Rump In The Garden

The silence after Maeve and the girls left was almost suffocating. My thoughts raced with a mix of excitement, nerves, and something I couldn't quite place. I hadn't even had the chance to process everything, let alone the way she looked. And then, the doorbell rang, pulling me from my thoughts.

I took a deep breath, smoothing down the fabric of my dress, and walked to the door. When I opened it, my breath hitched.

Sylus stood there, looking every bit the part of the dashing designer that he was, and more. His suit was a deep charcoal gray, perfectly tailored to his frame, with silver accents on the lapels that matched the embellishments on my gown. The silver shirt underneath gleamed softly in the dim light, and the deep red vest and tie brought the whole look together, his fit complemented me in a way that felt... deliberate.

I found myself staring, taking in every detail—the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the suit emphasized his broad shoulders, the glint in his eyes as he watched me.

"You know," he said, his voice smooth and teasing, "I don't mind you admiring me, but shouldn't you at least invite me inside first?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I stepped aside quickly. "Oh, right! Sorry, of course. Please, come in."

He chuckled as he stepped through the doorway, his gaze sweeping across the room before settling back on me. "No need to apologize. I was enjoying having your eyes on me."

I swallowed, still feeling flustered as I gestured toward the living room. "I just need to put on my heels, and then we can go."

Before I could bend down to grab them, Sylus moved in front of me, already kneeling at my feet. "Let me."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Oh, you don't have to—"

"I insist," he interrupted, taking the heels from my hands with a smile that made my heart skip. He lifted one of my feet gently, sliding the shoe on with such care it almost made me forget how to breathe.

His fingers brushed against my skin as he adjusted the strap, and I couldn't help but feel the warmth of his touch. He moved slowly, his gaze flicking up to meet mine as he knelt there, so close, the moment intimate in a way I hadn't expected. His eyes lingered on the dress, the way it clung to me, and I could feel my pulse quicken under his gaze.

"You look..." he started, but his voice softened as if searching for the right word. His fingers lightly traced the length of my leg, making my skin tingle. "When I designed this dress, I had you in mind," he murmured, his voice low. "You were made to wear this dress, Ms. Sinclair"

I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure as his hand traveled higher, teasing its way up my thigh, stopping just at the beginning of the slit. The air between us felt thick, his face only inches from mine. His breath was warm against my skin, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me.

I really wanted him to kiss me.

My heart pounded in my chest, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn't control. Then I cleared my throat, breaking the spell. "We... we should get going. We'll be late."

He chuckled, standing gracefully and offering me his arm once again. "Of course. Lead the way, my lady."

I took his arm, my heart still racing from the closeness of the moment, and together we walked out into the night.

The drive to the gala was quiet, but not uncomfortable. I was too lost in my thoughts to speak, still trying to make sense of the tension between us. Every now and then, I'd steal glances at Sylus, wondering if he felt it too. He was calm, composed as ever, but there was something about the way he glanced at me that made me think he knew exactly what was going through my mind.

When we arrived, the scene outside the venue was a flurry of lights and movement. Paparazzi lined the red carpet, their cameras flashing as soon as we stepped out of the car. I barely had time to register the chaos before questions were being shouted in our direction.

"Mr. Thorn! Who's your date tonight?"

"Who is she wearing?"

"Is that one of your new designs?"

Sylus remained calm, extending his arm to me with a small smile. I took it, grateful for his steady presence. As I leaned into him slightly, he whispered into my ear, his breath warm and sending a shiver down my spine. "You look absolutely stunning."

I smiled, unable to find the words to respond. Together, we made our way up the steps and into the grand ballroom. The space was breathtaking—golden chandeliers, soft music, and the low hum of conversation filling the air. But despite the beauty of the room, I couldn't shake the nerves that had settled in my chest.

"You said we had to make adjustments to the Ashfords' outfits," I whispered to him as we entered.

Sylus gave me a sly grin. "I lied."

I stared at him, stunned. "You what?"

"I knew you wouldn't come otherwise," he said, his voice light with amusement. "So I had to find a way to get you here."

I shook my head, half in disbelief, half amused. "Mr. Thorn! You tricked me?"

"It was for your own good," he replied, his tone softening. "You deserve to be here tonight, Ms. Sinclair. And I wanted you here."

His words sent a warmth through me that I wasn't ready to confront, so I simply nodded, grateful and overwhelmed all at once. As we walked further into the crowd, the sound of chatter and the clinking of glasses filled the air. Sylus was quickly pulled into conversations by people eager to catch a moment with him. Business partners, fashion enthusiasts, all wanting a piece of his attention.

It was during moments like these I remembered he was my boss. The Sylus Thorn there was no way he was interested in me no matter whatever I was feeling was. And either way, I was still married to Alexander.

"You're lucky, Mr. Thorn. Such a beautiful date tonight," one man commented.

"Stunning as always, Mr. Thorn. The design is flawless."

But as I stood by his side, I began to notice the whispers. The glances from the corners of the room.

"Eww! Oh my God! What is that nasty thing on her face?!"

"Who does she think she is, flaunting that disgusting thing?"

"She couldn't even be ashamed enough to cover it up with makeup."

"She's just a charity case. Mr. Thorn must only feel sorry for her."

Each word felt like a stab, sharp and cutting. I tried to block them out, but they echoed in my head, each one chipping away at the confidence I had felt earlier. My chest tightened, the air suddenly feeling too heavy.

"I need some air," I whispered, not waiting for Sylus's response as I hurried towards the exit. The cool night air hit me like a wave as I stepped into the garden, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside me.

The stars glittered overhead, the moon casting a soft glow over the garden, but I couldn't enjoy it. Not with the weight of those words pressing down on me.

I had been so foolish, thinking I could pass off that I belonged here. The grand gala, the wealth, the glamour—it wasn't meant for someone like me. No matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I was never going to fit into this world.

The night felt cold as I wandered into the garden, needing space from the suffocating crowd inside. The further I walked, the quieter it became, until the distant sounds of laughter and music were just a faint hum.

That's when I heard it. Soft, breathy moans coming from the shadows. I froze, my heart sinking as dread curled in my stomach.

Moving closer, I stepped quietly through the trees, the sounds becoming clearer with each step. And then I saw them.

Alexander. My husband.

With my two stepsisters, tangled together in a way that made me sick to my core.