KIMBERLY

opened behind me, disturbing the miniscule semblance of peace I had.

Without looking, I spoke, "Mama, I said I'll be fine. Don't worry." I turned around to see someone who was definitely not my mother. "You're not my mom."

"Acute observation, vixen. If I was, this would be a very awkward marriage." Jace pursed his lips, still standing by the door. The warm garden lights accentuated his sharp features even further. In another life, he could've made a living as a male model or something. He was just that unbelievably... sexy.

But... vixen? It was an interesting—yet understandably fitting—nickname. A snort bubbled out of me at his response and I turned back around.

There were no light sounds of his Italian leather shoes hitting the wood, so I swiveled my head to face him again. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? I don't bite... unless you ask for it." I smirked at the last bit to see him roll his eyes with a subtle ghost of a smile.

"You may not bite, but your snap is arguably worse," he retorted before a hint of sincerity—I'm convinced I was imagining it—filled his tone. "Are you... okay?"

I trilled my lips, unsure of how to answer the question I've been asked a million times in my life, each time leaving me searching for an answer that wasn't there. "I guess... I don't know. I'll be fine. It's just"—I sighed, raising my shoulders—"all this marriage-talk makes me jittery."

He still stood a decent distance away from me, as if he was afraid I was going to explode if he came near. "Understandable. It's not a light topic."

That was the understatement of the century.

I wished I had another drink in my hand to cope with all of this. I took give-or-take five shots of vodka for confidence before getting ready, but the effects were gone the second Mom entered my room.

I cleared my throat, "Thanks for not ratting out the contract we signed. I forgot to tell you earlier, but I think it's best we don't tell our families about the conditions. As far as they're concerned, we're staying married for the foreseeable future."

His lack of response—besides the subtle one nod—had me infuriated. You'd think he'd be more involved in this gargantuan mess of a topic, but all I've gotten were head nods and pursed lips.

Unable to contain my annoyance, I asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Getting engaged." I rolled my eyes at his sarcastic response.

"I meant what are you doing outside." My tone was quite snippy, but everything about him just got on my nerves. "You could've waited for a few minutes with everyone. I wasn't planning on running away."

I heard a soft swish from what I was assuming was his suit. I didn't turn around despite my piqued curiosity. "In those shoes, I don't think you'd make it that far." I was about to retort about how I could run miles in my Louboutins, but I kept that information to myself. "That's beside the point, if there's anything I strongly dislike, it's wasting time. So, I'm here to get this over with."

"What? You want to consummate this marriage right now? That's a little presumptuous, Jace." As Mom always said, my mouth and attitude would get me into major trouble one day. Regardless, I turned around to see his jaw locked and eyes closed with a small velvet box in his hand.

"You're infuriating. You know that?" His eyes finally opened, but remained narrowed at the sickly sweet smile I had on.

"It's one of my best qualities," I replied, scrunching up my face. "But what happened to getting down on one knee? Is chivalry dead?"

Ignoring my remarks, he gently shook the box in his hand. "For the press conference tomorrow, it would make sense if things looked more official." He opened the box, my jaw slacking in the process.

Inside was the most beautiful engagement ring I think I've ever seen.

It was unconventional—to say the least—as far as engagement rings go. It was a rose-gold band, adorned with an oval-shaped ruby, surrounded by tiny white diamonds. I was expecting something more classic and traditional, but this was more my style. The exact shade of the ruby was a dark reddish-pink, which happened to be my favorite color if it wasn't obvious by my ensemble.

No matter the outfit, I always made it a point to have something red on me. Anything sufficed, as long as it was my comfort color. "I can't accept this."

Don't get me wrong, I love gifts. This, however, was too much and too personal.

"Alex gave me this ring. He would prefer that I give this to you instead of buying another ring for no reason." I could sense there was something he was holding back in his tone, but remembering the contract, I didn't bother asking him in case it fell into the "personal questions" category.

"Why the fuck does Alex have a random engagement ring lying around?" I altered what I was intending to say, directing my question more towards Alex. But the expression on my fiancé's face told me I still wouldn't be getting an answer.

"Ask him, not me."

His aloofness was getting even more on my nerves now, but I dropped it, focusing on the ring again. "Are you gonna put it on me or should I do it myself?"

He released a sharp breath before looking at me with raised eyebrows. "Would you like me to put it on you?" I shook my head vigorously—knowing it would get on his nerves—and carefully took the ring out, putting it on my own finger. I couldn't help but bring it up to the light to see it shine.

