Chapter 5

chapter five

Addie

I can do this.

I can do this.

I can do this.

I recite the mantra for the hundredth time as I peer into the mirror in front of me at my reflection, exhaling shakily. I keep telling myself the same line over and over in hopes that I'll convince myself that it's true.

That I will somehow make it through this "engagement" party unscathed. I've thought of a hundred different excuses to try and get out of it, but I know that if I don't show up, the consequences will be far too great.

"Ready?" Amos says softly, stepping off the stairs into my room. The expression on his face is tight with apprehension and worry, the same feelings that are weighing heavily in the pit of my stomach, along with the looming sense of dread.

I drag my gaze from my reflection to him and sigh. "What am I doing, Amos? I can't go through with this. I can't believe he's even expecting me to go through with this. I barely know this guy, and what I do know isn't good… and I'm supposed to marry him?"

I walk over to my bed and flop onto the edge of the springy mattress, pulling Auggie's chunky body into my arms and squeezing him tightly against me. He cuddles into me, somehow always knowing when I need his comfort.

"You don't have to do anything, Addie. He can't force you into this," he says, joining me on the bed. "You can tell him no, and we'll figure something out. There has to be another way, and we'll find it."

A humorless laugh escapes my lips as I brush my fingers over Auggie's soft fur. "You know that's not true. If I don't do this, we lose Ever After. There's no other option. I've been searching for months for a way to save things, and I've found nothing. No last-minute Hail Mary. I'm just… going to have to do it. If it means saving the one place my mother loved more than anything, then I have to."

He reaches out, taking my hand in his and squeezing. It's a small gesture, but somehow, his quiet reassurance gives me strength. Strength to do this. To go to a party in a room full of people that I don't know and pretend to be celebrating an engagement to a man I don't want to be with.

I'll hate every part of what I'm being forced to do, but I'll do it for the bakery. To hold on to this piece of my mother, to not allow anyone to take it from me. The last piece I have of her. Her legacy.

"There's still time. Just make it through this party, keep your chin held high, and we'll figure it out. I promise, Addie. We will figure it out together."

I know he's talking about him and Earl, but it's not their responsibility. Or their debt. They're my family, but this is my problem.

Ever After is supposed to be mine, and I can't just give it away without trying everything in my power to save it. I can't let it be taken away from me.

Putting on a fake, cheery smile, I suck in a deep breath, then put Auggie on the bed to return to his umpteenth nap of the day. I steel my spine and stand, smoothing my slightly rumpled dress down.

"It's now or never. I've got an engagement party to attend."

Downstairs, the dining room and foyer have been transformed into something out of a magazine. A very bougie magazine, and immediately, I wonder how in the world Brent paid for this. If the bakery is struggling as badly as he says, how did he afford an… ice sculpture? Waitstaff… caviar ?

I've always known that appearances are everything to him, but this is completely over-the-top, even for him. And it makes me furious he wasted what little money we have left on this frivolous sham.

Rolling my eyes, I swipe a glass of champagne off a passing server's tray and take a large gulp. I'm not much of a drinker, or really a drinker at all, but I need all the courage I can muster to make it through tonight, even if it's in the liquid form. The bubbly, bitter liquid burns as it slides down my throat, and I wince, my nose wrinkling in response.

Jeez, that's terrible. My first, and probably last, drink. I set the still-full glass down on a table and make my way through the room, quickly realizing that I don't recognize… anyone. Not a single person in this room. I feel like a fish out of water as I pass men in freshly starched tuxedos and women in gowns wearing diamonds and expensive-looking furs.

The feeling only worsens as I pass the violinist playing an upbeat classical tune as I make my way deeper into the room.

"Ah, Addie, there you are," I hear from the left. When I glance over, I see Brent with a wide, albeit fake, smile on his face, standing with my faux fiancé and his family. "You remember Dixon's father, Judge Barrilleaux, and his mother, Elizabeth."

It takes everything inside of me not to turn in the other direction and flee, away from him and this ridiculous party.

Instead, I paste on a small smile and nod, offering them my hand. "Hi, yes. It's great to see you again."

Elizabeth shakes my hand, leaning forward to air-kiss each of my cheeks. "Hello. Addie, you look ravishing, darling." The haughty air of her words makes me cringe, but I keep the feeling to myself as I nod and then shake her husband's hand before turning and focusing my attention on Dixon.

