by James, Lylah
Killian was so thoughtful.
And my deception was poison.
Killian,
Your gift is very thoughtful.
I can’t believe you remember my favorite quote from Wuthering Heights. In fact, I can’t believe you were actually listening to everything I said. I had believed that I bored you with my endless talking about classic poetry and novels.
I miss you, but I know that you’re busy. And now that Coal is well-trained, there’s no reason for you to come to the Romano’s Estate every day. When will we see each other again?
At least once before the party my father is throwing this weekend?
Yours truly,
Your wife-to-be.
A second letter came the next day, bearing another gift.
Five hundred pink ranunculus. Enough to cover every surface of Gracelynn’s room – which should have been my room. But a secret was a secret. To my father, Killian’s fiancée was Gracelynn.
My Gracelynn,
It appears that we won’t see each other until this weekend. My father and I are flying to Chicago tomorrow morning – duty calls, Princess.
Today’s courting gift is ranunculus.
I hope you like this shade of pink. I was able to find a farm where they planted unique flowers. So, I handpicked all five hundred of these ranunculi myself.
The mad things we do when we’re in love…
You’ve enchanted me, Princess.
Your fiancé,
Killian Spencer
The day after that, Killian gifted me a ruby jewelry set – necklace, earrings and bracelet. He said it had been passed down in his family for over a century.
On the fourth day, the present came in a small box, tiny enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Curious, I opened the gift to find a single red hair ribbon. Silky and simple.
With KS stitched in gold, at the end of the ribbon – tiny and almost unnoticeable.
You always wear hair ribbons instead of hair-ties, so I guess you’re fond of them.
Red is for my favorite color.
And KS is because you’re mine.
Your fiancé,
Killian Spencer.
The last day – the day before the party – I got another well-wrapped package. Similar to my first courting gift. I ripped through the wrappings to find another antique hardcover. My legs weakened and I slumped on my bed, too shocked to continue standing.
Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, a collection of poems by the three Brontë sisters using their pseudonym. The collection was published in 1846.
No way. How did Killian even get a hold of the first edition of this collection?
Out of one hundred original copies, only thirty-nine were sold. While the unsold stock was discarded and later acquired by a publisher who re-issued the collection but with a different title page.
But the one I was holding was the first edition, the original copy… with the original title page. One of the thirty-nine that were sold in 1846. This should have been impossible to acquire.
Killian,
You really shouldn’t have. After doing a quick google search, I found out that you bought this from an auction in London for 95,000 dollars! Are you absolutely insane?
I mean I love it and that was very thoughtful of you. I will treasure this courting gift for the rest of my life, but…
I feel unworthy of such a grand gift. And I haven’t even given you something in return.
Yours truly,
Your wife-to-be.
I didn’t get a reply this time, but it didn’t matter.
I saw Killian the next day.
At our engagement party.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE PAST
Julianna
“What if tonight flops? What if my truth comes out?” I whispered, squeezing my sister’s hand in a death grip.
“Dear Lord, calm down.” Gracelynn placed a hand on my knee, forcing me to stop bouncing my legs. “You’re so jittery, it’s making me nervous.”
I burrowed my other hand into my black satin gown, trying to hide my shaking from her. The bodice was too tight, or it felt like it. When I left home, the sapphire and diamond necklace was light as a feather, but now it felt heavy. Almost like a weight around my neck.
Maybe it wasn’t the necklace.
Maybe it was the ball of emotions and anxiety stuck in my throat.
The engagement party was tonight. And this was the first time both my sister and I were making an appearance in public, at such a grand event. Our father had kept us living quite a private life. I had never been photographed and my sister only had one of her photos swimming around on the internet, but that was almost eight years ago and she was barely thirteen.
Gracelynn and I had social media, but our accounts were on private and we never posted any of our photos online either. While our father attended many parties and events amongst the high society, we never accompanied him.
In fact, this would be our debut as Bishop Romano’s daughters.
All eyes would be on us, full of judgment and gossip.
And not to forget… my secret would possibly not be a secret anymore by the end of tonight, if my sister and I were not careful enough.
“How are you not nervous?” I hissed under my breath.
She brushed a hand down her emerald gown, smoothing out the wrinkles. My sister and I wore a similar gown. Mine was black and strapless, with a long slit along my right leg. Gracelynn wore the same gown, but in an emerald shade and hers was a sweetheart neckline with long sleeves. “Because I have faith it’ll all work out.”
I shoved my hand into the pocket of my gown, curling my fingers into a fist. I just couldn’t stop the tremors. “You’re way too optimistic.”
Gracelynn rolled her eyes. “And you’re way too cynical. Always have been.”
“No, I’m not,” I shot back, defensively.
“Are to.”
“I’m not.”
“Will you two stop the jabbering?” Simon’s deep voice broke in. He was sitting in the passenger’s seat at the front. He shook his head. “You act like kids sometimes.”
“We don’t,” Gracelynn and I growled together.
