The Secret Heiress | ✔️

19 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜

☘︎ Jᴇɴɴɪғᴇʀ Rʏsᴏɴ ☘︎

Sequins of the richest rose-gold colour twinkle under the luminescent light as I peruse myself in the floor-length mirror, wearing a millions dollars worth of evening dress that hugs my form demurely.

My hair is partitioned from the mid, straight brunette strands cascading to the small of my back. Earings of the finest pearls adorn my ears, a single gold chain looping around my neck. The makeup looks natural and refined with nude lip-shade and face accents. Gentlest dustings of gold highlighters touch my eyelids and cheeks, accentuating the cheekbones and making the green of my eyes look more vibrant with a coat of mascara on the lashes.

I look elegant, if not beautiful.

"You look like a daydream, Jennifer." Siya sighs dramatically, flopping on the couch at the corner of my room in a flair of black silk, stunning as ever.

"Yes! You look beautiful, Miss Ryson!" Viviane chimes in. She very much looks that too, the russian in her somehow wildly visible in the way she pulls-off the red cocktail dress with those curves and figure of hers. Her makeup is dark and deadly, but she still manages to look cheery as ever.

There's something about Viviane I can't quite shake-off. There are times, when I've this bizarre intuition that she's like a wolf in sheep's clothing. One wrong move and you'll realize just how dangerous she could be. But that is probably my lack of trust in people speaking.

Shaking the thought, I straighten my dress one last time and look to Siya, who gives me a thumbs up before turning professional.

"My sources tell me there's some announcement that's going to happen today in Davidson Annual Party, something with the involvement of Vitallis Group. Maybe they're doing a joint project? But that's not our concern. Remember the purpose of attending the event is to clear out your name and act like a black woman who does not take shit from others and definitely doesn't let a measly cop ruin her reputation. It's show time, baby." Siya declares, pride in her eyes at her African culture.

I almost smile, but then at the mention of Vitallis Group, I remember how Lykas had looked torn today morning before he had to leave after a week of staying at my place, lazing around. In the past week, there were moments I'd find him smiling at me when I wasn't looking and when I'd raise a brow in question, he'd simply grin wider at being caught. I kept my respectable distance after nearly kissing him a week ago, but he'd find the stupidest of reasons to spend time with me after I returned from office. From him suggesting we watch lame movies together to presenting board games and showing up with champagne bottles to share.

But it had all come to a halt when the elite team had come to pick him up today morning, claiming to forcefully drag him out of my mansion if Lykas didn't go himself, as per the instructions of David Vitallis. The head of the elite team, Geet, had apologetically muttered some reminder in Lykas' ear to which he'd gone so still, as if whatever it was she said, he hadn't remembered at all and now that he did, it crumpled him to his bones. I wanted to ask, but they had dragged Lykas out because he wasn't able to move himself from the shock, from the flicker of hurt and realization.

I'd tried to stop them from taking him but he'd pulled me close by my waist, placed a gentle kiss to my cheek and whispered, "It's okay, sweetheart."

Then Lykas was gone and I didn't very much like the way I sort of longed his annoying presence in my house. I'd lived alone by myself for so long and I take pride in it.

I pick up the golden clutch from the vanity mirror absent-mindedly and shift the topic to Siya's other words, "Ethan is definitely not a measly cop. He's at a high position in the department and is rich as the crown prince of London. He'll probably be in the party, to keep an eye on us more than to attend the event," I muse then fix my gaze on Siya's irritated face, "What is your issue with Ethan Langford?"