Page 11 of Ensnared
I strolled into the gardens with purpose, the scent of jasmine enveloping me like a heady perfume. Through the ornate French doors, I could see the warm glow of the ballroom lights, hear the soft strains of music drifting on the evening air. I sank onto a nearby bench, trying to compose myself for what lay ahead.
"Joey."
The voice startled me, and I looked up to find Vaughn standing a few feet away. He was dressed casually in jeans and an untucked white shirt, open at the neck. The informality of his attire stood in stark contrast to my own carefully crafted appearance.
I stood abruptly, irritation flaring. "I asked you not to call me that," I snapped. But the sudden movement threw me off balance, and I pitched forward. Vaughn's arms were around me in an instant, strong and steady.
"Don't do it," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
I pushed out of his embrace, forcing out a sarcastic laugh to mask my confusion. "Why? Why is it such a big deal to you?"
Vaughn's eyes, usually so guarded, were intense as they bore into mine. "He's going to pick you, Joey."
I clenched my teeth at the use of my nickname again. "And why do you care so much?"
He reached for my hand, but I backed away, crossing my arms defensively. His next words hit me like a physical blow.
"Because it will shred my heart."
My mouth dropped open, disbelief warring with a surge of unexpected emotion. "You're lying," I managed to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper.
Before Vaughn could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention. Orville appeared, his white-gloved hand extended towards me.
"Miss Shaw, Mr. Ashworth is waiting, and you don't want to keep him waiting," he intoned, his voice devoid of any emotion.
I hesitated for a fraction of a second, my eyes darting back to Vaughn. His face was a mask of anguish, and for a moment, I felt the ground shift beneath my feet.
"Joey," Vaughn called out, a note of desperation in his voice as I slipped my arm around Orville's.
As Orville led me away, my mind was reeling. Vaughn's words echoed in my head, threatening to unravel the composure I'd so carefully constructed. But I couldn't afford to dwell on them now. Colson was waiting, and with him, the future I'd committed myself to pursuing.
I took a deep breath, forcing my features into a serene mask. Whatever game Vaughn was playing, whatever his true motives were, I couldn't let it distract me. Not now. Not when I was so close to securing my family's future.
As we approached the ballroom, the music grew louder, the chatter of voices more distinct. I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin. It was time to step into the spotlight and face whatever Colson had in store for me.
But even as I prepared to play my part, a small voice in the back of my mind whispered a dangerous question: What if Vaughn had been telling the truth? What if this was just a big production and choosing me had been Colson’s plan all along?
As I stepped into the ballroom, I was momentarily overwhelmed by the opulence surrounding me. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the room, their light reflecting off the polished marble floors. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and the soft murmur of refined conversation.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I surveyed the scene before me. About twenty women were scattered throughout the room, each one a vision of elegance in designer gowns that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. Their jewelry glittered under the chandeliers, a not-so-subtle display of wealth and status.
Servers in crisp white uniforms weaved through the crowd, offering delicate appetizers on silver trays and flutes of golden champagne. I plucked a glass from a passing tray, grateful for something to occupy my hands.
As I sipped the bubbly liquid, I couldn't help but notice the stark difference between myself and the other women. They were allolder, most likely in their late twenties or early thirties, their confidence born of years navigating this world of privilege. I, on the other hand, felt every bit the newcomer I was.
A group of women near me turned, their eyes scanning me from head to toe. I recognized one of them as Melissa Hartley, daughter of a prominent banker in Windmere Haven. Her lips curved into a sneer as she leaned towards her companions.
"Well, well," she said, her voice carrying just far enough for me to hear. "If it isn't little Joey Shaw. I didn't realize Colson was robbing the cradle these days."
Her friends tittered, their laughter like shards of glass. I felt heat rise to my cheeks but forced myself to stand tall, meeting Melissa's gaze coolly. She’d been a senior when I was just a lowly freshman and never let me forget my place.
"It's Josephine," I corrected, my voice steady despite the churning in my stomach. "And I believe Mr. Ashworth invited me here himself. I'm sure he had his reasons."
Melissa's eyes narrowed, but before she could retort, a hush fell over the room. I turned to see Colson himself entering, his presence commanding immediate attention.
He scanned the room, his eyes landing on me. A slow smile spread across his face as he began to make his way towards me. I could feel the stares of the other women burning into my back, a mix of curiosity and resentment.
"Josephine," Colson said as he reached me, taking my hand and brushing his lips against my knuckles. "You look absolutely stunning tonight."
