Gilded Vendettas • James M. Beaufort.

Chapter 14 • The sin

Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Oh, good God, let me give you my life
Take me to church
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife
Offer me that deathless death
Oh, good God, let me give you my life

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Violet's POV

I found myself again when my phone's alarm buzzed, and I realized it was no longer the same night as Cyril's party. I was in another day, lying in my penthouse bed.

My penthouse, the one Margot had secretly bought for me to escape the press and family scrutiny. My sister was clever.

That thought lingered as I remembered the dream I had just woken from—a vivid dream of making out,

with James Beaufort.

My heart pounded as I tried to convince myself it was only a silly dream.

Yet my mind buzzed with questions: How did James know about my penthouse? Why did I dream about him? And why was I wearing a lacrosse team's sweater?

A lacrosse team sweater?

Confused, I decided to call Margot immediately. If anyone knew what had happened, it would be her.

I grabbed my phone and dialed her number, my fingers trembling slightly as I waited for her to pick up.

"Hello?" Margot's voice came through, sounding bright and alert as always.

"Margot, it's Violet," I said, my voice shaky. "I woke up in my penthouse, and I'm wearing a lacrosse team sweater. Do you know what happened?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could almost hear her processing the information. "Violet, calm down. James brought you back to your penthouse after things got chaotic at Cyril's party. He called me to make sure you were okay."

James brought me back?

My mind raced as I tried to piece everything together.

"And the sweater?" I asked, still bewildered.

Margot chuckled softly. "I don't know? I think It was James'." I sat back, trying to absorb it all. So, at least I didn't make out with him. But, the events of the previous night were real, and James had been there for me.

"Thanks, Margot," I said, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. "I just... I don't know what to think right now."

"Take it easy," she replied gently. "You've been through a lot. Give yourself some time to process everything."

As I hung up, I found myself holding onto the sweater, its fabric soft and comforting. My thoughts were a whirlwind, but one thing was clear: James had been there for me when I needed someone the most. And that realization brought a sense of warmth I hadn't expected.

I hugged my knees on the down feathers of my bed, burying my face in the long sleeves of the sweater and inhaling the scent.

If that wasn't enough, I found myself smiling,

knowing this was James' sweater.

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