Ivy’s pov
The weight of their stares was like someone or something was pushing the air from my lungs.
Then, in a flash of gold. Roman raced across the room in three strides, his hand closing around mine. His touch was so warm, but it did nothing to ease the cold dread coiling in my stomach.
"Vivi, you’ll be my date!" His hazel eyes were shining. "Please say yes."
HELL NO, my mind screamed. Every instinct, every fiber of my being rejected the idea. I was here on a mission. Getting closer, playing date, was a complication I didn’t need.
But wasn’t this perfect? This was how I would earn their trust. This was how I would get them to let their guard down. This was one way to get closer to the information I needed to save Kingsley and co.
But I couldn’t seem too eager. I had to play this right.
"I... I don’t think that’s a good idea," I stammered, trying to pull my hand away gently. "I’m just the housekeeper."
Roman’s face fell. "But... why not? It would be so much fun. Please, Vivi? I’ll be a perfect gentleman. What better way to spend the night than with a beautiful woman on my arm?"
He was practically vibrating with so much adorable energy that it was so disarming it almost made me forget who he was.
"You know what? I change my mind. I want to go," Malachi’s voice cut through the air; his hazel eyes were on me, a predatory glint in them.
Roman’s head snapped toward his brother. "You only want to go because Vivi is going."
"I never said that I was going," I protested.
"Oh, you will," Roman beamed at me, taking a few strands of my hair and turning them over his fingers before bringing them close to his lips. "I’ll have to find a way to convince you, shall I?"
Malachi guffawed, and that sound irked the hell out of me. Just like that, my decision was made. To wipe that smug, knowing look off Malachi’s face.
It was reckless and emotional, everything against what Father had sent me here for, but it felt too good to resist especially with Malachi’s burning gaze. I turned back to Roman, a bright smile plastered on my face.
"You know what? I would love to be your date, Roman."
"That’s foul play, little Ivy."
"Good," Gideon’s voice boomed from his armchair, silencing us all. "It’s settled." He rose to his feet, his massive frame seeming to suck all the air out of the room.
"Milo. Follow me to the study." He didn’t wait for a reply and just strode towards the door.
Milo trailed behind him, stopping by the door to give me a little wave and a grin. "See you around, Ivy."
As they turned towards the study, my eyes met Gideon’s cold sapphire blue eyes that flickered with irritation before Gideon disappeared out the door.
The mission. I had to focus on the mission.
***
The day of the gala was January 31st.
By January 30th, I was kneeling in the long hallway, jamming my bobby pin into the door lock of Gideon’s study, trying to unlock it.
He and Malachi weren’t home, and I had made sure to finish all my chores for the day before four pm, leaving just two hours before my closing time to get that goddamned ledger. I pressed my ear against the door, trying to listen to the clicks when a bell rang through the mansion.
"Oh come on," I swore under my breath, jamming the pin back into my tiny hair bun.
That would be Roman. He was the only brother at home anyway. Running my fingers down my uniform, smoothing it now. I matched to his quarters in the east wing, my mind racing. What could he possibly need right now?
I knocked on the door to his suite. "Roman? You rang?"
The door swung open, but it wasn’t Roman who greeted me.
His entire room had been transformed, looking like something out of the Bridgerton set. There were clothes racks filled with shimmering ball gowns while a team of immaculately dressed attendants bustled about the room, steaming fabrics and organizing shoe boxes.
In the center of it all, looking like a kid in a candy store, was Roman.
"Well hello, Vivi!" he beamed, grabbing my hand and pulling me inside.
"Uh...how... what is this?"
"I know how busy you are, so instead of going out shopping, I had them bring the shop to you. It’s very convenient, isn’t it?"
My jaw was on the floor. This was... insane. This was a level of extravagance I couldn’t even fathom. My father would have a field day with this.
’Look at them, flaunting their blood money’.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Roman, this is... too much."
He tugged me towards a rack, pulling a silver dress out. "Try this one on."
"I don’t think-"
His arm wrapped around my waist while he skimmed his nose over the side of my face, sending every single coherent thought flying out of my head.
I shuddered when the bridge of his nose ran down to my neck, his hot breath leaving hot trails of pleasure on my skin.
"Let me, Vivi."
My spine turned all soft like butter. I found myself nodding meekly while I tried reminding myself.
This is for the mission. They are the enemy. I am using them.
And so it began. I would change in his massive closet with the help of the six attendants he hired and strut around showing off each dress. From the blue Cinderella ball gowns to a red sequin-beaded dress that framed my every curve.
But the one I had fallen in love with was a midnight-blue silk that was so dark it was almost black. When I slipped it on, the fabric was so cool and fluid against my skin, clinging to every of my curve before pooling at my feet.
It was backless, completely open, the silk dipping all the way to just above my ass. It was the most dangerous yet beautiful thing I had ever worn.
I stepped out of the closet. Roman, who had been chattering animatedly with an attendant, went silent. His jaw went slack. He was sitting in a velvet armchair, and he just stared; his hazel eyes glowed amber, tracing every line, every curve of my body.
"Oh," he breathed, the sound barely audible. Then, a low groan rumbled in his chest. "Vivi... you’re so fucking gorgeous."
He rose from the chair, taking one step after the other, slowly. I turned to face the full-length mirror in the room, admiring the dress while he came up behind me, his tall frame behind my smaller one, his hazel eyes dark and intense in the mirror.
His fingers, gently, traced the line of my spine. His knuckles dragged a slow, maddening path down my naked back. I shivered, a full-body tremor, and my eyes fluttered shut.
"Look at me," he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear.