Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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ESMERALDA'S POV
I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection. The soft blue dress clung to my figure in a way that made me feel seen. Feminine. Elegant. But also... exposed. Vulnerable. It was a strange thing—to look at myself and feel like I was stepping into a different version of me. A version my mother would approve of.
The fabric shimmered under the vanity lights, the delicate material flowing down my frame like water. It was the kind of dress that whispered of grace and poise, of debutante perfection—everything my mother wanted me to embody.
And tonight, I had to be just that.
The party downstairs wasn't just about mingling—it was about appearances. About solidifying my place in a world I wasn't sure I belonged to.
I adjusted the neckline, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles, when the door swung open without warning.
"Esmeralda, sweetheart!"
My mother's voice rang through the room, all warmth and command. She moved with purpose, the sheer presence of her filling the space before I could even register what she was holding.
A necklace.
It glittered under the golden light—a delicate gold chain with a single sapphire pendant. A Kensington heirloom.
"I want you to wear this tonight," she said, stepping behind me, her fingers deftly fastening the clasp around my neck.
I swallowed hard, staring at my reflection as the cool metal settled against my skin.
"Mom, it's beautiful," I breathed, tracing my fingers over the pendant.
It felt heavy in a way that had nothing to do with weight.
The legacy. The expectations. The reminder that I was a Kensington, through and through.
"It suits you," Mom murmured, her voice softer now, like she was seeing me in a new light. "This is who you are, Esme. A Kensington woman. Poised. Refined. Untouchable."
I didn't know how to respond.
Because the way Caleb had looked at me that night, the way his voice had curled around my name like a promise—I didn't feel untouchable at all.
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