Evelyn
The Blackwood estate is a fortress of elegance and power, its gothic spires clawing at the evening sky as if to claim the very heavens. It’s not a place for mere mortals like me. Even the ivy clinging to its walls seems to coil with predatory grace, as though it might seize anyone who dares to trespass.
I smooth my hands over the emerald silk of my dress, the fabric slipping through my grasp like water. Tobias chose it, of course. He always chooses my gowns for these events, as if I’m a mannequin he can dress to fit his vision of perfection.
“Relax, Evie,” Tobias says. His hand is on my back as we ascend the grand staircase. The faint hum of string music drifts from the ballroom above. “It’s just family. Nothing to be nervous about.”
His words do little to soothe the tightness in my chest. Family, yes, but not mine. The Blackwood family is deeply rooted intradition and expectations. Their every step is planned, every word weighted. I’ve spent years learning their rhythms and unspoken rules, but I still feel like an outsider, like a piece of art brought in to complete the picture but never truly belonging.
The doors swing open, and we’re greeted by a sea of faces: polished, aristocratic, and utterly unreadable. My eyes instinctively search for Lucian, though I tell myself it’s only because his presence would be a familiar anchor in this unfamiliar sea of people. But he’s nowhere to be seen.
“Ah, Tobias!” His father’s voice booms across the room. “And Evelyn, lovely as always.”
I offer a practiced smile as Tobias steers me toward his parents. Their approval is warm but measured, their gaze lingering on me just long enough to remind me I’m being assessed.
“How are things at the museum?” Mrs. Blackwood asks.
“Busy. We’ve received a new collection of Renaissance pieces. They’re quite remarkable.”
“Wonderful,” she says, but her attention has already shifted to someone behind me.
Mr. and Mrs. Blackwood think that my work sounds pretentious enough to be respectable, even with my middle-class background. Their questions are always just polite enough, their nods just enthusiastic enough, but there’s a distance there, a wall I’ll never breach, no matter how many museum exhibitions I mention or how many of their parties I attend.
Tobias squeezes my hand and guides me toward the champagne fountain. I accept a glass, my thoughts still tangled in knots.
“You’re overthinking.”
“Am I?”
He chuckles, but there’s no real humor in it. “You wear it on your face, darling. Just enjoy yourself. Or pretend you are.”
The evening unfolds in a blur of introductions and small talk, each interaction carefully choreographed yet somehow hollow. I smile when expected, laugh at the right moments, and try to ignore the way Tobias’s hand never leaves my waist.
And then, there he is.
Lucian stands at the edge of the room, his black suit blending seamlessly into the opulent surroundings. His gaze finds mine, and everything else fades away. The room could collapse around us; it wouldn’t matter.
Tobias stiffens beside me as Lucian approaches.
“Lucian,” Tobias says with forced cheerfulness. “Congratulations on the merger. I heard it was a bloodbath.”
“Business as usual,” Lucian replies, his eyes finding mine. “Evelyn, you look exquisite.”
My name on his lips is like a secret whispered in the dark—intimate and dangerous all at once.
“Thank you, Lucian.” My voice falters, and I curse myself for the slip-up.
His gaze sharpens, catching the tremor like a predator scenting weakness.
Tobias shifts. “Evelyn was just telling me about the new collection at the museum,” he interjects, his voice too bright, too eager. “Renaissance pieces, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.” I tear my eyes away from Lucian. “They’re extraordinary.”
“I’d love to hear more about them,” Lucian says. “Perhaps you could give me a private tour sometime.”
It’s an innocent enough request, or it would be, if not for the way his words seem to carry a double meaning. Tobias laughs, but it’s strained, his fingers digging into my side just enough to make me flinch.
“I’m sure Evelyn is too busy for that. The museum keeps her occupied enough as it is. Isn’t that right, darling?”