"It's really beautiful."

"Yeah, it is."

♕♕♕

Dinner was uneventful, as expected.

After Jace and I returned to the drawing room and signed everything, the chef announced that dinner was ready and we all made our way to the dining room. The moment we took our respective seats, small chatter filled the air, everyone indulged in their own conversations.

Gigi took the time to show me all the pictures she took in Tanzania and we caught up on everything that happened since we last saw each other in January.

But—every so often—my eye would catch on the ring, reminding me of what I got myself into.

When Mom saw the ring on my finger, she smiled endearingly, raising her eyebrow as if to say 'I told you so'. I couldn't let her see how miserable I was feeling about this entire marriage, so I forced a smile, rolling my eyes for extra measure.

My only solace for the night was that Dad was busy talking to Alex and Jace about something most likely related to Laurent-Shaw, so I could get away with drinking as much as I wanted. "Ana, how's everything going at the restaurant?"

My words were slightly slurred, but not too much that it would be obvious how drunk I was right now.

If only Vivi were here.

I begged Dad to let her come, but he looked me straight in the eye and rejected it. According to him, it would be inappropriate to get my best friend involved in such a personal matter. As if, she wasn't already involved in all my personal matters.

Plus, her father, Darren Liu, was the one to draw up the contract before returning to Singapore, so it wasn't like she wasn't already involved somehow.

The tone in his voice signaled that it was the end of the conversation and I would just have to suck it up.

I almost forgot I even asked Ana a question until she suddenly answered, "Things are good." Even if she was a woman of few words, the underlying kindness in her tone never failed to put a smile on my face. While she was the exact opposite of Gigi in every way, I loved the twins equally.

"We should ask them to cater for the wedding, no?" Effie asked Alex, gently probing him away from his conversation. I couldn't help but notice the look Jace shot them from across the table, as if he were trying to decipher their relationship.

I really fucked myself over by adding the "no personal questions" clause to the contract because my curiosity was spewing out of my ears at this point. I didn't want anyone to know my shit, but I was nosey and loved knowing everyone else's business.

Alex took his wife's request into consideration before turning to Ana. "The restaurant does events, right?"

"Yes, the chef would be ecstatic to cater for Kimberly Astor's wedding," Ana replied softly. "And you too, Jace."

Jace didn't respond, simply nodding his head once. For the millionth time, the way he nodded in dismissal annoyed the shit out of me. It's like he didn't even give a flying shit that we were getting married.

I gulped down the rest of the wine before pouring myself some more. I would kill for something hard right now.

That's what she said.

"We'll call the owner soon," Mom finalized, before turning her attention to me. "Nena, are you ready for the press conference tomorrow?"

"Of course, Mama," my words slurred together again, causing Jace's eyes to narrow at my wine glass. "You know me. The cameras love me."

"They won't if you're throwing up all over them," Dad responded dryly.

"Dad," I started with an innocent edge to my voice, taking a sip of my wine. "Do you have any other hobbies besides judging your daughter? I feel like you'd benefit from diversifying your interests."

"Kimberly," he replied, matching my tone. "Do you have any other hobbies besides drinking? I feel like you'd benefit from water once in a while."

I mentally let out a snort. Touché...

Scrunching my face, I tilted it up in agreement. "I can't even get mad at that. That was a good one, Dad. I walked right into it."

At my response, light chuckles erupted from the rest of the table, witnessing the tense—yet still humorous—relationship between me and Dad.

Grabbing the stem of my wine glass, I went to take another sip when Jace's hand came into my vicinity, switching my glass of wine for one filled to the brim with water. "Press conference."

The two words did nothing to alleviate the anger running through my blood. I narrowed my eyes at him, calming the urge to douse him with the water he just handed me. I didn't need a babysitter or someone to look out for me. And, I most certainly did not want him to think he had any authority to control my actions.

Sensing my gaze on him, he turned to meet my fiery eyes with his cool ones. He had the same aloof expression from earlier, but all it did was make the fire inside me burn hotter. I wasn't one to back out or lose a staring contest, but something about the way he was looking at me made me feel naked.

The intensity behind that gaze, the wall of wintry ice hiding any form of emotion he'd even have the possibility to exude, and the powerful muscles of his beautifully hard body bulging out of that suit all had me distracted. Turned on, even.

