Nearly two hours later, my limbs were still unsteady, my head still throbbing when Josephine shoved me forward.
I stumbled in my heels, catching myself just as I land against Garrick's waiting arm. The unfamiliar height had thrown me off. I hadn't worn heels in years. I had been trading them for practical shoes ever since I graduated from nursing school.
I pulled away immediately.
Garrick chuckled.
"Just like old times," he said lightly, extending his arm again.
Josephine rolled her eyes, clearly uninterested, and walked ahead without another word.
"Come," he added, his arm still offered, as if this were nothing more than a normal evening.
I hesitated, then reluctantly took it, careful not to trip over the hem of my burgundy dress.
Garrick looked...polished. His blond hair was slicked back, his beard trimmed neatly, his suit tailored to perfection.
There had been a time when I would've called him handsome without a second thought. Now, all I could see was something colder. More sinister. Like the villain of a spy film.
I kept my gaze forward as we walked.
It had been a long time since I'd dressed like this. I didn't have much of a social life anymore, certainly not one that involved fancy events like this. If it wasn't hospital-related, I usually chose sleep over forced smiles and small talk.
The last time I had attended something like this, I had come home to find Garrick sucking on Josephine's pussy in the living room.
I swallowed, forcing the memory away before it could fully surface.
Garrick's grip tightened slightly on my arm, not enough to draw attention, but enough to remind me of exactly where I stood.
"Careful," he murmured under his rbeath as we descended the steps. "Wouldn't want you making a scene before we even arrive."
I didn't bother to respond.
The car was already waiting by the fancy hotel we were staying in. Sleek, black and polished to a mirror shine. The driver stepped out the moment he saw us, opening the rear door without a word.
He pushed me forward, and I had no choice but to slide into the backseat, the leather cold against my skin as I settled in. He followed closely after, the door shutting behind us with a heavy, final sound that echoed louder than it should have.
I stared straight ahead, refusing to look at him even as the car pulled away from the hotel.
The city blurred past the window. Lights streaking against the dark, people moving freely along the sidewalks, unaware. The normalcy of it all felt almost cruel, because just beyond the glass, life went on as if nothing had changed.
Garrick remained silent beside me, his presence looming without needing to say a word. Though every now and then, I could feel his gaze on me. Assessing, calculating, waiting.
"You know," he said, almost casually, "you always did this."
I didn't even bother looking at him, choosing to remain silent instead.
"You act like you're the victim," he continued, turning his head slightly toward me. "As if everything was all my fault."
My jaw tightened, then I let out a sharp breath. "So that justifies you cheating?"
"I didn't say that," he murmured, though there was no real remorse in his tone. "But you certainly made it easy, Elena."
That did it.
I turned to him, anger cutting through the lingering haze in my head. "You don't get to twist this into something that's my fault."
His gaze held mine, steady. Unapologetic.
"I'm just saying," he continued, his voice low, "you can't neglect something and expect it to stay exactly where you left it."
My hands curled into fists in my lap.
"Isn't it?" he said lightly. "You were never around, Elena. Always too busy. Always too tired." A pause. "Funny how you suddenly had time for someone else."
Anger flared, cutting through the fog in my head. "Don't twist this into something it's not."
"Oh, I'm not twisting anything," he replied, voice calm. "I'm just saying, don't pretend that this is all on me."
I turned to him then, my voice cold. "Marcus has nothing to do with what you did."
His lips curved, slow and knowing.
"No," he said. "But he's certainly benefitting from it."
By the time the car began to slow, my pulse had already climbed higher again.
City Hall.
The building stood tall and imposing, its grand façade illuminating against the night. Stone columns stretched upward, framing wide steps that led to the entrance, reminding me of the Roman columns I've seen amidst the ruins.
A crowd had already gathered, guests in evening wear moving in clusters beneath the glow of chandeliers spilling light from within. Their laughter and conversations drifting faintly through the air. Security lining the entrance.
Cameras flashed intermittently, catching glimpses of arriving guests. Important, powerful people that were relevant in this industry. The kind who thrived in rooms like this.
The kind who would never notice someone like me being led in against her will.
The moment the car came to a stop, Garrick leaned in.
"Smile," he said, his voice low, controlled. "And try to look like you belong."
My stomach twisted.
He practically shoved me out of the car by my elbow, sending me stumbling forward until my hands collided with his chest.
Cameras flashed instantly.
I pulled back, scoffing under my breath as Garrick turned toward them, that practiced grin already in place. His hand found my elbow again, grip tightening just enough to keep me anchored beside him.
"Lord Garrick, over here!"
"Miss Elena, how are you feeling?"
The questions came all at once, overlapping, relentless.
I froze.
How did they know my name?
"Oh, you know," Garrick said smoothly, stepping in before I could even process it. "After being rescued from an attempted kidnapping, Elena has been through quite the ordeal."
My stomach dropped.
"Lord Garrick mentioned it was your dedication to your work that led to this," a reporter pressed. "Care to comment?"
I parted my lips—
But before I could say a word, Garrick's fingers dug into my arm. Hard.
A sharp sting shot up my side, and I couldn't help the small wince that escaped me.
"Not tonight," he cut in, his tone still polite, composed. "We're here to commemorate. I'm afraid we won't be taking any questions, gentlemen. Let's simply turn our attentions to the important causes being highlighted tonight."
Without even bothering to wait for their response, he tugged me forward. His grip tight, steering me up the steps and through the grand doors before anyone could push further.
The noise dulled the moment we crossed the threshold.
Warm light spilling across polished marble floors, the hum of conversation replacing the chaos outside. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting a golden glow over the crowd gathering within.
For a brief second, I thought...maybe I could disappear into it.
But then I saw them.
Standing there, by the foyer just beyond the entrance like they were waiting for me.
Pippa's father, Uncle Alan.
And beside him, Marcus.
Both dressed in dark suits, their presence cutting clean through the room like something solid. Unmoving. Unmissable.
Marcus's gaze found mine almost instantly, steady and intent. Like he had been searching for me the moment I walked in.
For a second, everything else faded. All the noise, the lights, even Garrick's grip still frim around my arm. All of it dissolved beneath the weight of that look.
Something in my chest tightened, sharp and unfamiliar. Dangerous.
Then movement caught my eye.
Victoria rushed up to them, dressed in a light blue gown that brought out her eyes, drawing attention with every step. Her blond cascading down her back in curls. Without hesitation, she slipped her arm around Marcus's.
My breath hitched before I could stop it.
Her lips parted when she noticed me. Her expression shifting, her eyes widening slighlty with surprise.
All while the moment between us shattered.