Chapter 7 - The Makeover
The penthouse Silas brought me to was a sprawling monument to cold, modern wealth.
Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the Boston skyline, but the space felt completely lifeless.
I spent the night curled on a massive leather sofa, unable to sleep as the reality of my mother's secret debt haunted me.
Graham had not chosen me by accident.
He had targeted me to collect the money my mother had hidden from his criminal father.
At dawn, a team of three impeccably dressed women arrived at the penthouse carrying garment bags and makeup cases.
Silas stood by the window, sipping black coffee while the women swarmed around me.
"Make her look like she belongs on the board of a Fortune 500 company," Silas instructed them.
For the next six hours, they scrubbed away the tired, heartbroken florist from South Boston.
They styled my light brown hair into an elegant, razor-sharp updo that pulled my cheekbones tight.
They applied makeup that masked my exhaustion and made my hazel eyes look predatory and cold.
Finally, they zipped me into a floor-length, backless emerald silk gown that cost more than a year of my rent.
When I stepped out of the dressing room, Silas actually stopped breathing for a second.
His dark eyes swept over me, and for the first time, I saw genuine surprise crack his stoic facade.
"Will this work?" I asked, feeling exposed despite the heavy silk.
Silas recovered his composure instantly and picked up a velvet jewelry box from the glass table.
He stepped close behind me, his warmth radiating against my bare back.
He clasped a heavy diamond necklace around my throat, his fingers lightly brushing my skin.
"You look exactly like the kind of woman who destroys men like Graham," Silas whispered near my ear.
A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold air conditioning.
We arrived at the grand ballroom of the historical museum exactly at eight o'clock.
The room was filled with politicians, celebrities, and ruthless corporate titans sipping expensive champagne.
I wrapped my arm securely around Silas's arm, forcing myself to project absolute arrogance.
Silas guided me through the crowd, pointing out the Sterling security guards disguised as waiters.
"The ledger containing the offshore routing numbers is in the host's private office on the second floor," Silas murmured.
"I will draw the guards away, and you will slip upstairs to crack the safe."
I nodded, feeling my heart pounding violently against the diamonds on my chest.
We turned the corner near the grand staircase, and I instantly froze in my tracks.
Standing at the center of the room, wearing a stunning diamond tiara, was the host of the charity auction.
It was Graham's mother, Evelyn.
She was laughing with a senator, looking completely at home in the world of billionaires.
May you like
Evelyn turned her head, and her sharp eyes locked directly onto my face.
She smiled a wicked, knowing smile and began walking straight toward us.
