Alia’s face flad, and she snatched that box away from Ronan. "Thank you very much. I got this."
The n helped her carry the boxes inside the room while she changed. It was harder than expected, but Alia sohow managed to wrangle herself into the gown without tearing it.
When she erged from the room, there was only Ronan and Dimitri waiting outside for her. Ronan gave a low wolf whistle and two thumbs up as his eyes roved over her.
"Excellent. You won’t lose to Emline Hawthorne! I’ll get a hair and makeup artist for you tomorrow, and we’ll show that woman and her harpy mother!"
"Technically it’s not a contest," Alia said, but she couldn’t help but smile at Ronan’s encouragent and enthusiasm. "But where’s my father, Dimitri?"
Dimitri stared at her unblinkingly, before he quickly collected himself. "He’s in his room. He said he had to find sothing for you."
"I’m here! Millie, it’s ti for you to have this." Michael Kentwood appeared, an ornate jewelry box in his hands. "This is sothing your mother left behind. It was ant to be given to you when you first got married but your mother didn’t trust Caleb enough to give this to you during your wedding."
"Mom had better instincts than us both," Alia mused wryly. "So what is it?"
Her father cleared his throat and opened the lid of the jewelry box. Alia’s breath caught in her throat.
Inside the black velvet of the box, laid a platinum necklace that boasted a flawless blue sapphire pendant that seed to shimr with the ocean’s waves. It was set in a delicate halo of other, smaller white diamonds, each equally pristine as the next, as though they were imitating a flower slowly blooming in spring.
There were also plenty of white diamonds along the chain of the necklace, and interspersed among them were small vivid eralds, their rich color providing a striking contrast to the brilliance of the diamonds.
Alia was stunned. "How... this..."
How did her mother get her hands on this? Surely it wasn’t real. Perhaps this was simply costu jewelry. It had to be.
"I don’t know how your mother got her hands on this, but I’m sure there’s no better ti for to give it to you. Wear it with pride, Millie. We might be poor, but we won’t be stepped on!"
***
Alia adjusted the brooch that sat on her chest, a finishing touch to her outfit as gifted by Dimitri. He had insisted she wore the small accessory but didn’t further explain why she must. She took it as a good luck charm. In the short ti they had known each other, Dimitri seed to extend the sa kind of overprotective care he showed Ronan to her.
The car rolled into the driveway of the grand hotel they had booked the event at, the pebbles crunching under the rubber tires of the car.
"Are you ready?" Ronan asked.
He had gotten out of the car first and opened the door, holding his hand out for Alia to take. Between his comforting smile, his warm hand, and the flashing lights of the reporters that had gathered outside the hotel’s main entrance, Alia had no choice but to pluck up her courage.
The mont he helped her out of the vehicle, the lights were blinding. The paparazzi were like birds of prey, hawks that had gained vision of the field mice, their latest dinner. They ca swarming over in a second, completely ignoring the other guests as they fought to the front.
"Alia Kentwood!"
"Miss Kentwood, look here!"
"What do you have to say about the latest statent released by Caleb Walton on your marriage?"
"From whom did you receive the invitation to attend Emline Hawthorne and Matteo Montgory’s engagent party, especially after what happened between you three?"
They offered her no chance to breathe, cramming their questions right into her face one after another in rapid fire. It was Ronan who stood in front, blocking her from a direct view. Their bodyguards cleared a path for them to walk, but Alia could feel the burning flashes and stares that trailed behind her figure.
"Ignore them," Ronan said once they were safely inside the ballroom, an area that was restricted to a limited number of photographers, most of which were busy with the star of tonight, Emline. "They’ll eventually move on."
"Not anyti soon, I’m afraid," Alia said, wincing. However, she still braved a smile quickly after. "Perhaps we should look for Horace. I don’t think any of the other hosts here will appreciate seeing here tonight―"
"Alia! What are you doing here?"
The familiar voice forced Ronan and Alia to turn on their heels, only to et Caleb Walton standing there, two champagne flutes in his hands.
His eyebrows had shot high above his forehead as he stared at Alia. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her body, his gaze trailing down from her slender neck to the dip of her cleavage due to the off-shoulder design of her dress. He stopped at her waist, and his Adam’s apple bobbed before he hurriedly raised his eyes to et her gaze again.
"And what are you doing with him?" Caleb pressed, this ti, glaring hotly at Ronan instead. His grip on the champagne flutes tightened as he spat out the words, causing Ronan to roll his eyes.
"We were invited," Alia said evenly, not wishing to explain any further. In fact, she wished not to have any further interactions with this ex-husband of hers, especially after the disgusting offer he made her the last ti they t.
However, before she could walk away with Ronan, Caleb reached out. He hastily placed the drinks down before reaching out and grabbing Alia’s hand, holding her back.
"Hey―!"
"Why are you with Ronan Sullivan?" Caleb asked again, his grip tightening the more Alia struggled.
"What the fuck, dude?" Ronan rushed forward, tearing Alia free from Caleb’s hold. He shoved Caleb back, protectively standing in between them, Alia tucked safely behind him. "What is your problem?"
"My problem?" Caleb echoed, coldly laughing. "My problem is why is my wife here with you? The failed Sullivan heir?"
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