“Sisters,” he muttered. “For fuck’s sake.”
“Was that meant to be an insult?” my sister said through clenched teeth.
Simon brought his hands up in mock defense. “No, milady. I wouldn’t dare.”
He caught Gracelynn’s gaze through the rear-view mirror. He grinned a secret smile before winking, once.
My sister blushed and she stuck her tongue out, before slumping back against the backseat.
Ten minutes later, the car came to a slow stop. The driver cleared his throat. “We’re here.”
“I think I prefer to stay in the car,” I mumbled.
Gracelynn punched me in the arm and she leveled me with a glare. “Get yourself together.” She leaned in closer, to whisper in a low voice so that the driver wouldn’t hear. “You’re about to be married to Killian Spencer. You can’t hide anymore, Sister. You need to be the woman he needs you to be. His equal. He needs you strong and fierce. A lioness. He protects you. You protect him.”
“I don’t know how to be…”
“You do,” my sister cut in. “And you are. A strong woman. Believe that.”
A resigned sigh left my chest and I nodded. “Let’s do this.”
Simon opened the door for us and we climbed out of the car. The engagement party was held in one of my father’s five-star hotels and the entrance itself was grand.
The moment we stepped out of the car, there were multiple flashes and several fast clicks. “Shit,” I cursed under my breath, before plastering a smile on my face.
Gracelynn did the same. We allowed the photographers to take a few photos of us before Simon quickly escorted us inside.
“I didn’t expect them to jump on us like that.”
“What did you expect?” I said, my voice shaking. “This is
our first public appearance. And I’m – well, you are engaged to Killian Spencer.”
It was in this very moment that I realized why Killian hated the paparazzi and tabloids so much.
His mother was an A-list actress, so he had been photographed since he was a child. And then his father ran for President for two consecutive terms, which brought Killian more into the limelight. It must have been exhausting, to grow up and mature in such an environment.
We walked past the double door, leading into the banquet hall of the hotel. Gracelynn and I both came to a halt at the entrance, as everyone slowly turned around, their eyes landing on us.
My sister was more comfortable around people and having attention on her. But me? Not so much. How do I stand? Where do I put my hands?
God, I was hyperventilating.
My gaze darted around the banquet hall and when I met familiar dark eyes, I stilled. Killian stood tall and proud, amongst a sea of people, in a black tuxedo. He always looked so graceful and contained. And this self-assured man… belonged to me.
His gaze was riveted on mine, his lips twitching in a half-smile.
My father came to my sister and I. “You two are late,” he whispered, a tight smile plastered on his face.
“Sorry,” Gracelynn apologized. “I had an issue with my outfit.”
What our father didn’t know was that we were purposely late. Our plan was to walk in and out quickly. The less time we spent at this engagement party, the easier it would be for us to keep up our ruse.
Father guided us toward the middle of the room. Killian stood on his right and Father clasped him by the shoulder. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you’re aware already of why we are here tonight. But I still want to make this announcement public. It’s with utmost pride to welcome Killian into the Romano family as my son-in-law. My eldest daughter Gracelynn and Killian are to be married in four months.”
Father gestured toward Gracelynn and I with one hand. We were practically stuck to the hip and we both smiled. To the guests, Gracelynn was my sister.
To Killian, I was Grace.
My heart withered when Killian gave me his signature smirk, looking decadently sinful. I hated how innocently he loved me…while I had been deceiving him from the start.
My secrets had turned our love story into something ugly.
It was unfair and cruel to the man I loved. The guilt of it was too heavy to bear anymore. The longer I dragged these lies, the harder it became for me to look into Killian’s eyes and act like everything was fine and perfect.
I had to tell him the truth.
I have to.
The next thirty minutes passed in a blur. Gracelynn and I stayed together, smiling at the guests, speaking when we were expected to. There were more than a hundred congratulations and my cheeks had started to ache from the stiff smile glued on my face.
Every now and then, I sneaked a glance at my fiancé. Killian was on the other side of the room, talking with a group of gentlemen. Once, our gaze met, and there was something in his dark eyes. Something akin to mischief and need.
Without him even saying a word to me thus far tonight, I knew what he wanted. What he was waiting for.
We both craved to be alone together, in each other’s presence. Away from the crowd. Away from all the judgmental eyes of these people.
When the orchestra started playing something different, a waltz tune, my eyes widened and I grasped for Gracelynn’s elbow. She went rigid too as we watched a few people move toward the center of the room, for a couple dance.
From my peripheral vision, I watched Killian stride toward Gracelynn and I.
“He’s coming,” I hissed to my sister. “I think he’s going to ask me for a dance. Do something!”
William Spencer and my father were watching us carefully, pride shining in their eyes. There was more attention on us now when the guests noticed Killian coming toward the Romano sisters.
As Killian approached us, coming toward me – Gracelynn quickly sidestepped into his path, halting him. She smiled, her hand fluttering to his chest. “I think you owe me a dance, Killian.”
