Chapter 11

Just then, the guy in the driver's seat fumbled for his phone, attempting a sneaky picture. But in a flash, Damien Taylor plucked the device right from Liam's grasp. "Trying to get a new phone the hard way?" "Hey! The, uh, the city lights looked cool from here," Liam stammered with an awkward laugh. "Thought I'd grab a shot." Damien fixed him with a silencing glare before tossing the phone back. Liam quickly opened a group chat named "The Investigation Committee." Dorothy Taylor: Well? Any intel? Where's the photo proof? Liam: Busted by Damien. But seriously, she's a stunner. Way out of our bro's league, if you ask me. No need to panic. Dorothy: So... no photo? You're useless! Mr. Taylor: Everyone, be patient. We'll meet her soon enough. Dorothy: Oh, I'm the impatient one? Remind me, whose idea was this chat? Mr. Taylor: ...Not now. I'm on the green. The venue was a glitzy five-star hotel. As Amelia Johnson stepped out of the car, Liam sidled up to Damien, his face alight with gossip. "Seriously, man, where'd you find her? She's drop-dead gorgeous." "Don't be crass," Damien replied coolly, Amelia's coat draped over his arm, still holding her residual warmth. Liam shot him a knowing grin. "Big night tonight, huh? You know... perfect opportunity to—" "A gentleman doesn't elaborate on such thoughts," Damien cut him off, his voice icy. "I wasn't finished!" Liam protested. Damien gave him a sidelong glance. "You didn't need to be. I know exactly what you were implying." "Just trying to help! She seems a bit... indifferent toward you, that's all," Liam said with a sheepish chuckle. "Indifferent?" Damien's eyebrow arched sharply. Liam immediately backtracked. "Slip of the tongue! She's totally playing hard to get. Classic move. I've seen it a million times." Damien's eyes frosted over. "Seen it with whom, exactly?" "No one! I'm a ghost! I've seen nothing!" Liam clapped a hand over his mouth, his survival instincts kicking into high gear. Just outside the banquet hall doors, Amelia realized her invitation wasn't in her clutch—she'd left it in her coat pocket. "Amelia Johnson?" a voice laced with disbelief called out. It was Chloe Hughes. "Can I help you, Miss Hughes?" Amelia responded, her expression neutral. Chloe, who had never made an effort to be pleasant, crossed her arms and smirked. "It is you. I hope you know you can't just waltz in without an invitation." What is this country bumpkin doing here? Chloe thought. Trying to crash a high-society event? Not on my watch. Amelia didn't bother arguing and turned to go retrieve her invite. "What's wrong? Got caught and now you're running away?" Chloe grabbed her arm and hissed at a nearby staff member, "Watch this one. Don't let her slip in later." Amelia wrenched her arm free, fixing Chloe with an icy stare. "I have an invitation. I left it downstairs." "Sure you did. Stop lying," Chloe snapped dismissively. Just then, Sabrina Johnson arrived on Ethan Collins's arm. "Chloe? What's keeping you out here?" Sabrina asked, feigning confusion. "Perfect timing," Chloe said, gesturing at Amelia with contempt. "Look who's trying to sneak in without an invite. How embarrassing." It took Sabrina a moment to place the elegantly dressed woman. "Amelia? You're here?" Even though she knew Amelia was invited, the transformation was startling. Sabrina hated to admit it, but her sister looked breathtaking. Ethan's breath hitched for a second at the sight of Amelia, but he quickly masked it with a familiar scowl. Sure, she'd cleaned up well on the outside, but underneath, she was still the same unsophisticated girl. "Amelia," Ethan said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Remember what your father said. Don't cause a scene. You should leave." After all, she was still technically his fiancée, an embarrassment he had to manage. As Amelia opened her mouth to retort, a tall, imposing figure stepped into view, instantly shifting the dynamic of the entire corridor.