Chapter 43

**G R A C E**

The mirror fogs over as I step out of the shower, my skin still tingling from the hot water. I grab a towel and wrap it around myself, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that has settled in my chest. Tonight is supposed to be my first official night in the Moretti’s worth—the initiation dinner—but instead of excitement, all I feel is weird unease. I sigh, running a hand through my damp hair as I step out of the bathroom.
Just as I’m about to reach for my clothes, the doorbell rings. My heart leaps, and I freeze. Who would be here now? For the briefest moment, my heart races, hoping—no, expecting—it to be him.

I quickly tie the towel tighter around me and head downstairs, barefoot, with the marble floors cold under my feet. I open the door, holding my breath, only for my shoulders to sag in disappointment. It’s not Alex.
It’s Lizzy.

Alex’s assistant, standing there with her usual frosty expression, her eyes studying me like I’m an unsolved puzzle. Her perfectly tailored black suit contrasts with the warmth of the evening, and her sharp gaze cuts through the soft twilight spilling into the entryway.

“Lizzy,” I say, a mocking lilt in my voice. “You do realize Alex doesn’t live here anymore, right?” I throw it out just to annoy her, and sure enough, her lips twitch into a slight frown.

Her eyes narrow as she holds up a large package, a velvet dress in lavender with a hanger attached. "Your dress for the evening," she says, her tone flat, like she’s speaking to a child who’s been misbehaving.
I arch a brow. "Orders from the boss?"

Lizzy doesn’t answer. She just shoves the dress into my hands and turns on her heel to leave, her heels clicking on the stone path.

I close the door behind me, walking back up the stairs, running my fingers over the fabric of the dress. It’s beautiful—velvet, in a soft lavender shade that looks like it belongs in a royal wardrobe. The material is rich and smooth beneath my fingers, the kind of dress that makes you feel expensive just by touching it.

But I’m not wearing this.

I toss it on the bed and open my wardrobe, pulling out the red dress—the one with a thousand buttons that Alex had been so fixated on. The memory of his hands on the fabric, the way he undid each button with such deliberate slowness, flashes through my mind, making my pulse quicken. I smirk to myself. If I’m going to see him tonight, he’s going to regret not checking on me sooner.

I step into the dress, but of course, the buttons are impossible to do up on my own. Cursing under my breath, I rush to the window, spotting Lizzy just a few steps away from the beach house. "Lizzy!" I call out, leaning out the window. She stops and turns, her expression as cold as ever.

She walks back begrudgingly, and when she reaches the door, I hold up the back of my dress. “I need help with these.”

Her lips purse in disapproval, and when she sees that it’s not the lavender dress she brought, her irritation only deepens. “Why aren’t you wearing the dress I brought?” she asks, her voice sharp.
“I like this one better. Is there a problem?”

For a moment, she looks like she might argue, but then she just mutters, “No, it’s fine. Better actually.” Her fingers work swiftly down the row of buttons, the silence between us thick with tension. When she finishes, I turn toward the mirror, but Lizzy’s still staring at me with that judgmental look.

“What?” I ask, brushing my damp hair over my shoulder.

She looks at me like I’ve committed some unspeakable crime. Without a word, she grabs a hairbrush and pushes me down into the chair by the vanity, yanking at my hair with practiced precision. Within minutes, she’s twisted it into an elegant, sleek bun that I would’ve never been able to pull off on my own.

“There,” she says, stepping back to admire her work. “Now you look... presentable.”

I roll my eyes but secretly admire the polished look. As she’s about to leave, she pauses at the doorway and looks back at me. “Wear red lipstick.” Then, without waiting for a response, she walks out, leaving me a little stunned by her sudden interest in my appearance.

Once I’m ready, I slip into my heels, grabbing my small clutch, and head out. I’m supposed to meet Sophia at her place, but as I approach, I hear voices from inside. I freeze when I recognize Carl’s voice. My heart sinks. Of course, Carl would be picking her up tonight.

I remember the way he looked at her—no, the way he looked at me when he talked to her. The discomfort it brought to Sophia’s eyes, the way she’d fidget under his gaze. I don’t want to interrupt them, especially not when Sophia’s been so awkward around him lately. So, instead, I duck into the narrow alley between our houses, waiting for them to leave.

After a few minutes, I watch as they walk off in the opposite direction, and when I’m sure they’re gone, I step out of the shadows. Now the problem is, I have no idea where this dinner is supposed to be.
Pulling out the phone Alex gave me, I glance at the screen. No messages. No directions. No check-ins. Nothing.

I sigh, slipping the phone back into my clutch and start walking towards the beach. Maybe I can hear the party at some point. The sound of the ocean crashes around me, almost loud enough to drown out the chaos in my mind. I’m walking in what I think is the direction of the party, but honestly, I have no idea where I’m going. I check my phone again—still nothing. No messages, no details, nothing from Alex. My frustration and uncertainty gnaw at me, but I push forward. I’ll figure it out on my own if I have to.

It’s only when I realize I’ve wandered a little too close to the water that my heels sink into the wet sand. “Damn it,” I mutter, stepping back quickly, trying to avoid wrecking my dress. But instead of making a clean escape, I slam right into something—or, rather, someone. A hard chest.

I gasp, spinning around in surprise, but before I can even process what’s happening, a hand wraps around my waist, steadying me.

Matt.