Page 217 of Sinful Desires
She stood from the makeup chair and walked to the mirror, where Victoria crouched to help with her heels.
“The emerald one was the perfect choice,” Nicholas added.
Her red hair fell in soft waves. The mermaid gown hugged her like it had been sewn directly onto her skin. Diamonds stitched into the fabric flared under the lights.
Her shoulders were bare, her arms exposed, the tiny tattoos on her skin quietly visible.
A massive emerald necklace rested against her collarbone. It gleamed like a crown welded to her collarbone, royal and cursed.
She looked like a goddess, and I almost wanted to kneel.
But it was her eyes that got to me.
They didn’t shine. They didn’t hold their usual excitement or pride.
They were flicking around the room, as if searching for something she couldn’t name.
She was nervous.
I could see it in the way her fingers twisted the fabric of her dress, the way she barely blinked as the limo rolled to a stop in the private lot behind the venue.
Nicholas sat beside her.
“Yes, I’m sure, Nic.”
He took her hands, squeezing them.
“I’msoproud of you, sunshine. Really proud. You’re choosing yourself for the first time in your life, and you’re doing it in six-inch heels and diamonds. Icon behavior.”
She smiled and leaned in, hugging him.
“I’m sorry for the PR mess this is going to cause,” she said quietly. “But don’t worry. I’ll tell the press it was all my fault. That way your private life can stay exactly that.Private.”
He nodded, then kissed her cheek.
Putain de merde.
His lips touched her skin, and something ugly moved in my chest.
My fists clenched before I could stop them. I felt stupid afterward, but the image of his lips against her skin stayed burning behind my eyes.
I had to force myself to stay still and not drag him out of the car and break his fingers for touching her.
“Thank you, Scar,” he said. “I’ll see you after the show. I promised Victoria I’d do the red carpet for both of us so she could finally justify asking for a raise.”
She giggled, her hand on his arm. “Nic, you got this. I have a feeling in my gut, you’re going to win that Oscar tonight.”
He gave her a theatrical wink. “If I don’t, I’m storming out mid-ceremony, throwing myself into the nearest fountain, and blaming thedeeplycorrupt power structure of Hollywood.”
Her laughter filled the car.
It made my jaw tighten.
Not because I wasn’t glad she was smiling. But because it wasn’t me who had put it there.
He left. I helped her out of the car, guiding her past the back entrance while some rookie handed me my earpiece. I clicked it on without looking at him. The line buzzed with noise, calls from every corner of the venue.
Five minutes to showtime.
