Chapter 4 The doorbell rang, and when I opened the door, a delivery man stood there holding a box, the kind that usually held a gown.
Nick used to prepare my outfits for these occasions, and I just assumed this was more of the same.
After signing for the package, I opened it to find a stunning pale yellow fishtail gown inside.
“What are you doing? Nick’s voice startled me.
He snatched the dress from my hands, his sharpness cutting deeper than intended.
I was confused, a bitter taste already forming in my mouth. “What’s wrong?”
He seemed to realize he had overreacted, his expression softening for a moment as if he were about to explain.
But just then, his phone rang. In an instant, his entire presence softened, the hard lines of fury melting into an expression almost tender, which was rkly at odds with the tempest of moments before.
He grabbed his car keys, hurried out the door, and paused in the doorway. “I’ll send you another dress. A driver will take you there.”
I didn’t say a word, but the hurt was already uncontrollable, gnawing at my insides.
That evening, I was dressed in the new gown, and the driver dropped me off at the hotel. It hit me then that I had no invitation.
Usually, Nick would escort me in. I called him. It took him a minute to answer.
His voice was laced with impatience, “What is it now?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t have an invite. I can’t get in.”
I heard him sigh, muttering under his breath about the inconvenience, “I’ll be right there.”
Once, a single tear from me would have pained him for hours. Now, just accompanying me to a party felt like a burden.
After nearly ten minutes, he finally appeared and spoke briefly to security, and we entered.
The hall was already buzzing with guests who had come to partake in the evening’s festivities.
Inside, he quickly abandoned me to rush off somewhere else.
I found a quiet corner and sat down, observing the room.
Soon, the host began speaking, “Welcome to the charity event hosted by Mr. Rothschild.”
So, Nick was tonight’s star. No wonder he needed me here.
Over the years, he had built his brand around philanthropy, partly because of my background as an orphan.
We used to visit the orphanage together. But in the past year, he hadn’t gone back once; only I did.
Now, I realized that whatever love he’d shown back then was real. Today, it was all for show, for the company’s reputation.
