Page 55 of Where Angels Fall

For the first time, I enjoyed getting ready for an event.

Friday rolled around in a blur, and Roxy swept into my apartment like a storm, already halfway through a commentary on my life choices before she’d even set her bag down. I couldn’t stop laughing at her reaction to my closet, how she zeroed in on anything that was dark and silky.

“You own an apartment like this,” she said, sprawled across my bed like a starfish, arms flung wide. “And you haven’t invited me for a sleepover?”

She marvelled at everything, the built in fridge hidden behind seamless cabinetry, the floor to ceiling windows, the way the place felt like a luxury hotel, in her words. Her running commentary filled the space with noise and warmth, and for once, it didn’t feel so lonely up in there.

We poured champagne and tried on dresses until we both found the perfect one, and she sat behind me and did my hair. It was so foreign and so nice, that I had to keep telling myself to act normal and not like a total loser.

That feeling lasted right up until I stepped out of the car, Zeke waiting for me at the front of the event. We had to arrive separately, me on the arm of Zeke, my father’s new business associate.

My eyes flick sideways, eyeing the man who leads me through the wild crowds at the entrance, the flashing of camera’s making my head spin. He looks good, I’ll give him that. Cropped hair and groomed beard, he looks dangerous in his black suit, with all sharp lines and muscles that can be seen even through the expensive material.

His lips turn up slightly when he catches me looking, heat creeping up my face. There is something about him that has the hair on my neck standing up. I feel...nervous.

“Maddison Dally,” he murmurs softly, his hand falling to the small of my back once we step inside the venue. The noise quietens to a bearable level, and I take my first deep breath since I’ve gotten here. “Don’t you look the perfect part.”

I accept a champagne from a server walking past, my smile automatic as faces turn our way.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I ask curiously. His hand never wavers from my lower back, not daring to go lower...yet.

His mouth curves, just barely. “That you look exactly how you’re meant to,” he replies, only exacerbating my confusion. “You look like Mr Dally’s daughter.”

My stomach roils, the words landing like lead in my stomach. Instinct has me wanting to rip away from his touch, but I don’t. Because I am Mr Dally’s daughter.

“Oh, she doesn’t like that,” he hums thoughtfully, his dark eyes landing on mine, curious and watching.

Roxy waves from across the hall, champagne in hand and talking to a young server. She looks stunning, in a tight black ball gown, all her tattoos on show. Her black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail, silky strands hanging down her back. She looks completely at odds with every stuck-up person in here, and I can’t help but smile before turning to Zeke.

“What about you? What business do you have with Mr Dally?” I plaster on the fake smile that I know Ash hates, because I’m genuinely curious. My father doesn’t do business with just anyone.

He takes a slow sip of his champagne; his eyes filled with amusement as he stares at me over the glass.

“A bit of this. A bit of that.”

My brows raise at that, eyes narrowing on him. “Interesting,” I mutter. “Sounds like even you are unsure about the nature of your relationship with Mr Dally.”

He huffs a raspy laugh, a proper smile finally curving his lips. “Oh, darling. If only you knew.”

My mouth pops open to reply, to push further into what he just said, but I hear my name said from behind me. My entire body tenses, shifting under the silky blue material hugging my body.

Before turning my head, I make sure my smile is firmly in place, ready for the act.

“Senator Hargrove,” I croon, walking over to shake his hand. Of course, he holds onto it tight with his sweaty hands and brings it to his dry lips to kiss, his eyes glittering over my hand.

Bile creeps up my throat before I gently pry my hand from his.

My father stands by his side, offering me a nod for the sake of appearances, Malcolm’s loud voice already taking on a drunken slur.

“Maddison Dally. What an absolute gem you are,” he booms. “This is just really something. Oh! Have you met my wife, Jenelle?”

My attention turns to the lady standing on his other side, blonde hair cut just like mine, wiry body wearing a designer dress. But that’s not what I notice when I shake her hand. The look in her eyes. Here... but also, not quite here? Faded.

I have to swallow before my voice croaks, “Nice to meet you.”

She smiles back noncommittally, linking her arm back into her husband’s. Yet, I can’t take my eyes off her. It feels like looking into a mirror, a picture of a future me. My mouth goes dry, and the words being spoken around me, Zeke and Malcolm introducing themselves, fade into the background.

Until I feel an arm tighten around me, subtle but unmistakable, drawing my attention back to the present.