anwhile, back in the mansion, Serena pushed herself off the bed, her movents slow and deliberate as she tried to shake off the lingering frustration from her earlier encounter with Lucian. She proceeded to get ready for another round of shopping, her mind already racing with thoughts of what she might need for the upcoming gala.
She would have just ordered a dress online, but after one particularly disastrous experience with an online vendor—where the dress arrived two sizes too small and a completely different color than advertised—she decided against it. Especially since the occasion she needed the dress for was taking place the next day. There was no room for errors this ti.
Also, she wanted to leave the house. Staying in only made her think about the infuriating jerk of a husband who owned the place. Every corner of the mansion seed to remind her of him. She needed a break, even if it was just for a few hours.
Soon, she was ready and out of the house, her steps quick and purposeful as she made her way to the waiting car. She was thankful that she didn’t see or run into Lucian before she left. She believed that would have brought her bad luck, and the last thing she needed was another argunt with him.
"Do you have any store in mind, ma’am?" Darrell asked after driving a distance away from the house. His mood was pleasant, and he was giving off positive energy, which helped Serena relax. His calm deanor was a stark contrast to the tension she had been feeling all morning.
"I don’t even know anywhere in this city. How do you expect to have a store in mind? I thought that had already been taken care of," Serena said, her tone a mix of amusent and exasperation. She leaned back in her seat, letting out a small sigh as she stared out the window at the passing scenery.
"Well, I thought you might have a favorite or particular store in mind. But not to worry—I know the perfect place to get what we need," Darrell said, letting out a warm smile. "And if you want," he continued, "we could drive around the city after the shopping so you can get familiar with so places."
"That would be appreciated," Serena said, returning his smile. She felt a small flicker of gratitude toward Darrell.
They drove around until they arrived at a particular store that had Serena widening her eyes in surprise.
"Lacrare?" she asked in puzzlent, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Lacrare was the most popular clothing store, known for its unique designs made especially for the extrely rich and famous. The store was a symbol of luxury, and the prices of their clothes were through the roof. Serena had heard of it, of course, but she had never imagined she would ever step foot inside one.
"You know Lacrare?" Darrell noted, bringing the car to a smooth stop.
"Everyone knows Lacrare. I just didn’t know where it was located, and I don’t know why we are here," Serena spoke, already feeling quite anxious. Her hands fidgeted in her lap as she tried to calm her nerves.
She wasn’t used to this life of extravagance. Although her father had left a aningful amount of money for her and Elias, she never saw the need to spend recklessly. She had always been practical, preferring to save rather than splurge on unnecessary luxuries.
Also, she had never attended a gala, and she knew nothing about what to wear to one. The thought of standing out in a room full of wealthy, influential people made her stomach churn.
"We’re here to get you the perfect dress, of course. You are already beautiful, ma’am, but with the right dress and accessories, you’d turn even the stiffest of necks," Darrell answered, adding a bit of praise to his words. His tone was light, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made Serena feel a little more at ease.
Serena smiled. "You are good at flattery, Darrell," she uttered, following him toward the entrance and swallowing down her nervousness. She took a deep breath as they approached the grand doors of the store, trying to steady herself.
"I do not flatter you, ma’am. I only speak the truth," Darrell responded, finally stepping inside the store and ushering her in.
Serena’s eyes widened slightly in awe as she took in the sight before her. The store was the kind of place where the rich shopped without hesitation, where dresses were more than just fabric—they were statents of power and status. The interior was a blend of modern elegance and opulence, with polished marble floors, towering mirrors, and racks of designer dresses that seed to glimr under the soft lighting.
She felt out of place among the racks of extravagant gowns, each one more elaborate than the last. The shimring chandeliers cast a golden glow over everything, making the entire store feel even more intimidating. The air was filled with the faint scent of expensive perfu, and the soft hum of classical music played in the background, adding to the luxurious atmosphere.
She didn’t belong here, but she couldn’t change her mind at that point. They were already there, and if Darrell had chosen the store, it ant Lucian could afford whatever was in there, right?
As the search began, Serena’s eyes landed on a simple navy-blue dress, elegant but understated. It wasn’t dripping in jewels or made of rare imported silk. It was just... nice. And probably the least expensive option in the store. She reached for the price tag, but Darrell’s hand was faster, plucking the dress from the rack before she could check.
"Please don’t worry about the price, ma’am," he said smoothly, as if he had read her thoughts. "Boss is more than capable of handling it." He added, before a small frown appeared on his face.
"What is it?" Serena asked, her curiosity piqued.
"I think this one will be better for the occasion and your status," Darrell spoke out, pointing to an elegant black dress opposite the one she had just picked.
rely looking at the dress, Serena didn’t need to be told that it would cost an arm and a leg. It was beautiful, eye-catching, and she could already tell it would look good on her. The fabric shimred subtly under the light, and the intricate beadwork along the neckline added a touch of sophistication.
But she didn’t want to look that good when going out with Lucian. He didn’t deserve it. Also, he might even end up using it against her. So, to annoy him, she stopped Darrell, who was already reaching for the black dress, seeing how her eyes sparkled when she set her eyes on it.
"Don’t," she said firmly.
"Why? You don’t like it?" Darrell asked, confused.
"I prefer this one. I’ll go try it out," she answered, then started toward the dressing room, clutching the navy-blue dress tightly in her hands.
Just as she rounded a corner, she walked straight into soone.
Serena stumbled back, her heart leaping before her gaze locked onto a face she never wanted to see again.
Mitchell.
"Oh, hi. I think I’ve seen this face before," Mitchell spoke with a thoughtful expression, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Oh, yes, I rember now. The woman in Lucian’s house." Her eyes narrowed soon after the words dropped from her lips. "Are you his distant relative or the rumored contract wife?"
Serena’s grip tightened around the dress in her hands, her knuckles whitening as she tried to keep her composure.
"Why are you so interested in my identity? If you really want to know who I am, ask Lucian himself," Serena shot back, her voice cold and steady despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface.
"So bitter, even when I’m being nice to you. That can only an you are the contract wife," Mitchell noted, a sad smile settling on her face. "I understand your situation. I an, forceful entanglent with a man as cold and hard-hearted as Lucian, who has no iota of love in his heart, can be depressing as fuck."
"And so says his personal call girl," Serena retorted, her voice icy and laced with disdain.
"The one he still calls even though he’s married to you. Doesn’t that tell you sothing?" Mitchell spoke in a mocking tone, her expression switching instantly to match her tone. Her eyes glead with a mixture of amusent and malice.
"Yes, it tells that you are very shaless to stand before my presence and utter such rubbish," Serena said, her eyes blazing with defiance.
Mitchell laughed hard, the sound echoing through the store. "I’m shalessly shaless, honey. If I wasn’t shaless, I wouldn’t be in the line of business I am currently in. If I had even an iota of sha, I wouldn’t be able to afford anything in this store. So, you see, my dear, being shaless is my personality, and I love it. Tell , what has being shaful brought you? Marriage to a man who will never love you?"
Serena scoffed, bringing a smile back to her face, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "You are funny. Did he tell you that I am craving his love or affection?"
"Oh, you’re not?" Mitchell asked, looking genuinely surprised. Soon, her expression switched again to one of condescending contempt. "That’s good then. Considering your poor taste in outfits," she threw a look of disgust to the dress Serena was holding onto, "and the fact that he still finds worthy of gracing his bed tells that you are really not his type—just as the rumor suggests. Lucian has no heart, but his body is mine. Let’s keep it that way, shall we, so we wouldn’t have a problem."
Mitchell dropped a light threat, then walked away after saying that, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor.
Reviews
All reviews (0)