Chapter 3 The Uninvited Guests

Ethan's first order of business was a fundraising gala for his company's latest initiative, and I'd never felt so out of my league.

The dress Celeste had picked out for me-a sleek black gown that hugged every inch of my body-was nothing like the comfortable clothes I usually wore. And the truth was, I felt exposed, like I was stepping into someone else's life, despite this outfit being expensive I felt like I wore my entire lift saving on my body.

"Breathe," Sophie said over the phone, her tone even and smooth. I paced my small apartment, trying not to hyperventilate.

"Easy for you to say," I muttered back, catching glimpses of myself in the mirror. "It's just a room full of rich people who all look like they belong there."

Sophie snorted. "Rich people pretending to be interesting," she corrected. "You'll be fine."

"Fine? What if I trip in these heels? Or spill something on someone? Or- God forbid-what if someone remembers me as that girl who spilled coffee on Ethan?" My pulse was racing just with the thought of it.

"Then you own it," Sophie said, her voice just so breezy that it almost irritated me. "Tell them it's your way of getting billionaires' attention."

Before I could protest, my phone buzzed with a text from Ethan Car downstairs. We're killing it tonight, get ready and look as hot as never before.

No pressure. None at all.

When we got to the gala-a beautiful and well decorated place that included chandeliers which, I kid you not, looked like they'd come straight out of a fairytale-I felt even more out of place.

Of course, Ethan was all looking good and His tailored suit had been cut to fit him like a glove, and he wove through the crowd with that kind of assurance that drew attention. My hands were shaking as my heart beat sounded like a drum set.

His hand rested on the lower part of my back as he introduced me to all his rich colleagues. The weight of his hand was strangely steadying even as a shiver ran down my spine. "Smile," he whispered.

"I am smiling," I lied in a hushed tone back, pushing my mouth corners up. It was already threatening to ache in my cheeks.

"Try harder," he growled.

I tried all I could to force a fake smile out of my mouth, I could already imagine how weird I look trying to force a smile.

Whispers followed us everywhere, like a low buzzing of speculation:

"Ethan Carter has a fiancée?"

She's so different."

Different. What did that even mean? Was it a compliment? An insult? I decided not to dwell on it and instead focused on walking gracefully in my too-high heels.

The real test of the night came when Ethan's rival, Marcus Delaney, sauntered over to us by the bar. Marcus was tall, polished, and had that kind of charm that felt a little too practiced, like he'd spent years perfecting it in front of a mirror.

Ethan," Marcus said, drawing out the syllables in that smug way of his. His gaze slid to me, and I instantly felt like a deer caught in headlights. "And who's this lovely creature?"

"Emma," Ethan said smoothly, pulling me just a little closer. "My fiancée."

If the gala had been a test of my ability to fake my way through a high-society event, dinner with Ethan's family was going to be a trial by fire.

We finally arrived in the Carter estate-a huge mansion that looked to be swept straight out of some movie, with marble steps, perfectly manicured gardens, and a front door that made me feel two inches taller.

We strode up the steps, but as we got toward the top, Ethan stopped suddenly. His hand seemed to tighten a bit around mine and we looked so adorable.

"Whatever happens, keep calm," he sweetly said.

Why? Are they going to eat me alive?" I teased, hoping that somehow this could lighten the mood. But he didn't budge an inch in his expression, and my nervousness went right through the roof.

The door opened onto Mrs. Eleanor Carter, Ethan's mother. Impeccably dressed and with just that air of intimidation to have me straightening my shoulders just one inch.

"Ethan," she said warmly. "And this must be Emma.

Her sharp eyes swept over me, taking in every detail. Then, to my surprise, she smiled.

“You’re even prettier than Ethan described,” she said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Carter—”

“Eleanor,” she corrected, pulling me into herself and throwing me surprising warm hug. “We’re family now.”

My chest pounded uncontrollably as the rest of the house were the dining room, with a huge table able to accommodate twenty people in comfort. I had barely uttered a word when Ethan's younger brother, Liam, spoke up.

"So, you're the famous fiancée," he said, smiling, equal amounts charming and devilish. "I'm Liam, Carter younger brother." He introduced himself.

"Liam…," Ethan growled, exasperated.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Nice to meet you," I said. "And for the record, Ethan speaks highly of you."

Liam raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Does he now?"

Dinner started off smoothly enough, with Eleanor asking me polite questions about how Ethan and I had met. I thought I was doing well—until the sharp click of heels echoed through the room, This was the beginning of the moment I never wanted to come across.

"Ethan.

The voice was low, silky, and set my nerves on edge immediately. I turned to see Cara Simmons—Ethan's jealous ex—girlfriend, Her body bounced as she walked into the dining room as if she owned it. Her red dress hugged her figure like it had been tailor-made, and the look she shot me could scare away a group of hungry lions.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing a guest," she said, her gaze locking onto mine.

Ethan tensed up beside me, and my heart started to pound. This wasn't dinner anymore; this was a battlefield, and Cara looked ready to draw blood.