fiancée that doesn’t exist.
Shit. Now I got to find someone to pretend with. But, who?
A passing waiter came with a tray of champagne. I reached out my hand and took it, my eyes taking a quick survey around the males there to see which one is more befitting. There are quite a lot and each has this aura that doesn’t sit right with me.
Until I saw him. He was talking to another man, but something about him drew me to him. So, bringing the champagne flute to my lips, I took a huge gulp from it as I covered the distance between us.
Upon reaching where he stood, I placed a hand on his arms and turned him around. He did so easily, no doubt wanting to see who it is. I did a quick survey of his face, deeming him worthy enough to at least make out with.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.