“I wonder why she wants to see me,” I muse out loud.
My father’s head snaps up, his shoulder tensing as his anger builds. My heart sinks, and I lower my eyes, wishing I’d kept my mouth closed. “You should be grateful she wants to see you at all,” he tells me, his tone threatening. “You’d better act grateful and civilized. If I hear one bad thing about your meeting today, I’ll ensure Chloe won’t be able to walk out of this house for at least a week.”
A chill runs down my spine, and my stomach turns. My first instinct is to tell him she shouldn’t be punished for my impudence, but I know better than that. “Yes, Father,” I say instead.
My feet are unsteady as I walk back to my bedroom to double-check my makeup and outfit. I learned long ago what the consequences are if I try to look normal for once. My father never lets me forget the role I’m supposed to play. A future Windsor. A soft depreciating huff escapes my lips, disgust settling in my stomach. I’m tired of pretending, of being scared, yet that’s all that lies ahead of me. Today, my fear will simply shift from my father to Dion’s grandmother.
I’m near-numb as I make my way down, unsure what she might want from me. She invites me over at least once a month, but my father has always had an excuse ready. What makes today different?
My eyes widen a fraction when I see her black limousine parked in front of my house, a shiver running down my spine. I hadn’t meant to make her wait. The last thing I want to do is get on her nerves before I even have a chance to greet her.
“Good afternoon, Grandma Anne,” I murmur politely as I slip into the backseat next to her.
She smiles at me, her green eyes so startlingly similar to Dion’s that I find myself staring a moment too long. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she tells me as she wraps her arm around me, in a side hug. I tense, surprised by the gesture, and she throws me another reassuring smile. “Something always seems to come up when I ask you to come over. I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”
My heart stutters as I try to decipher her words. Does she know my father was purposely keeping me from her? Is she blaming me for it? “It’s good to see you,” I murmur simply, choosing my words carefully.
The privacy window between the driver and us lowers, and I tense as Maria comes into view. “Hi, Faye,” she says, throwing me a sweet smile. “I hope you don’t mind me tagging along.”
I stare at her numbly for a moment, my father’s words coming to mind. There’s no way Maria is merely his secretary. He’s with her every second of every day, and he has been for years.
Dion denied it, but could there be a thread of truth in my father’s words? The thought makes me oddly uncomfortable, in a way I’ve never experienced before. She certainly is beautiful, with her perfectly straight shoulder-length blonde hair and her flawless makeup.
Maria’s smile wavers, and I finally snap out of it. “Hi, Maria,” I say, my voice even and my lips tipped up into a polite smile. If there’s one thing I excel at, it’s acting like everything is fine while anxiety eats me up inside.
She looks like there’s more she wants to say, but she ends up nodding at me politely before straightening in her seat. I follow suit and glance back at Grandma Anne, only to find her studying me with an intent gaze. She grins at me, her expression softening, but something about it seems calculated. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something about her reminds me of my father.
“We’re going to Dion’s home on the Windsor estate,” she tells me. “Dion is having it renovated, and I thought you might want to decorate it yourself. Maria is here to help with anything you might want to order. Dion hasn’t hired a local personal assistant yet, so she’s filling in for now,” Grandma Anne explains. “Usually, she doesn’t handle any of Dion’s personal errands, but she will for now.”
I nod thoughtfully. I’ve tried so hard not to think about anything beyond the wedding that I didn’t stop to wonder what it’d be like to live with Dion. I’ve certainly never considered what our house would look like, and I wonder if Grandma Anne realizes just how much it means to me that she’s asking for my input.
I stare out the window as large gates appear in the distance. The Windsor estate never ceases to impress me, but at the same time, it’s always made me feel endlessly inadequate. Could I ever truly belong here?
Chapter Fifteen
Faye
I stand behind Grandma Anne as Maria presses her thumb against the scanner at Dion’s front door. It swings open moments later, and something akin to envy washes over me. Dion must trust her implicitly if she has such easy access to his home when I’ve never even been here before.
“Dion and I designed this part of the house so that there’s plenty of open space,” she tells me, gesturing at what I assume will become the living room. “All of this glass brings so much natural light into the house, especially in the morning.”
Something about her tone makes me uncomfortable, and I can’t figure out why. She’s being perfectly polite, but with each word she speaks, my despondency increases. Dion told me that he truly had been working in Spain, but he never denied the rumors about them fully. Were they dating until recently?
I bite my lip and take in the expansive glass wall overlooking an outdoor pool, trying my best to shake off the thought. Maria catches me looking and smiles knowingly. “The pool is probably my favorite part of the house,” she says. “It’s the only thing we didn’t change.”
There’s something about that wistful smile of hers that grates on me. It’s almost as though she’s reminded of memories she made with Dion in there, and I can’t help but wonder what exactly she might be thinking of. No doubt, it involves a half-naked Dion. He’s extraordinarily handsome in a suit, so I can only imagine how irresistible he must look without it.
An unfamiliar emotion rushes through me, and my eyes widen a fraction when I identify it as possessiveness. I’ve never felt that before, not even with Eric.
Maria sighs, and my possessiveness quickly transforms into guilt. Maybe Eric and I aren’t the only ones left heartbroken by this marriage. If not for me, would Dion be marrying Maria? They complement each other perfectly. She’s closer to him in age and they’ve always worked well together. Even physically, she’s a better fit for him with her height. My heart aches when I imagine the two of them together, and the feeling catches me by surprise.
“I was thinking of adding a large round sofa,” Maria tells me. “Probably gray. I think I’ll go with a dark marble dining table as well.”
I tense as she continues to tell me how she plans to decorate the house. The way she’s speaking makes it sound like she plans to be here often, and I stand back in shock, unease running down my spine. It’s something I hadn’t seriously considered before, but her presence here might be something I’ll have to get used to. Dion doesn’t seem to be a violent person, but that doesn’t mean he won’t hurt me in other ways.
“Maria,” Grandma Anne says, her tone sharp. “You’re here to take orders from Faye. Your decorating recommendations are not welcome.” Her harshness surprises me, especially because she’s always been quite gentle with me.
She turns to me then and smiles in that way I’ve become accustomed to — as though she’s trying to hide her viciousness behind a friendly exterior but can’t quite manage it. “Tell me, Faye,” she says, her voice soft and encouraging. “How would you like to decorate your home? Just speak your mind, sweetheart. Anything you want.”
I stare at her wide-eyed, caught off-guard. No one has ever asked me for my opinion so directly, and it startles me. I don’t dare glance back at Maria. I feel caught between the two women, and I hate feeling that way. At home, at least I always know who I can’t afford to offend, but here, now, I’m lost.
“I think Maria’s ideas sound great,” I lie, my voice trembling just a little despite the confidence I tried to instill in it. The way she wants to decorate is all wrong for this space. It’ll take away a lot of that beautiful light that I love, but I don’t dare speak my mind. If I upset her, Dion might take her grievances out on me later. I’d better not risk it.
“I disagree.”
I freeze when I hear Dion’s voice and turn around to find him leaning against the wall behind me. How long has he been standing there? I never heard him come in at all.
His gaze roams over my face, as though he’s searching for something, and it unsettles me. I’m not sure whether having his attention in that way is a good thing or not, and the way my heart races at the sight of him confuses me.