We've met a handful of times, growing up in the same social circles, and since we were children, he's given me a feeling that makes my insides crawl.

I hate the way his gaze slides down my body, resting on my chest for far too long before coming back to my eyes. The slow perusal makes my stomach turn and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from recoiling from his touch when he reaches for my hand.

"Hello, Addie," he murmurs, his voice low as he holds my hand hostage in his. His words slither down my spine in a way that makes me feel nauseous, but I make sure my smile never wanes, even as I forcibly tug my hand free.

I nod curtly. "Dixon."

"What a joyous occasion for us to celebrate!" Brent says, lifting his champagne glass high between us. Elizabeth, Judge Barrilleaux, and Dixon raise their glass in a toast, clinking against his.

We're celebrating an arranged marriage , I think to myself, bile rising in my throat. A marriage that you've coerced me into, using the only thing I've ever truly loved as leverage to force my hand.

There's nothing remotely joyous about this occasion.

"Addie, could I have a moment… alone with you?" Dixon says with an air of superiority, and everyone's gaze flicks to me.

I can't deny him in front of everyone, and he knows it.

"Of course." I give another forced smile as he sweeps his hand out toward the door that leads to the porch, gesturing me forward and away from our parents.

As I rigidly walk away with Dixon, my gaze finds Amos, who's standing in the corner, his jaw tight with worry. But he can't intervene.

Not with Brent here. The stakes are too high.

Subtly, I give a nod in reassurance and lift my chin, making my way through the crowd toward the exit. The sticky, humid night air hits my face the moment I step outside, draping around me heavily.

It's quieter out here, with only a few couples littered along the wraparound porch, providing Dixon the privacy he's requested.

The last thing I want to do is be alone with him, but I didn't see another option when he put me on the spot in front of his parents and my stepfather. I move toward the railing when he shuts the door and cross my arms over my chest to hide from his perpetually wandering gaze.

Clearly, it doesn't help when he slides his gaze down my body, making me feel like an object that he's attempting to possess. God, he's sleazy.

I clear my throat, and his eyes flick to mine.

"You wanted to talk?"

He nods before raising the champagne glass to his lips, downing the remaining liquid in a single gulp. From the outside, Dixon Barrilleaux looks like the epitome of his namesake. As the son of one of the most influential judges in New Orleans, he oozes privilege and entitlement from every pore of his body. Custom-tailored suits, Italian leather loafers, a custom Rolex. Objectively, he'd be considered handsome, with perfectly styled hair, a chiseled, angular jaw, broad shoulders, and a too-perfect smile.

You wouldn't know the cold, calculated truth that lies beneath the polished facade. That the privilege of his upbringing has made him cruel, arrogant, and ruthless.

"Yeah, what's wrong with wanting to talk to my fiancée in private at our engagement party?" he rasps darkly, the irises of his eyes hollowing to almost black. When he steps closer, I retreat backward, hitting the railing behind me.

I glance around us before lowering my voice. "No need to pretend when we're alone, Dixon. You know this marriage is a farce just as much as I do."

A gruff laugh tumbles from his lips, devoid of any humor, the sound sending goose bumps along my flesh despite the late-August heat. "I know that you're my prize. The one I've always wanted yet never been able to have. You're finally going to be mine, Addie. My wife . In every sense of the word, whether you want to be or not. This marriage is happening, and if I were you, I'd be on my very best behavior… because I'm not the kind of man who tolerates disobedience."

That knot of dread twists deeper in my stomach as revulsion washes over me in pulsing waves. Surely… No . I've always known that he's wanted me, but not like this. Not when it's clear I'm not, and never have been, interested in him that way.

I suck in a sharp breath as I clutch the railing, digging my nails into the wood and trying to ground myself.

Reaching out, he drags the rough pad of his index finger across my shoulder and down the exposed skin of my arm, making me shudder. He smiles sinisterly as he whispers darkly, "Two weeks, and you'll be mine, sweet little Addie."

The words feel like a prison sentence, shackling me in place while my head swims.

As I open my mouth to speak, a voice interrupts.

"Addie, I need to speak with you." My gaze whips to Amos, who's standing by the door, his jaw clenched tightly as he shoots piercing daggers toward Dixon with his eyes. "Right away. It's important."

