The Announcement

“Amara and I are getting married at the end of the month.”

The end of the month? That’s in two weeks!

The music stops. Someone coughs. A waiter drops their tray.

We’re surrounded by an array of reactions, each one more shocked than the next. I don’t blame them. I thought Adrian and I had a month to sort out our engagement, but now we only have two weeks.

The silence is deafening. My stomach threatens to dump its contents on the shiny marble floor, but somehow, I swallow back the acid crawling up my throat.

You got this.

“Surprise!” I beam, hoping to counteract Adrian’s less than exciting display. I rip my hand out of his and throw it up so everyone can see my engagement ring. A million colors bounce off the diamond, drawing everyone’s attention toward the symbol of my impending doom.

“Welcome to the family, Amara.” Theo, Adrian’s youngest brother steps out from the crowd. While most people think he looks like Adrian with his brown hair and dark gaze, I find them distinctly different. Because where Theo has some hints of humanity peeking through, Adrian lacks the same compassion.

Felix breaks through the crowd and raises his drink in the air. “Family therapy is on Thursday nights. Don’t be late!”

A few people laugh, and somehow the tension eases enough to make breathing bearable again.

“One hour and we’re leaving,” Adrian huffs under his breath, low so only I can hear him.

“I was going to suggest thirty minutes, but if you insist.”

He doesn’t smile, but his eyes light up as they land on me. His chuff of air is practically a belly laugh. We both know we will never make it out of here in half an hour. Not when Adrian is the first Sterling to get married since Seth over thirty years ago. This kind of announcement is right up there with the prince of England having a child, and everyone is going to want a few minutes with him.

Whatever response Adrian has is snuffed out as his father, Seth Sterling, parts the crowd like Moses. The intensity of his displeasure could make a lesser man crumble to his knees.

Mine lock into place. I’ve spent enough time around him to learn he feeds off people’s weaknesses.

Adrian feigns indifference except for the tiny tic in his jaw. He’s a master of hiding his emotions, but every now and then, one appears. A small clench of his jaw. The quick flex of his hand. A narrowing of his eyes before returning to his cool gaze.

“Relax.” I lean into him and rub my hand over his pounding heart.

You’re not the only one who is nervous. Looks like Adrian is more human than I thought.

“Son.” Seth doesn’t bother acknowledging my presence, as per usual. Since I serve no purpose for him, I cease to exist. Simple as that.

“Father.” Adrian tips his chin.

They both look eerily similar with their brown hair and empty, dark stares. But that’s where their likeness ends. I’m sure Seth was handsome at one point in his life, but his misuse of alcohol has aged him in a way that Botox can’t fix.

“I figure some congratulations are in order.” Seth smiles at me for the first time ever. The fakeness pouring off him makes me nauseous. “My son is lucky to have you in his life.”

Yeah, right. The man knows nothing about me. Even after three years, he still calls me Irene whenever he needs to get patched through to Adrian’s phone line.

“Save your display for the cameras.” Adrian wraps his arm around me. While his gesture comes off robotic, I appreciate his ability to try to make this look legitimate. Try being the key word. He’s stiffer than my nana’s cocktails, and those suckers can get anyone drunk from a single cup.

“Fine advice from someone putting on quite the show right now.”

Adrian’s hand grips onto my waist with punishing force. “Just because you’re bitter about love doesn’t mean the rest of us feel the same way.”

He scoffs. “You don’t know the first thing about love.”

“They say you can learn a lot from others’ mistakes, so thanks for that.”

There’s a crack in Seth’s wolfish smile. It’s so brief, I almost miss it, but the pain etched into his eyes throws me off.

Don’t fall for it. It’s not real.

“You know nothing about what your mother and I went through, and I hope you never have to experience something like that during your marriage.” Seth turns on his heel and exits the ballroom without paying mind to anyone around him.

So much for appearing like a united, happy family to the public.

Not many things can get under Seth’s skin, but the mention of his wife always does it. It’s hard not to feel bad for the man who lost his spouse to cancer. But then I remember how much of a dick he was to his sons, and all my pity is wiped away.

Someone new enters our vicinity and calls out Adrian’s name.

“Let’s get this over with,” Adrian mutters under his breath.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Adrian Sterling got engaged—” The man completely overlooks me as he slaps Adrian on the shoulder and whispers into his ear.

Guest after guest comes up to us to offer their congratulations. Each one overlooks me while kissing up to Adrian, which adds to the acid growing in the pit of my stomach. My only source of entertainment tonight is watching Adrian fake his way through every encounter, but even that loses its novelty after an hour.

You might as well be invisible.

The DJ announces for everyone to clear the dance floor as a slow melody begins to stream from the speakers. I instantly know I’m in trouble.

Adrian must pick up on it too because our eyes connect across the room. Usually I would laugh at the tiny tic in his jaw, but seeing as I’m a part of this torture, I can barely find it in me to smile. He walks across the room and grabs my hand.

“Do you know how to dance?” I ask low enough for only him to hear.

“Of course I know how to dance.” Although Adrian’s face remains blank as a white canvas, the way his hand grasps onto mine in a chokehold reveals exactly how he feels about all this.

He hates the attention as much as you.

My whole body feels as if someone set me on fire. A hundred pairs of eyes pierce my carefully crafted exterior, and my anxiety only grows as Adrian tugs me toward his body. One of his hands snakes around my back while the other holds on to my trembling hand with enough force to cut off my circulation.

The tips of his fingers skate across the top of my ass. Sparks shoot off my skin from the contact, and I suck in a breath.

“Stop doing that,” I say through my forced smile.

“Doing what?”

“Touching me like that.”

“You’re my fiancée,” he replies like that explains everything.

His hand retreats, and I release a sigh, only to startle when he yanks me forward so there isn’t an inch of space left between us. Breathing is officially optional at this point.

“What kind of slow dancing is this?”

“The kind that has everyone filming us.”