Page 96 of The Billionaire's Pact

Cassidy: Oh, yeah, I read something about it. That’s exciting. I wish him all the best. So, what are you wearing?

I asked Isla to take a photo of me in the designer gown. She waited until I’d adjusted my fall of curls back from my shoulders, repositioned the rhinestone black and onyx necklace, then had me pose, showing off the split in the leg and high heels.

Cassidy: Holy shit! You look damn hot!

She added a row of fire emojis.

Cassidy: What does the back look like?

Adelina: It’s mostly backless and stops just above my butt.

It was more skin than I ever showed outside of the bedroom.

Cassidy: That’s going out in every press. I’m going to repost it everywhere! How are you?

I took a deep breath. There was still something bothering me.

Adelina: Marjorie, his ex, will be there tonight. She said they were in love.

Cassidy: So what? He’s with you now. If she had a chance, you’d already know it.

I wish I could believe it to be so.

Rocco didn’t react when the press had mentioned it, but it would be different seeing them together tonight. And if I was honest with myself, Cassidy could be wrong. He could still be in contact with her and had only told me we were exclusive so I would drop it. No. That doesn’t sound like him. But that didn’t stop the alarm bells from going off in my head. We were arranged and for the sake of appearances that he’s been with me. What if I’m the other woman here? What if he’s still together with her in secret and I’m just his burden?

“Adelina, it’s time,” Isla said.

Adelina: I have to go.

Cassidy: I can’t wait to see you. I miss you like crazy.

My heart felt full.

Adelina: I miss you, too.

We pulled up in the row of limos outside a glass-paneled building with a red carpet lined with the press, attendees, and crowds of tourists gated off, waiting to see the stars at the event. My nerves went jittery, but then I saw Rocco step out from the awning, and my heart lifted.

“Mr. Marini, over here…Rocco…Rocco.” We stood nearby as an entertainment news host introduced him to her audience with her microphone and camera. “That’s Rocco Marini’s smoldering scowl, posing before the Versace backdrop. He’s the new ambassador for their Gentleman’s brand, and everyone’s wet dream. The Versace single-breasted custom embellished suit he has on will likely become iconic. I particularly like the black, chain-fitted shirt they dressed him in. You can see more of it in the photo behind him. It’s feminine-masculine. It’s Androgynous or, should we say, erogenous. Love. Love. Love.”

I was just as captivated watching him. His penetrating gaze honed in on me. My pulse went into overdrive as he left his spot and came over to greet me. His eyes scanned over my dress intensely, taking in the silk on my curves and the low neckline. I turned to show him the naked back, then turned back with a shy smile.

Rocco’s eyes widened, his jaw tense. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Hmm. That dress is showing a lot of skin.” He brushed his lips to my ear and inhaled sharply, and I shivered.

My dress was similar in style to what other women had on. “You don’t like it?”

His arm went around my waist. “Oh, I love it. And so does every man here. Seeing you so sexy is distracting. It’s heating my blood. I’m devolving.”

My grin broadened. “Are you going to throw me over your shoulder, caveman?”

“I might, my soon-to-be wife.” He kissed my cheek with a noisy smack.

Cameras flashed around us. I took quick breaths to calm my pulse. We broke apart, ending what was a private moment, but there was no privacy here.

We followed Isla to the theater’s red carpet for the premiere. Around us were many film and television stars, producers, directors, designers, artists, wealthy patrons, as well as up-and-comers. Some people I recognized, but I didn’t dare gape even though I wanted to.

Morgan Steele came strolling up with his blond locks and sleeveless suit that showed off his tattoos and muscular arms. He had Lulu Cummings, the lead actress in the film, a modern Les Misérables Cosette, on his arm. I walked over to the side to watch Rocco pose with them and a few other actors in the film.

“Congratulations on your wedding,” a female voice said behind me. I turned to find Marjorie Storm. She was wearing a white silk single-strap dress, and her skin was illuminated with a shimmering glitter, making her look radiant.

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