Page 118 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“Wear a suit or whatever. They probably won’t care.”

“Probably isn’t good enough.”

“For fuck’s sake, it might not even be the same party.”

I pressed my hands over my mouth to stop whatever screamy noises wanted to get out and flap around the room like frenzied bats.

“Shit. Fuck.” Ellery’s boots hit the floor with a clatter of buckles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Still. I had to be still. Inside and out. Because the twitch of a capillary could trigger some chain reaction that would end with me exploding in a burst of nuclear fire.

“Hey.” Ellery’s fingers brushed over mine—the touch as light as Ariadne’s thread, drawing Theseus through the labyrinth. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

“N-nothing feels okay. What if he’s not there?”

Her gaze held mine, her eyes steady and almost hypnotic, full of greens that had no counterpart in Caspian’s. “He will be.”

“What if I’m too late? What if he won’t listen? What if Nathaniel—”

“Stop it, Arden.”

The sudden sharpness of her voice took me by surprise. And sliced right through my rapidly unspooling thoughts.

“I just mean,” she went on awkwardly “you’ve got this. My brother’s a dick. And also a wreck. But if anyone can help him get his shit together, it’s you.”

I leaned into her, rubbing the edge of my brow against her cheek—which was probably a fucking weird thing to do, but it felt comforting and I wasn’t totally ready for hugs. “Thank you. And for…coming back and forgiving me. And for saving me from Stey—”

“Don’t.” Ellery squirmed as if I was a great-aunt in a Victorian’s children’s story. “You’re being embarrassing.”

“I just want you to know that you’re the most amazing friend.”

“Yeah, okay. Can you shut up about it now?”

“And I love you.”

“Gross.”

I laughed, surprising myself, the edges of the world losing some of their jaggedness. Impossibilities that had loomed large seconds ago shrinking like shadows until I could breathe…think…hope. “But I’m afraid I need to ask you one last thing.”

Her brows creased warily. “What is it?”

“Do you have a frock I can borrow?”

This wasn’t, as it might have seemed, a desperation gambit. Though Ellery’s personal style tended towards an aggressive absence of fucks, the red dress she’d worn for her birthday was spectacular—and I couldn’t believe it had been chosen by anyone but her. In fact, I’d long suspected there was more to Ellery than met the eye when it came to fashion, a notion proven correct when she asked, “Cocktail or evening?”

“Whatever will get me through the door.”

“Leave it to me, Cinderella.” Ellery practically bounced off the sofa. “Youshallgo to the crappy sex party.”

And then she vanished into her room, leaving me to…fuck. Cope with the shock of being alone. Which I hadn’t expected to be a shock. But in the silence, Lancaster Steyne could have been anywhere. Stepping through every doorway. Out of every corner.

Except he wasn’t. He wasn’t. He was gone. And unlikely to come back. And when this was over, I was going to make sure I got all the therapy. Because he didn’t get to fuck me up. And I was a part of Caspian’s world that would never belong to him.

I showered, since I didn’t want to go to a party or, indeed, exist any longer smelling of sexual assault. With George due imminently, I didn’t have long. But I could have stayed in there forever, losing Lancaster Steyne in the steam, and the ceaseless rush of water down my skin. When I got out, and had towelled off and teased my hair into something resembling attractive, I found Ellery waiting for me, her arms full of silk.

She smirked at me. “Try this.”

The dress was a floor-length sheath, as achingly simple as Cruella de Vil’s famous mink coat, although, thankfully, much less cruel. If it had been white, it would have been virginal, but it was silver, as bright and supple as mercury, subtly gleaming with its own wicked lustre. It slithered down me like new skin, the cling of the fabric at once revealing and concealing, turning my body into a mystery, sleekly androgynous and draped in starlight.