“I do?” Killian muttered in a tight voice.
Her eyes widened with feigned innocence and even I was fooled to almost believe that her smile was real. “Of course, you do.” Her voice softened to a low whisper, only loud enough for me and Killian to hear. “If you think you can waltz my sister away so easily, think again. You have to work for it.”
Killian made an impatient sound in the back of his throat but nodded nonetheless. Gracelynn wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow. My fiancé gave me a look filled with longing, before guiding my sister toward the rest of the waltzing couples.
I grabbed a glass of fruit punch off a server’s tray and watched Killian and my sister dance. To an outsider, they looked like a normal couple. Gracelynn fluttered her lashes up at Killian and her pretty smile never wavered. She was a good actress; I had to give it to her.
I peeked at my father and saw him nodding approvingly, looking quite pleased at the sight of Gracelynn and Killian dancing.
She successfully convinced Killian to dance two songs. Afterward, he guided Gracelynn back to where I was standing.
My sister appeared flustered, showing the guests just how amorous and captivated she was by her fiancé, while Killian’s attention was solely on me.
“Dance with me,” he said in a low voice, loud enough for my ears only. I swallowed, my eyes darting to his outstretched hand and back to his handsome, sculptured face.
“Are you asking or telling me?” I whispered.
His dark eyes flared. “May I have this dance, Princess?”
I nodded, while handing my glass to my sister, and Killian grasped my hand in his.
Once we were in the middle of the dance floor, his hand curled around my waist. Since my gown was backless, it was skin to skin. His callous fingers brushed along the curve of my back, my bare skin erupting with goosebumps at his teasing touch. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
My left hand went to his shoulder and he grasped my right one in his. The orchestra began a new song, and Killian guided me through the rhythm. It wasn’t a waltz, but it was a slow dance.
“You look enticing tonight,” he said, the rough timbre of his voice caressing my skin. “I’m more than pleased that you didn’t braid or put your hair up in a bun.”
I had kept my hair down, in soft waves, the way Killian liked it. The only thing fancy I did with it, was my hair being pearl-speckled – the tiny pearls woven and scattered into the platinum strands of my hair.
I matched Killian’s pace, making sure I didn’t step on his foot. “I wanted to wear a red dress, but then I thought it would be too bold.”
“You made the right choice, because if you had worn a red dress – I would have defiled you right there behind a pillar.”
“Maybe another time,” I breathed.
“Indeed,” Killian rasped. “Patience is a virtue, but mine has been stretched thin. I throb for you, Princess.”
He pulled me closer, so that our bodies were touching – so close, I could feel his breath fanning against my cheeks and his…
Oh.
Is that –
His erection pressed into my stomach and I stumbled, my heels catching the back of my dress. That was what Killian meant when he said he throbbed for me.
His arm tightened around my waist as he helped me regain my footing before I could further embarrass myself.
“You – I mean,” I stuttered before clearing my throat. “Your courting gifts were very thoughtful, Killian. But I truly feel like you shouldn’t have–”
“You’re worth it,” Killian said, cutting through my useless rant. “And as for my gift… well, you’ll be giving me something on our wedding night, alright. I can be… patient until then.”
It was then I realized that he was responding to my last letter.
“That’s very gentlemanly of you, Mr. Spencer.”
“You won’t be calling me a gentleman when I’m between your thighs and taking what belongs to me, Miss Romano,” he said, in a gravelly calm tone.
“Killian,” I hissed.
“What?” he said, feigning innocence.
“Not here,” I stuttered.
He brushed his fingers over my back, caressing my bare skin with such tenderness, it made me ache. “Shall we go somewhere else then? Somewhere more private.”
I dug my nails into his shoulders, but he didn’t even flinch. In fact, he just gave me a lazy half-smile, his dark eyes hooded with unmasked lust. “I thought you were supposed to protect my virtue, Killian Spencer.”
“Your virtue will stay very much intact till our wedding night, but there’s a lot of things I can still do to you, Princess.”
“Killian–”
“I can make you feel good,” he rasped in my ear.
“You’re being inappropriate,” I gasped. “My father is right there.”
“If I slide my hand under your dress right now, will I find you wet, Miss Romano?”
Sweet hell.
Killian was tormenting me and he was enjoying it – if I were to say so by that smirk on his face.
He spun me around once, before dragging me back into him, our bodies colliding together. “Do you touch yourself at night?”
My eyes widened and I gaped. “What?” I sputtered.
“Answer the question, Princess.”
My thighs clenched, involuntarily. The ache between them grew more intense and I felt strangely so… empty. “Yes. S-sometimes.”
“Hmm. How do you think it’ll feel if instead of your fingers, I touch you there?”
Holy shit. Flustered, I stumbled and stepped on his foot. An apology spilled past my lips and I prayed that no one had noticed my mishap. “Uh, now?” I croaked.
My body burned at the vivid image he had painted for me.