It's the only excuse I need to flee. Pushing Dixon off me, I brush past him without another word.

The moment Amos slides his hand in mine, tugging me back inside, relief floods my chest so powerfully that I feel like I could cry. A swell of emotions that have finally crested hits me at once.

Attempting to tamp down the emotions, I follow closely behind Amos as my heart pounds in my chest, still trying to make sense of the exchange that just transpired.

I'm disgusted… and for the first time, I feel truly hopeless. And terrified.

Amos pulls me inside Brent's study, where I find Earl already inside, then shuts the door quietly, flipping the lock and drowning out the party.

My brow furrows in confusion as I take it all in. "What's going on?"

Not that I'm not beyond thankful to have been rescued by him, to be far away from Dixon, but their expressions are terse, and tension sits heavily in the air.

Something's happened.

"This couldn't wait," Amos says. "Earl… tell her. Go on."

My gaze shifts to Earl's tall, hulking frame as he begins to pace the floor nervously. The feeling in my stomach tightens as I wait for him to speak. There aren't many times in my life that I've seen Earl nervous, and it does nothing but increase my anxiety.

"Honey, you're making her anxious," Amos says to him softly, and Earl nods, then pauses as he drags his meaty palm down his face.

"I… overheard something tonight," he whispers, his gaze fixed on me. "Something I know I wasn't supposed to overhear. But Addie…"

I swallow roughly, nodding. "Tell me."

"Someone broke a glass in the dining room, and I was walking past the kitchen to the supply closet, and I overheard… Brent talking to Judge Barrilleaux. I realize I probably shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but when I heard your name, I wanted to know what they were talking about." He pauses, looking at Amos for a moment. When Amos nods, Earl's gaze slides back to me, and he continues speaking. "I overheard them discussing your marriage to the judge's son. He said that Brent better make damn sure you never find out that you're to inherit Ever After when you get married. That it will screw everything up if you find out the bakery is yours if you marry anyone … not just his son."

My breath hitches, and my chest tightens at the revelation. What? I bring my hand to my mouth, covering it as I try to digest what he's saying.

"Addie… he laughed about lying to you about the will. Said your mama left you the bakery—it's yours the moment you turn twenty-five or if you marry."

I'm trying to process what he's saying, and I find myself swaying on my feet, "What? He's… he's lied to me? All this time? I… I— Why? Why would he do that to me? To take the bakery?"

Earl nods, and Amos steps next to him, smoothing his hand in a calming rhythm over his suit-clad arm.

There's no one in my life that I trust more than the people in this room, and if Earl says he heard it, then it's the truth.

"It seems like you inherit the bakery if either of those two things happen, whichever comes first, and I don't know why he's been keeping it from you, pushing you to marry this guy, but he's a snake, Addie. He's just as corrupt as the company that he keeps, and I know something isn't right. He's manipulating you with false information for some selfish purpose. I know it."

I nod. "I believe you, Earl. I know you'd never tell me anything that wasn't true. But… if this is true, then that means… he won't be able to sell the bakery. He won't be able to take it from me…" I pause, trying to process what I'm hearing. "If I get married first , then he'll no longer have a way to control me with it."

I'm shaking as I try to process all of this. As I try to wrap my head around everything that I've found out tonight.

If what he overheard is the truth, then I don't have to marry Dixon to save Ever After. To inherit what's always been mine.

I lift my gaze to the only real family I have standing before me, hot tears falling from my eyes and wetting my cheeks that I hadn't even realized had begun to well in my eyes until they spilled over.

"I don't have to marry Dixon. The bakery can be mine if I marry anyone ."

Amos winces slightly, nodding. "Or… wait until you turn twenty-five."

Unease tugs at the base of my spine, unfurling through my limbs as I remember the other part of all of this. The most important part. "But that only solves one of our problems. If the bakery is going under, then we don't have until then. We have to do something now. Marrying him is still the only way to get the money we need to save it."

"But now we can form a plan. We can figure out how to avoid it now that we know the truth, Addie. Now, he can't threaten to take it from you if you don't cooperate," Amos adds with a soft, hopeful smile on his lips.

He's right.

This gives me hope. It gives me the Hail Mary I had been desperately wishing for.

Now, I just have to figure out what to do from here.