I wrap my hands around the warm cup, letting the heat seep into my skin. “I have an event tonight and this weekend.” I grimace. “I’ll have to leave early, so I want to make as much progress as possible before then.”
I’ve been working as a restoration artist for the Hudson Art Restoration Institute for nearly three years now, and we have an understanding. I’m allowed to work on my own schedule, as long as the work is completed on time. Marcus knows I will show up on weekends and in the middle of the night if it means meeting a deadline. But lately, my obligations have been cutting into my work time more frequently, and Marcus has noticed.
“Another Blackwood event?” he asks, his tone carefully neutral. He’s never been fond of Tobias, though he’s too polite to say it outright.
“Yes,” I admit, picking at the croissant. “A dinner party tonight. It seems they have one every other day.”
He nods at my left hand, where my engagement ring catches the light. “Soon you will be hosting them yourself.”
I glance down at the ring. “I suppose so.”
My fingers brush over the cold metal. The ring has never felt right on my finger. It’s too large, too ostentatious—a four-carat princess cut that catches on everything and weighs my hand like a chain. Tobias insisted on it, claiming it was ‘worthy of a Blackwood bride,’ but I would have preferred something simpler. Something that felt like me.
I place the coffee on the table and take a newspaper from the stack, the picture of cold eyes and sharp features staring back at me from the front page. Lucian Blackwood’s face is everywhere these days: his latest win splashed across headlines, his measured words dissected in columns about corporate strategy. I trace the lines of his face; the newsprint smudges under my fingertips.
Marcus peers over my shoulder. “Another victory for the Blackwood empire. Lucian certainly knows how to make waves.”
I fold the newspaper quickly as if hiding it will somehow erase the image of Lucian’s piercing gaze from my mind. “He’s... efficient.”
Marcus raises an eyebrow but doesn’t press. Instead, he takes a slow sip, watching me over the rim of his cup. “You know you don’t have to go to every single one of these events, right? Tobias can handle them on his own.”
I shake my head, though the thought is tempting. “It’s expected. You know how the Blackwoods are.”
“I do. But that doesn’t mean you have to play along.”
It’s not that simple, and we both know it.
The Blackwoods are a force in this city—wealthy and influential, their name synonymous with power and prestige. I could never afford to alienate them, not when my career and reputation are so deeply intertwined with theirs. Besides, Tobias would never understand if I tried to explain why these events feel like walking into a gilded cage. He thrives in that world, basking in the attention and the endless parade of social obligations. For him, it’s second nature. For me, it’s a performance—one I’m still learning how to perfect.
“I’ll be fine. It’s just another dinner.”
Marcus doesn’t look convinced, but he lets it drop. “If you need an out, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you,” I say softly, meaning it more than he knows.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of meticulous work. Each brushstroke is purposeful, each decision thought out. It’s here, in this precise and controlled world, I am at ease. Here, I can repair what’s broken and breathe life back into something forgotten. If only life were as simple as art.
By the time I leave the gallery, the sun is still high, but the weight of the evening ahead casts a shadow over the golden light. I pause on the steps, drawing in a deep breath of cool afternoon air. The dinner looms ahead, an unavoidable performance where every smile and gesture will be scrutinized. Tobias will be there, charming and oblivious as always, and Lucian will be there too, a shadow at the edge of every room.
The thought alone sends a shiver down my spine, though I can’t quite place why.
It’s definitely not fear.
Lucian has been nothing but polite, even when his words carry an undercurrent of something darker. Something that feels like standing on the edge of a precipice, knowing the fall would be both terrifying and exhilarating.
After all, the ground beneath me has not been steady since the first time I met him.
I’ve spent the last three years trying to find my footing in this world that feels so foreign. But every time I think I’ve found balance, Lucian’s presence tilts the axis. It’s not the way he looks at me—though that alone is enough to unravel me—but the way he sees me. Tobias sees the version of me he wants to see: the perfect fiancée, the elegant accessory to his life. Lucian sees the cracks beneath the surface, the parts of me I try so hard to hide.
I shake my head, trying to physically dislodge the thought of him.
It’s dangerous to dwell on Lucian Blackwood. Dangerous to let myself wonder what it would be like to let him see even more of me.
I can’t afford to think like that.
Not when my future is already mapped out in gold and diamonds. Not when I could lose everything if I let myself falter.
Chapter 4
