When it’s our turn, Mateo steps out first, looking handsome in a black suit, then reaches out for me.
There are only two steps before the privacy screen on the street blocks us from the view of the awaiting paparazzi. Still, it’s more than enough for them to get a shot of Mateo smiling down at me as I give a little shimmy in my low-cut maroon dress.
After I posted my statement this morning, the group chat has kept me in the loop with how it’s been perceived by the media.
If the four million likes are any indication, it’s going over pretty fucking well.
It felt good to take control of a situation that once felt impossible. Put my own words out there for the world.
Although the best feeling was simply not caring if I got ripped to shreds again. Because I no longer put my value in the hands of strangers on the internet.
And the hunky man next to me sure isn’t a bad consolation prize.
We make it into Nick’s impressive home. The entryway opens into two wide staircases, curving around on each side of the room.
Staff take our coats, and our hands are quickly filled with glasses of champagne.
Seems like everyone is huddled under the staircase, waiting for Nick to make some sort of grand entrance.
As if my thoughts have summoned him, he strides onto the second-floor landing, with his own glass of champagne in hand and looking quite dapper.
He’s sporting a white tuxedo jacket, with a black shirt, bow tie, and pants.
“Welcome, everyone. Welcome to my home,” he starts as the crowd around us starts to quiet at his arrival. “I want to thank you all for coming on short notice, even though I didn’t give you much of a choice.” He chuckles, then turns serious. “I know last night was a tough loss, and I myself probably didn’t handle it in the best way, and for that, I apologize.” He nods. “But tonight, we are here for a celebration. Because while most of you were home, licking your wounds, I was busy… getting married.” After a collective gasp from all of us, the room is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
Nick is no stranger to having a beautiful woman on his arm, but I had no idea he was seeing anyone seriously or even engaged.
“Yes, yes, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but as they say, when you know, you know.” He smiles, then looks off to the side of the staircase, making a gesture to someone I can’t see. “So tonight, you are all actually at our wedding reception. Thought it’d be fitting, given my bride… hold on just a moment, seems like my bride has gotten cold feet, even though we’ve already signed the marriage certificate,” he jokes awkwardly as he moves to the side of the stairs.
After some hushed whispers, he finally walks back out, hand in hand with someone I can’t see yet. “Ah, here she is, my blushing bride.”
My champagne glass threatens to slip from my hands as Luisa steps out in a shimmering white pantsuit and a large diamond wedding band visible on her finger.
“To the bride and groom!” Nick lifts his glass as he slips a hand around her hip and squeezes.
She discreetly lifts her heel and steps on his foot. Hard.
His smile only broadens.
Something isn’t right here.
There’s no chance in hell.
The crowd starts chanting, “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”
He raises his brow as he slowly turns to kiss her.
And when their lips meet, Jesus Christ, there’s no fakingthat.
Holy shit. My mind is reeling.
My friend married a fucking billionaire.
Twenty-Four Hours Before
I STORM INTO MY office, tugging off my tie as I do.
I was stupid. For a moment, I believed this team would win, and I would walk away clean, having accomplished one of the proposed terms of my dead grandfather’s will and getting back what I so carelessly lost.
