I could tell she was hurting, but I couldn’t tell her the truth.
“Been busy,” I got out through gritted teeth.
“Yeah, use that excuse with someone else.” She rolled her eyes before checking out her reflection one last time. “Just help me pick this dress so we can leave already.”
Her tone was hurt, upset. And I was pissed with myself for making her feel that way, but I didn’t have a goddamn choice. Fuck you, Dad.
“Try on the next one,” I told her, trying to make my tone placating. “The red one you picked out. I liked that one.”
She rewarded me with a tiny smile before disappearing back behind the curtain.
I found myself trying to catch a glimpse of her in the mirror, chiding myself for being such a perverted fuck. But how the hell was I supposed to resist her? I’d been protective of her since we were kids. The only reason I’d disappeared was because my father had noticed. He warned me against ever touching her.
I had an inheritance to think of.
A family to please.
And as my father explained, no pussy was worth betraying your family for.
Sometimes I hated his fucking logic, even though I knew it made sense. It was especially annoying when it deprived me of the sweet, forbidden fruit that was Violet Cabot.
“Devlin!”
I turned in the direction of the voice, finding Violet peeking from behind the pale pink curtain, a smile lighting up her face. She looked so pretty. So innocent. So fucking wrong for me.
“Yes?” I growled.
“I think this one’s a winner!” she exclaimed, all grudges forgotten as she pulled the curtain open and sashayed into the waiting area.
She was wearing a beaded red and black cocktail dress with a deep V-bodice and a lace fringe at the bottom, and she looked breathtaking.
The dress was cut provocatively, revealing her décolletage and her toned arms, not to mention those mile-long legs. She wasn’t tall, but her body was sinful.
Whoever this Matthew was, he was goddamn lucky he’d scored her as a date to prom.
“Can you help zip me up?” she asked, lifting her mane of dark hair above her neck and exposing her bare back to me.
I swallowed my groan and approached her, touching the cold metal of the zipper and being careful not to brush my fingers over her skin. That would have been a fucking death sentence. My cock was already throbbing in my pants.
I zipped her up, taking a step back and eyeing her in the mirror.
She looked good next to me. Like we were made to be together.
I cleared my throat and stepped aside, muttering, “Yeah, just pick one already. I have a party to get to.”
She shot me a disappointed look, then nodded without saying a word and retreating into the changing room. Once she emerged, she gave me the red and black dress without meeting my eyes.
I paid for it with her Dad’s credit card, ignoring the sales assistant flirting with me as she packed up Violet’s dress. I handed the pale pink cardboard box with a huge black satin bow to my girl, and she beamed up at me.
“We’ll drop you off at your house,” I told her. “You got shoes to go with your dress?”
“I do,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “My mom was the same size, so I was going to wear one of her Louboutins.”
“Good girl,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
A glance at Violet revealed her pleasure at being called those two little words. It was all the proof I needed. I had a feeling she’d turn out to be a submissive doll and seeing her react so readily to my words only cemented my feelings.
The ride back to her place was spent with her chattering about the dance and me stewing in my own jealousy. Once we reached the Cabot Estate, she climbed out and blew me a kiss.
“Have fun at your party, Devlin,” she said with a bright smile.
“Yeah,” I grunted. “You too.”ThreeVioletPresent time“Annie, I’m so glad you made it!” I walked over to greet my best friend as she walked through the front door and removed her designer sunglasses.
“Do you think I would miss a Cabot party?” She looked around the room. “Where’s the alcohol?”
“My father is not going to serve you alcohol.” I giggled, grabbed her arm, and lowered my voice so nobody else could hear what I was about to say. “Maria is serving drinks, and I told her to put something extra in your cup.”
“I knew you were my best friend for a reason.” She nodded in understanding and walked with me towards the room where the party was being held.
There were a lot of guests that I recognized, but most of them weren’t my friends. A party at Cabot Manor, even if it was for my birthday, required invitations to people my father did business with. They would have felt snubbed if they didn’t get an opportunity to decline, and some of them came because it meant they might get some one-on-one time with a father—a rarity for most people. I walked around the room, greeting people I knew, meeting the new significant others I didn’t, and hugging the few members of my family that had been able to come. Nobody from my mother’s side of the family came, but that wasn’t a surprise. She passed when I was five, and I only knew most of them by name rather than appearance. Some of them would have been strangers if we passed on the street.