My heart stopped before skipping erratically.
Avoiding the situation, Hasan turned his head.
And Osama nodded in disappointment.
Umaima looked like she didn’t want this to happen. “It’s fine, Addie.”
“No, it’s not.” Shesnapped.
The chair erupted with a nasty squeak when she pulled it back. Bending down from the waist so we were eye-level.
Lazily, I turned to look at her.
She was breathing hard from the anger in her body. I seemed to be the only one who could truly ignite that spark.
Ever so easily, I could wrap my hand around her luxurious hair and pull her in for a kiss, silencing her and her fucking audacity. She’d be so pliable in my arms, so addictive.
She licked her bottom lip. It glistened under the sun rays, and I couldn’t look away from it. Shuffling on the chair, my throat bobbed likeIlicked her lip.
Her pupil flicked to the left, catching onto the strangers in line, then to the right, where Umaima openly gawked. Our moment broke.
She stood, looking down at me as if I were kneeling. As if I were the one who should be begging for forgiveness from her. Maybe if I were another man, who actually fucking cared about the stone wall surrounding my heart, I’d break it down for her. But when you lived in a life like mine—full of wrath and patience—none of it fucking mattered.
“If I ever hear you talking to Umaima or Hasan that way ever again, I don’t care if I have to beg Harry for my spot back, I don’t care if I have to eradicate all remaining pieces of my dignity by sleeping with the board members, because doing all of that would be better than marrying an ill-mannered and disrespectful man like you.”
My face tightened with the insult. Jaw clenched. Throat strained. Teeth gritted. She didn’t wait for me to think, to open my mouth, to say another fucking word.
When she walked away, my body itched to follow her. Ifisted my hand on my thigh, controlling their impulses like they were fucking children who couldn’t sit still for one fucking second.
Osama, who posted himself against the window, worked hard to prevent any kind of physical connection between him and Umaima as she manoeuvred around the table.
Stopping midway with hands on her hips, she turned to face me. “Instead of insulting the people Adelaide loves most in the world, maybe find a way to learn about her instead of relearning the version you loved.”
With my tongue pushed up against my cheek, I rubbed the back of my neck without ever facing her.
Umaima exaggerated a sigh before her heels clacked against the floor.
Then she faded out, leaving the three men in the space speechless and staring at each other like the bunch of fucking idiots we were.
FOURTEEN
ADELAIDE
It was the big day.
Well, notthatbig day, but the big day where every prestigious person in New York would graciously be in presence of mine and Christian’s engagement.
A team of professionals shuffled around me, two working on my hair, one working on my face, another explaining the logistics of the dress to me.
Which was absolutelybeautiful.
The strapless A-line covered my feet. It shimmered delicately under the light inside—made out of the smoothest silk—painted in baby blue. Along with it came a necklace that belonged in the regency era. Dainty and delicate, elongating the shape of my neck and it accentuated my collarbones.
The hairstylist braided my hair in a loose romantic down style, adding floral hair clips, making me stand out more than I’d like to.
“I’d propose, if Mr. Hayes didn’t beat me to it,” said Jameson. He swooped a blush brush over my cheeks. His jobwas to make me feel good about myself, but that didn’t stop me from falling into the lies.
Straightening my shoulders, I laughed. “If I wasn’t happy marrying him, I’m sure I’d say yes to you.”
