Claimed by His Stepbrother

Chapter 08

Chapter 08-Evelyn

The next morning started with the shrill ring of my phone. I was still wrapped in bed, when Clara’s name flashed across the screen. I answered quickly, relieved to hear her voice.

“Hey, babe,” She said, her voice rushed. “don't hate me, okay?”

I sat up straighter. “What happened?”

“I can't make it to the gala tonight.” She blurted out. “Something came up at work—an emergency project. My boss would kill me if I left. I tried to get out of it, but…” she sighed heavily. “I'm sorry.”

My chest sank. Clara had promised she'd be here, but then she cancels last minute. I can't blame her since she was supposed to attend because her boss couldn't make it, her boss probably had new plans.

I rested my head against the headboard, closing my eyes. “Clara… I understand. Work comes first.”

“I feel horrible,” she said quickly. “You’re going to be fine, though. You’re Evelyn Hartwell. You’ll glow, with or without me.”

I laughed softly, though it came out hollow. “That’s easy for you to say.”

“I mean it,” she insisted. “You’ve always been the strong one, even when you didn’t think so. And besides, everyone will have their eyes on you tonight. That dress—oh my God, I wish I could see it in person. Promise me you’ll send me pictures?”

“I will.” I said, smiling faintly.

“Good. And… Paul will be there, right?”

The smile faltered. I didn’t answer immediately. “He said he wouldn’t.” I muttered.

Clara sighed again, but softer this time. “You just focus on being you, okay? Call me after. I want every detail.”

“Alright. Take care, babe.”

We hung up, and I stared at the ceiling for a while, the silence pressing down on me. It shouldn’t have hurt so much that she wasn’t coming, but the truth was, a part of me needed her. Without her, the day would feel lonelier.

I pushed myself out of bed and padded to the mirror. My reflection stared back, tired eyes rimmed with shadows, lips pressed thin. I dragged my fingers through my hair, trying to see what Clara claimed to see—that strength, that glow. All I found was a woman caught between two men, and a heart that no longer obeyed her.

I turned away before the mirror could say more.

***

Evening came faster than I wanted. Attendants arrived at my suite with boxes, gowns, jewelry and tools I recognized. Lights glowed brighter, staff rushed about with urgent faces, and cars pulled up one after another outside. The gala night had arrived.

The dress I chose was the sapphire silk gown. Every time I looked in the mirror, I told myself I could do this. But underneath, I was shaking. Paul wasn’t here, and Adrian was. That alone made my stomach twist.

When they finally helped me into the gown, I caught my breath. The fabric slid down my body like liquid light, hugging and flowing in all the right places. The mirror showed a woman who could walk into any room and command it. For a moment, I almost believed I was her.

“Magnifique,” one of them whispered. “You look absolutely stunning, Madame.”

I whispered back, “Thank you.”

***

The car ride to the Palais Garnier felt unreal. Spotlights swept the sky, camera flashes went wild, and crowds pressed forward for a look at the guests walking the red carpet.

When I stepped out of the car, heads turned. Flashes went off, voices rose, and for a moment I was blinded. I put out my best smile, lifted my chin, and walked forward.

Inside, the ballroom was alive with music and laughter. Crystal chandeliers spilled light across the marble floors, and tables shimmered with silver and gold. My heart swelled at the beauty, of course this wasn't my first time here, but the decors this time around were different.

I accepted a glass of champagne, and tried to blend in. I kept moving, kept talking. If I stayed busy, maybe I could forget.

But then I felt it. That feeling I’d come to dread—the weight of someone’s eyes on me.

I looked up. And there he was.

Adrian.

He stood across the room, in black tailored perfection, speaking to someone yet watching me. He didn’t need to say a word. His eyes already had me cornered. When he raised his glass at me in a silent toast, my hand trembled around mine.

I turned away quickly, desperate to focus on anything else. I laughed at jokes I didn’t hear, nodded at strangers I didn’t know. I tried to tell myself he couldn’t reach me here.

But then, the music changed. The orchestra shifted into the first waltz. Couples began to move toward the floor, and before I could take a step back, I felt a shadow behind me.

My breath caught, my hand tightening around the glass I held.

“May I?”

I turned and found Adrian standing there, hand extended, waiting. Everyone nearby was already watching. To refuse him would be louder than to accept. My pride told me to walk away. My fear told me not to draw attention. My heart… my heart betrayed me.

Against every warning in my head, I placed my hand in his.

The floor opened for us as though we belonged there. He led with confidence, every step sure. The room blurred, and for a second I forgot about everything—Paul, the crowd, even myself. The only thing I could feel was the press of his palm against my back, his fingers firm around mine.

“You shouldn’t have paid for my gown,” I whispered, keeping my smile fixed for the crowd.

“And yet you wore it,” he murmured back, smugness hidden behind his perfect smile. “That tells me what I needed to know.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m inevitable.”

He spun me, and when I faced him again, his eyes held me like chains.

I wanted to look away, to end it, but then he leaned closer, his lips nearly brushing my ear. “Paul isn’t the man you think he is.”

My chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s kept things from you,” Adrian said quietly, his voice sharp. “Things he did in the past. Things that would break you, and when he does, I will be there to pick up the pieces.”

I pulled back slightly, shocked. “That’s—”

But before I could finish, a sharp voice cut through.

“Adrian.”

We both turned. Paul stood at the edge of the floor, his smile gone, his eyes hard as steel.

The music faded into the background. The crowd seemed to pause.

Paul’s gaze flicked to our joined hands, then back to Adrian. His jaw ticked.

“Hand her over,” he said coldly. “Hand my wife over to me.”

And just like that, the world stopped.