Page 29 of Misconducts & Temptation

The mirror reflected a girl who looked tired but determined. A girl who was done letting others dictate her worth.

I brushed my hair back into its usual ponytail and took a deep breath. Whatever came next, I would face it head-on.

Marion barged in without knocking, as always. Her eyes swept over me, taking in every detail with a critical gaze.

“You actually look…” she began, letting her voice trail off as if finishing the sentence would cost her something.

I stood still, my heart beating faster. Was that almost a compliment?

“No ponytail today, Elodie,” she instructed, moving closer. “Here. Let me brush your hair.”

I froze. If it had been anyone else, I might have thought it a kind gesture—something I had craved from Marion for so long and never received. But from her, it felt more like an order than an act of care.

She took the brush from my dresser and began working through my hair with methodical strokes. It felt foreign, uncomfortable. But I let her, unsure of what else to do.

“My mother was not like yours,” she started, her voice softening just a touch. “Cold. Demanding. She had high expectations for me, expectations I never understood until I became a mother myself.”

I kept my eyes on the mirror, watching her reflection as she spoke. Her movements were smooth, almost practiced.

“She believed in duty above all else,” she continued. “That’s something you need to understand now. What you’re doing… it’s saving this family after your father made those poor investment choices.”

I felt a lump forming in my throat but swallowed it down.

“My daughters shouldn’t have to pay for something he did,” she said firmly, the brush pulling slightly at a knot in my hair. “Which means it’s on you, Elodie. It’s not fair, but it’s right.”

Her words settled over me like a heavy blanket. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right either—at least not to me. But in Marion’s world of cold pragmatism and duty, fairness had no place.

She finished brushing and stepped back to examine her work. “There,” she said finally. “Much better.”

I nodded slightly, unsure what to say or do next.

“Remember,” she added as she turned to leave, “this is for the family.” And with that, she left the room as abruptly as she had entered.

I stared at my reflection for a moment longer before taking another deep breath and heading downstairs.

Her words lingered in my mind, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts like a relentless pest. She believed this was right—that I owed it to the family to marry William and fix my father’s mistakes. But I didn’t think it was fair. Marion's definition of fairness was twisted, bound up in duty and sacrifice that always seemed to fall on my shoulders.

I picked at the hem of the dress, feeling the unfamiliar fabric between my fingers. It had been ages since I’d worn anything like this, apart from last night’s masquerade. The dress felt strange, as if it belonged to someone else. It left me feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that made my skin prickle with discomfort.

For a fleeting moment, I let my mind wander to Keaton. His intense blue eyes, the way he crowded me in that conference room at The Ritz. There was something about him—something magnetic and dangerous all at once.

I could still hear his voice from last night, the words slipping through my thoughts like a whispered secret:Marry me.

A part of me had actually considered it. Standing there in that mask, under the dim lights and swirling music, it had felt almost possible. A reckless fantasy that had burned bright for a moment.

But now, in the harsh light of day, it seemed ridiculous. He hadn’t meant it; how could he? Keaton Douglas didn’t need someone like me complicating his life. And even if he did mean it—which I doubted—I couldn’t. I had too much at stake to indulge in such a dangerous daydream.

I heard the faint hum of an engine outside and glanced out the window. A sleek black car pulled up to the curb, and my heart sank further into my chest. William was here.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and headed downstairs. Each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of expectations that weren’t mine but had somehow become my burden to bear.

At the bottom of the stairs, Marion waited with an expectant look on her face. Annabelle and Stephanie were nowhere to be seen—probably off somewhere planning their next social conquest or gossip session.

“Remember,” she said again as I reached her side, her voice firm yet devoid of any real warmth. “This is for the family.”

I nodded silently and stepped out into the morning air, leaving behind the stifling confines of our home and stepping toward an uncertain future with William waiting just beyond the door.

He stepped out of the car, and my heart sank further. He was an older man, his hair graying at the temples and his face lined with years of stress or perhaps cruelty. He wasn’t handsome, not in the least. His eyes held a lecherous gleam that made my skin crawl.

---