It was absolutely treacherous.

Desperate to cool down, I grabbed the glass and absentmindedly drank the water. I hadn't realized I lost the actual battle until his eyes focused on the empty glass with a satisfied smirk. It didn't take much to rile me up, but it's been ages since a man ever made me feel so... hot all over.

But, more than that, I hated how vulnerable he made me feel under his gaze.

I absolutely fucking hated it.

"Don't embarrass yourself tomorrow, Kimberly," Dad called out, interrupting my thoughts. "Remember, we need to make the public think the two of you have been seeing each other privately for a while. Laurent needs to think this is a solid match, if we want him to consider backing off."

I rolled my eyes, wanting nothing more than to go back to my apartment. There was no way in hell that I would spend the night here considering how much Dad's judgment was irking me.

"Trust me, I know how to handle press." He looked like he wanted to interrupt me, probably reminiscing on the pictures from a couple days ago, but I beat him to it. "Is there anything else or can I go home already?"

"No, Kimmy, that should be all," Alex answered sympathetically. "Oh wait, the engagement party is tomorrow night at our house. It's gonna be a small, but publicized gathering. You know the type."

I nodded, knowing 'small' in our world was quite the opposite. Plus, knowing how close the Kingston's lived to my aunt, there's no doubt that Aunt Lucy is going to go all out. I loved the woman, but she went crazy for parties. "Okay, I'm gonna head out now. It's getting late. It was nice seeing all of you."

I went around the table, hugging Gigi, Ana, Effie, and Alex. Jace and I weren't that close—despite the new label—and I was in no mood to hug Dad. I saved Mom for last, whispering an "I love you, Mama" in her ear.

Thankfully, all of my stuff was by the door because I was too lazy to take it upstairs.

Grabbing my belongings, I made my way outside and towards my Rolls Royce. Just as I was approaching the door, heavy footsteps thudded from behind me. I swung my bag in self-defense only to turn around and see my fiancé rubbing his arm.

"Jesus, what do you carry in that?" A sadistic part of me was glad to see him in a state other than his normal rigid-self, but I quickly shoved those thoughts down.

"Hard drugs," I deadpanned. "Do you have a habit of sneaking up behind pretty girls?"

"No, not the pretty ones," he replied, matching my energy, which was infuriating on its own. "Go to my car"—he nodded his head towards the front of the house—"I'm driving you back to your apartment."

"I don't remember asking you," I snarkily replied, upset with him trying to act like my babysitter again. If I find out that Dad put him up to this, I'm wreaking havoc.

Without responding, he took my bag with my keys out of my hand and walked to what I assumed was his car. From what I can tell in the dark, it was a sleek, black Aston Martin, but not even the sexiness of the car would convince me to drive with him.

Sadly, I had no other options if I wanted my keys back, so I followed. "Not only do you sneak up behind pretty girls, but you rob them too? What kind of man are you?"

He continued without another word, but finally responded when he reached the driver's side of the car. "You don't want the answer to that question," he replied, the smolder in my eyes tempting me to knock him out. "And, if you think I'm going to let you drive while you're drunk, you're truly more insane than I originally anticipated."

"I'm not drunk." My response was pathetic and not true in the slightest, but I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of being right.

In all honesty, I originally planned to just sit in my car and wait for the alcohol to wear off before finally driving home. Considering how much I consumed, it would've taken a while, but anything beats staying home for another second.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, vixen," Jace breathed out, moving into the car. I rolled my eyes and hastily followed. I didn't have any response to his comment, so me-being-me, I changed the subject.

"You claim that I'm not 'pretty', but considering how hard you were staring at my chest in your office proves otherwise." The seductive edge in my tone paired with the physical contact we had with my hand lightly grazing him to take my bag should have been enough to turn him on, but it wasn't.

Or at least, he was really good at hiding it.

I wasn't used to this. I was used to people eating out of my hand or doing anything I wanted with a million-dollar smile.

So, what the fuck was his problem?

"I was merely taking a look at what you clearly wanted me to see. You're not exactly subtle, Astor," he muttered the last statement, every word hitting me like bullets.

"I'll show you subtlety," I gritted through my teeth.

"I don't count on it."

"Oh, fuck off."

***

their banter >>>>

y'all when i say i wish i could write at the speed that my brain comes up with ideas for this book, i mean it. like, i have soooo many things planned, but these fingers don't move fast enough (that's what she said).

love, zia.