I Chose the Wrong Man

Chapter 10

Paige sprawled across the bed beside Vesper, twirling the delicate hairpin between her fingers with playful curiosity. "Seriously, Vesper? You're choosing Conrad? I could have sworn you used to despise the guy."

Vesper studied the sunflower-shaped pin, its golden petals catching the light. "Not despise. We just never really clicked." Her voice trailed off.

In her previous life, after Conrad walked out of the Lynd Villa, their worlds had drifted apart completely. The only whisper she had ever heard came when he took the helm of the Sterling Group and, out of courtesy, sent her an invitation to his lavish coronation ball. The truth was, the man remained as much a mystery to her now as he had been then.

"So if he's your fiance now." Paige pressed, bouncing excitedly. "Doesn't that mean he will come rushing back to see you?"

The question struck Vesper like a jolt of cold water. Of course, though no official announcement had been made, Ivy would have already notified the Sterlings. If Conrad accepted, her fingers clenched around the hairpin until its edges bit into her palm. Was he truly returning?

The hotel lobby thrummed with the kind of opulence only the Grant family could muster. Crystal chandeliers dripped light over a sea of designer gowns. Champagne towers glittered like frozen fireworks. Luna's birthday celebration had all the subtlety of a royal wedding.

"Did they invite every socialite from here to Bramfield?" Paige snorted, steering Vesper through the perfumed crowd. "At this rate, they might as well announce Ethan's engagement while they're at it."

Vesper's gaze swept across the room once, cold and dismissive, before she turned on her heel. "Mom is waiting upstairs."

Fate had a wicked sense of humor. The very same hotel hosted the Lynd family's welcome banquet for the visiting Sterling family.

Paige's elbow jabbed into Vesper's ribs. "So do you think Prince Charming has arrived yet? Heart racing? Palms sweaty?" She sang .

Before Vesper could retort, two figures materialized before them.

"You have some nerve showing your face here, Vesper." Magnus's roar turned heads across the lobby. His finger stabbed toward her like a dagger. "Luna went to your damn doorstep to invite you personally, and you threw her out like trash. You're a heartless monster who doesn't deserve to."

Ethan materialized, his hand clamping down on Magnus's shoulder with enough force to silence him. "Enough." He hissed. "You're making a scene at Luna's party."

Magnus wrenched away with a sound halfway between a growl and a sob.

Ethan's eyes zeroed in on Vesper's empty hands. "Where is your gift?" He demanded, his voice sharp enough to cut glass.

"Gift?" Vesper arched a brow. Ivy had handled all the Sterling family presents. Her mere presence was courtesy enough.

"Luna's birthday present." Ethan ground out. "And your apology. We discussed this."

A laugh, cold and mirthless, escaped Vesper's lips. "Apologize for what? Existing? Save your charity case act for the streets. I'm not here to play your games."

As if she would ever bring a gift. The fact that Luna's precious party was still standing was mercy enough.

Ethan scoffed, thinking she was just putting on a tough front. "You're standing here and still claiming you didn't come for the party? Vesper. I'm running out of patience."

His gaze snagged on the sunflower hairpin sparkling vividly in her hair, and he pointed at it sharply. "Hand that over. I'll get you a gift box. Pretend it's your present for Luna. On a day like this, you'd better behave. Don't even think about upsetting her."

Vesper's eyes turned frosty. "This belongs to me. What gives you the right to take it?"

Paige snorted in agreement. "Damn right. Her fiance gave this to her. That fake saint Luna doesn't deserve it."

Luna, who had just walked up, flinched as if she had been slapped. "Did Ethan buy this for you, Vesper?" Her voice trembled. "I have never owned anything so beautiful, but it's alright. I still cherish the yellow roses he gave me."

She forced a smile, but the bitterness in her eyes was unmistakable.

Vesper raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Cut the act. No one is competing with you for scraps. My fiance is Conrad of Bramfield, not some second-rate spare."