Descent (Black Heart Romance)

I dreaded leaving the bathroom, afraid the bodyguard might still be out there. But when I scraped together enough courage to leave my safe haven, the man was gone.

My front door was locked, but not deadbolted. The lock on the doorknob has been busted since I moved in, so the place isn’t actually secure until the deadbolt is engaged. The man wouldn’t have been able to do that from outside without a key, so I walked over and locked it myself. I looked around the kitchen, but nothing appeared to be displaced. When I returned to my bedroom, I found a cup of steaming hot tea waiting on my bedside table.

He made me tea?

I didn’t drink it, of course. It could have been drugged. I took it to the kitchen and dumped it out, but it still seemed strange that the bodyguard provided post-assault aftercare.

That conjured memories of the moments immediately afterward when Calvin sat on the couch and played with my hair. The gentle way he touched me, the reassuring tone of his voice; it was almost like he was trying to…

I shake off the thought without finishing it.

Fuck Calvin Cutler.

At least it’s over now and I’ll never have to see him again.

___

“Have you seen my brooch?”

I look up at Charity, an absolute vision in her form-fitting wedding gown with her dark hair piled in an elegant mass on the right side of her head. She looks gorgeous, but also stressed out as she looks around for her misplaced item.

Charity is so not a brooch person, so I’m a little thrown. “Your brooch?”

She nods impatiently. “For my bouquet. Tyler’s grandma gave it to me so I’d have ‘something old’ for the wedding ceremony. Maybe I left it in the other room. Can you go grab it for me?”

“Of course.”

I gather up the bottom of my blush pink gown and head toward the suite where the bridesmaids are getting ready.

“If you wrinkle that dress, I’ll kill you,” Charity calls out.

Sighing, I let the bottom of the dress fall, kicking at the yards of fabric as I make my way into the next room. I love a pretty dress as much as the next person, but even after altering, mine hits the floor and I keep feeling like I’m going to step on it.

“Have you seen Charity’s brooch?” I ask the first bridesmaid that looks at me.

She shakes her head no as she fixes the pearl pin in her own elegant side bun.

I don’t even know what the brooch looks like, which makes it much harder to look for it. I search every bridesmaids dressing station with no luck and finally make it back to mine.

I know I didn’t have the thing, but I start to search my station, anyway. As soon as I do, I notice a little black gift box with a black ribbon sitting on my counter. There’s a high-quality tag attached with my name written in fancy calligraphy.

What’s this?

I pick up the box. Frowning slightly, I glance at the bridesmaids’ vanities, but I don’t see a box that looks like this on any of their workspaces.

“Hey,” I say, to get the attention of the bridesmaid nearest me.

Deirdre looks over, cocking an eyebrow in question.

“Do you have one of these?”

She glances at the box and shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a MOH gift.”

I wasn’t expecting a maid of honor present. The pearl hair clips we’re all wearing in our matching fancy chignons were supposed to be our bridal party gift from Charity.

Curious, I lift off the top of the box. Draped across a soft bed of black is a lovely diamond and morganite necklace on a rose gold chain. I gasp softly, carefully tugging the chain free and unclasping it. I drape it around my neck and secure it, then look in the mirror as I gently finger the pendant.

It’s absolutely beautiful, and just my taste. I don’t know how she could have gotten it here so quickly if she hadn’t already been planning to give it to me, but Charity was complaining a little bit ago because I had forgotten my necklace at home. She picked out a uniform look for me and all the bridesmaids—the same dresses, the same hairstyles, the same necklace. She even sent us direct links to make sure we ordered the right one. It was more than I would usually spend on a necklace and I doubted anyone would even look at my neck while I shared the stage with her, but I dug out my credit card anyway and bought it to make Charity happy. Unfortunately, when I was leaving my apartment today, I’d been so scatterbrained I left it behind.

This one is different, but a similar look. It looks more expensive, actually.

I know she wasn’t thrilled that my neck would be naked, but I can’t imagine she would be so hung up on it she would send someone to buy a more expensive necklace from a nearby store.