Elegant Sins (Dark Secret Society 1)

I’d just have to trust that Delilah could restrain herself. I smiled at her. “I put myself in your capable hands.”

Delilah nodded but was already pulling out all sorts of creams and eyeshadows out of her makeup caboodle. “Don’t you worry about nothing. I’ll make sure you’re the belle of the ball.”

6

Grace

I looked like the bride of Frankenstein.

Sad but true.

I didn’t have the heart to tell Delilah she’d gone overboard on the eye makeup, especially when she was so extremely proud of herself when she’d stepped back earlier and said, “Ta da!” urging me to go check myself out in the bathroom mirror.

I didn’t look anything like myself, it was true.

And if tonight went as disastrously as I thought it might, maybe that was a good thing. Nobody would know who I was, and I could just sneak away with my tail between my legs.

It really was a shame about the dress, though. Because the dress was a true work of art. And the way it fit my body…

Delilah had made me put on the dress before I looked at myself in the mirror so I could get the full impression. Thank God for that, because I’d been about to cry once I saw the clown-like makeup.

Then there was the dress. It hugged the curves at the top of my body before billowing out in a cloud of organza. It looked like I was dancing even though I was standing still. The slightest movement made the gown shimmer.

Then there was a knock on the door and Delilah was squealing about a limo outside.

I’d never seen a limo in real life, much less ridden in one.

But here I was, two hours later, trying not to gawk but finding it impossible. My hand lifted to the glass of the backseat window almost without my volition.

The drive up had been impressive enough. At first the landscape had been familiar, normal. Other than the fact that I was in a limousine. Who on earth had a limousine in Barnwell, Georgia?

But soon enough we weren’t in Barnwell anymore, were we? No sir, we were in Darlington now.

Everyone in Georgia knew at least a little about Darlington. It was part of the slim strip down the middle of Georgia that hadn’t been burned in the Civil War.

Rich people from Atlanta had their second homes here, massive estates that belied so much of the poverty of the rest of the South. It was Georgia’s secret little Mara Lago, nestled right in the center of the state. No beaches but plenty of golfing and sweet tea as far as the eye could see.

I should have guessed this was where I’d be coming.

I shifted uncomfortably in my poofy dress, anxiously trying to smooth out any wrinkles. The invitation said to wear it, but maybe I should have just worn normal clothes and brought it in the box it came in?

Because as I passed through the wrought iron gates, opened by two footmen in full livery like something out of Downton Abbey, it hit me full force.

This was real.

It was all very, very real.

Rich men wanted to buy me—ostensibly had already bought me—and would do whatever they wanted to me behind these gates.

I was a nobody with no voice and they could just—

Make your dreams come true. Any dream. Delilah’s words ricocheted through my brain.

“Fuck,” I whispered under my breath as the limousine continued forward down a smooth, freshly-paved road that was lined on either side by ancient oak trees, planted at regular intervals every twenty feet. Their branches stretched like arms embracing in a canopy over the road, blocking out the bright sunlight.

It was an impressive and forbidding sight. Those trees had been planted purposefully, hundreds of years ago. On and on they went, the Avenue of Oaks, calling me closer to my destination. My heartbeat sped up as we turned a final corner and the house—no, the mansion—came into view.

I don’t think I breathed for several seconds.

I’d never seen anything like it. Even in movies. Even in fairytales.

Even in my dreams.

I didn’t know to dream that big.

I looked up. And up. And up.

Huge, stately square white columns lifted up into the sky like a modern day Coliseum. Except everything was perfectly intact. It was like stepping into history. It was only two stories tall, but each floor was massive, with a huge wraparound deck. Everything was done in elegant whites and grays, with black wrought iron railings on the balconies and patios. Black shutters completed the dramatic look.

And did I mention massive? Because holy shit, as we drove closer, I just kept seeing more and more to the building. Or maybe there were multiple buildings? I couldn’t tell if it was just one giant structure that wrapped around or if it was a network of interconnected buildings. Either way, it had to be tens of thousands of square feet large.