08|| Old Enough

1.4K 41 44
                                    

|Elena Beaumont|

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

|Elena Beaumont|

"I take it your intention is to sway every man in attendance with that over-the-top confidence you have in that dress," Ms. Dupont frowned, eyeing me from head to toe for the hundredth time tonight.

A victorious smile touched my lips, the thrill of winning an argument against Ms. Dupont regarding my outfit overshadowing the unsettling feeling I felt in my stomach.

I felt fully confident and sexy as fuck in the dress of my choice, an armless gold embellished dress with a flattering hip gather and an equally eye-catching thigh-high slit.


With my hair pulled into a low bun and held in place by a butterfly hairpin, my shoulders were exposed, complementing the sweetheart neckline and decent cleavage my dress boasted.

My jewellery and makeup didn't miss the mark either, boosting my confidence to brace myself for whatever tonight had fated for me.

"Just admit it, Ms Dupont," I chuckled with a soft sigh, "it irks you knowing I have a fair chance at turning heads tonight."

"That's if your husband shows up and you enter the ball, Elena," she retorted sternly.

"Oh, he will," I replied confidently despite the nagging feeling screaming at me I'd be forced to eat my words soon.

Ms. Dupont cocked her arched eyebrow. "Need I remind you we've been waiting for two hours and it's just a matter of another hour before we leave for home?"

Pondering on her statement distracted me from continuing this snarky exchange which felt more like a stance to kill time.

At this point, losing hope was inevitable. Not that I had high hopes of Sebastian showing up or anything, but I just thought he had a better sense of this duty towards this family charade than I did. Guess I was wrong.

I was snapped from my thoughts by the sudden opening of the door of the white limousine Ms. Dupont and I had been sitting in for the past two hours, a small smile touching my lips when I realised who stood there.

"Sebastian," I acknowledged, a big wave of relief washing over me.

Sebastian wore a black tuxedo and white shirt like the dress code stipulated with a black grifone mask on.

He was still the man I'd married three weeks ago just with a bit of emotion in his steely blue eyes, a new and shorter haircut than I remembered and he appeared to be growing his beard which was well trimmed.

Sebastian extended his hand towards me in a gentlemanly manner. "Shall we?"

I couldn't help but smile at his manners, a pang of hope striking across my chest. Was he over his emo phase and ready to approach this fateful mess maturely? Only time would tell, but so far, I was highly impressed and hopeful.

Forbidden PassionsWhere stories live. Discover now