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Once I confirmed my interest, Xavier called for Fiona to help me change.
To be honest, the dress was stunning. It was like a princess gown, complete with lace
and a touch of elegance.
As I sat in the car, my excitement grew.
“Where are we going?” I asked, unable to hide my anticipation.
Xavier glanced at me with a sly grin, the kind that suggested he had a surprise in store.
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
Before long, we pulled up in front of a grand, elegantly designed hotel. It had a classic,
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high–end charm that screamed luxury.
“This is your idea of a delicious meal?” I asked, eyeing the hotel suspiciously. “Isn’t this some kind of networking banquet?”
Xavier shrugged, completely nonchalant.
“You wanted nice food and pretty clothes, didn’t you?”
Well, when he put it that way, it wasn’t entirely wrong.
Once inside the ballroom, I quickly slipped away from him. After all, he had tricked me
into coming here. I wasn’t about to make things easy for him.
I found myself a cozy spot and promptly set my sights on the array of mouthwatering
dishes laid out. Nothing on that buffet was safe from my appetite.
Just as I was getting comfortable, Xavier’s voice suddenly rang out across the room, followed by a high–pitched, almost whining voice from a girl.
“Xavier, after all these years, you still can’t forget her? Why can’t you see me? How am I any worse than her? Besides, if we were to get married, it would be a perfect match.”
Xavier’s voice, cold and detached, cut through the air. “Please let go of my arm,
Annabelle. We’re not that close.”
She whined, clinging to him with exaggerated affection. “Xavier, don’t be so distant! I know just hearing the name Lulu makes your heart skip a beat. My name is Annabelle York, but people call me Princess Lulu. So, it’s safe to say that means you like me too, right?”
At that moment, Xavier’s entire body tensed. His eyes darted around the room nervously before he hastily pulled his arm away.
His expression darkened. “I’ve already told you, don’t touch me. I’ll never marry into your
family.”
Annabelle put on an overly dramatic, wounded expression, covering her face and running towards the restroom in exaggerated tears.
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But I knew better. That cry was nothing but an act. If you really want to fake a breakdown, at least try harder. I, for one, wouldn’t have bothered with pulling out a handkerchief. She clearly had no clue how to sell it.
Meanwhile, Xavier hadn’t paid her a second glance. He was too busy scanning the crowd, trying to find me.
But there was no way he’d locate me that easily. I hadn’t even finished eating yet!
Just as I was chuckling at his obvious frustration, a waiter bumped into me, sending a cream–covered cake splattering across my dress.
The poor guy looked like he was about to faint, apologizing profusely, practically groveling at my feet.
Sure, the mess was annoying, but I wasn’t about to be petty. After all, the dress wasn’t
even mine.
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