on that scale, but we are going somewhere that does require I dress up. The dress is stunning—emerald green satin with a high slit running up my left thigh and ruching at the waist. It hugs my body in all the right places. The low, plunging neckline exposes just enough cleavage to be sexy but not overly exposed. My back is exposed in a low V, leaving little to the imagination.
I feel like a million dollars as I look at myself in the mirror, my blond curls tumbling around my shoulders and my subtle makeup highlighting my eyes. I’m a world away from the mess I was earlier, but I still feel the same inside. Like I’ll never be quite good enough to be the woman on his arm, whether I want to be or not.
With one last look at myself in the mirror, I grab my cell and the Chanel clutch that Baz bought for the evening and stuff everything I’ll need into the small, overpriced bag. It’s too small to fit the gun, so obviously, I leave it behind, hoping like hell I won’t need it tonight.
The drive isn’t too long from the resort to wherever we’re headed. We don’t head into the city like I expected, but instead, we drive farther and farther away from the vibrancy of downtown LA to the Holmby Hills where the rich live. Dan pulls to a stop in front of a mansion that extends on for what seems like miles, taking my breath away. The grandeur makes my heart pound, and my stomach churn in equal parts.
A marble fountain rests in the center of the circle drive where expensive cars are currently parked. There are men dressed in tuxedos, standing out front, guarding the massive doors. I glance around at the couples and groups of men walking from their lavish vehicles up to the doors.
“Where’s Baz?”
“Already inside.”
I swallow. The thought of walking inside alone doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve always had Baz at my side for these events. He was my silent support when I’d never admit aloud that I needed it, but now that I’ll have to walk in alone, it’s making me sick with anxiety just thinking about it.
Inhaling a deep breath, I reach for the door handle, but something stops me. Fear claws its way up my throat. I look back at Dan for confirmation.
“Am I in danger?” I ask, my voice trembling with fear.
His face softens for a second, putting me at ease. “Mr. King would never put you in danger.”
“That’s debatable,” I mumble under my breath as I climb out of the car. I half expect him to walk me to the doors, but he doesn’t. He leaves me to my own devices. Knowing Baz and how much of an asshole he is, I’m sure that was done on purpose. This whole night is meant to make me uncomfortable and feel off-kilter.
My heels click along the pavement, and my legs are trembling so badly, I’m surprised they don’t give out on me. Once I get to the looming wooden doors, one of the men wearing a tuxedo stops me.
“Name?”
“Mackenzie Wright?” It comes off as more of a question, but it still works. He opens the door for me, and I gasp. The inside of the mansion is magnificent. It’s all dark woods, with bright glittering chandeliers and famous artwork displayed on the walls. It screams wealth. Old money.
I pause just inside the foyer, clutching my purse to my body, looking around for any sign of Baz. I feel eyes on me. People who are milling about, with flutes of champagne in their hands, watch me with morbid curiosity. It’s as if they know I don’t belong here.
I startle when I feel a warm hand glide around my hip from behind. Even though I don’t want to, I settle into the familiar hold, using his firm body to pull myself together and draw strength from. Sucking in a lungful of air, I get a whiff of everything that is Baz, and my pounding heart slows.
“Glad you could follow directions,” he muses near my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I grimace as I look around, trying to figure out what the fuck is happening.
“What is this place?” I whisper under my breath, as I continue to people watch.
“You’ll see,” he murmurs vaguely. He guides me in step beside him as he stops for conversations with men around the great room. The chatter is loud, indicating