CHAPTER 3
1148 Words
Black limousines, the types that ooze grandeur and luxury, rolled into the grand DeLancey estate in procession.
The staff stood in a neat line, heads bowed, uniforms pristine. Security men in tailored suits flanked the arrival point, their eyes sweeping the courtyard.
The DeLancey family had rolled out their finest to meet the billionaire casino mogul who, unknown to them, had already vacuumed their floors that morning.
Lord Harrison, clad in a tailored navy suit, strolled in with the casual grace of a man who owned every chair he passed by; he was the houseboy they had overlooked just hours ago, but now masked in wealth, charisma, and demure.
His entourage followed clean suits, earpieces, and silent nods. The scent of money came with them too.
DeLancey stepped forward with his wife trailing closely behind him.
“Lord Harrison, what an honor to have you,” he said.
He bowed slightly. “The honor is mine, Lord DeLancey, and I must say, your estate lives up to its legacy.”
Lady Delancey joined him, her voice dipped in social grace. “Welcome. I trust your journey was smooth.”
“As smooth as one can expect through city traffic,” Harrison replied with a knowing smile. “But the view here is more welcoming.”
Celeste stepped forward, her beauty ever charming. She curtsied softly. “My Lord.”
Lord Harrison’s gaze met hers. She was polite, graceful, soft, and all. Good. “Lady Celeste. I’ve heard much of your grace, and none of it is exaggerated.”
A moment of subtle tension passed between them.
Uncle Hadrian chimed in, offering a handshake that lingered half a second too long.
“We’ve been eager to meet you. The casino business is no joke in this family, especially not when you own half of Vegas."
Lord Delancey had arranged a private tea in the East Garden for his guests and, most likely, son-in-law.
So as the group fell into steps and entered the Garden which had a long table dressed in white linen and glass teapots, Lady Colette plopped into her seat with a dramatic sigh.
“Let the strategic matchmaking commence.”
Lady DeLancey shot her a shameful look across the table.
Lord Harrison pulled out a chair for Celeste before taking his own while he lifted his teacup in comradeship.
“To family… and new beginnings.” They all raised theirs in return amidst soft chatters and light-hearted laughter. Lord Delancey who has been silent all along, chimed his glass with a spoon, calling for attention.
“You strike me as a man who doesn’t bet without stacking the odds first.” Kairo’s eyes glinted. “ I don't gamble blind. Lord” Fallon muttered, “Well, I like him.”
Lady Delancey glared daggers at her daughter, then turned back to their guest.
“We’re honored to have you, Lord Harrison. Truly, few men would entertain a formal arrangement so graciously these days.”
Just then, a servant entered briskly. “Pardon the interruption, Lady Delancey. Miss Evelyn Holt is requesting an audience. She claims it’s urgent.”
Lady Delancey’s face soured like milk left in the sun. “Tell her I’m unavailable.”
“Actually,” Harrison said, his voice too calm, “I’d be curious to meet this famous journalist. Rumours have it that she sees what others miss.”
Hadrian’s grin thinned. “I consider her a nuisance.”
Everyone busted into graceful laughter, unless, of course, Lord Harrison. Evelyn appeared next, uninvited.
“Apologies,” she said, dropping into a seat without permission. “Heard there was tea and I’m a journalist who hates missing one.”
Lady DeLancey’s face twitched. “This is a private family, Evelyn.”
“Oh, I’m practically family,” Evelyn cut in, pouring herself a cup. “Aren’t I, Uncle Hadrian?” He raised a brow. “Your father was a stubborn man. You inherited that.”
"Oh, and he must be proud of me from among the Heavens."
Lighthearted laughter, champagne popping, glass clinking, and Uncle Hadrian telling dry jokes.
Later that evening, the engagement ceremony began in the estate.
Musicians, dressed in velvet and adorned with gold pins, played a soft classical piece casino bows gliding in harmony as if the night itself bowed to the couple.
Guests in silks, jewels, and tailored suits decorated the grounds, champagne in hand, soft and restrained laughter, the kind reserved for the elite. Rows of lanterns floated overhead, swaying like stars descending upon the earth to witness a union built not on love, but legacy.
After the exchange of engagement rings, the musicians took over deep into the evening while the guests retired to their respective suites.
The evening was cold and misty. It had drizzled an hour ago, which had forced some guests to retire to their suite quite early.
But the musicians were still strumming away soft tunes and jazzy quartets. By the window of a guest suite stood Lord Harrison; he had taken one champagne too many and had felt a little tipsy, but no one had noticed.
Across the table, his houseboy apron and shirt were hidden out of sight. He wouldn't want the household to discover, too early, that he was Kairo, their houseboy.
Lady Celesta crossed the lawn and reached into his suite. She had changed into silky pyjamas, and her hair was carefully packed. Crossing her hands over Harrison's neck, she leaned in for a warm embrace.
"You slipped away," she said softly, her voice barely louder than the breeze.
Lord Harrison turned, his gaze meeting hers, something unreadable flickering behind his calm expression. "And yet here you are too."
They stood in silence for a moment, their eyes locked into each other, the atmosphere was tense.
Everything stopped existing. Harrison caressed her neck, it was smooth and glassy like refined porcelain. He held her hair and kissed her, savoring the depth of her breath.
"Are you sure about this?... I sometimes feel I'm not making the best decision." Celesta whispered, stepping closer.
Harrison reached out and touched her waist while he fumbled with the buttons of her pyjamas. He held her closer and she leaned into his touch.
It was Heavenly. One slow, uncertain step brought her closer. Then another. Until their bodies were nearly touching, hearts drumming between them. She looked at him with intense passion, arms locked with his.
He kissed her again, more deeply than before. He allowed his hands to play with the straps of her brazier.
As the distant music played on, they slipped away from the terrace into the quiet shadows of the suite, where restraint gave way to passion, and two bodies tangled in a moment that neither politics nor family could deny.
What happened beyond those closed doors belonged to them alone; but the fire, once lit, would not be easily extinguished.
- Writer
