My Dark Desire: Chapter 39

The mansion had transformed into a Disney castle.

White and creamy string lights draped the army of red maple trees leading up to the manor. Columns of red and gold flowers bracketed the double entry doors.

In the foyer, white roses stretched across an entire wall for guests to take photos in front of. Swag bags lined up at the entrance like toy soldiers, secured by crisp velvet bows.

In the ballroom, round tables framed the dance floor while LED balloons covered the tall ceiling in its entirety, lighting the room up from within.

I’d stepped into a fairytale.

A fairytale I, as usual, wasn’t invited to.

I wondered what the occasion was. Hopefully Zach’s belated emancipation from his overbearing mother. Though I didn’t count on it.

Guilt was the only emotion he was capable of feeling. Cutting the cord would be admitting to himself that he was dead inside.

The good news—and there wasn’t much of it—was that I was off-duty.

I’d managed to steal a box of white-and-red macarons before making my way upstairs to the guest room. My own private birthday gift for myself.

I locked the door behind me, launched myself on the pillows, and cranked the music all the way up, listening to “Water” by Tyla.

Even through my cheap earbuds, I managed to hear everything outside. Cars pulling up at the entrance. Valets. Champagne glasses clinking together. The indulgent laughter of people who didn’t know how to pay their own bills. The live band. The hustle and bustle of point-one-percenters enjoying themselves.

I lay in a bed that wasn’t mine and stared at the ceiling, stewing in my own anger. This time, I’d chosen the furthest guest room from the stairs, not the one I usually occupied, hoping the sound of other people’s happiness wouldn’t reach me.

But it did.

It did, and it seared my soul.

Alone, alone, alone.

Everything reminded me of that simple fact.

Here was the thing about loneliness—there’s no such thing as a loner. Only someone who has tried to give others a chance and ended up thoroughly disappointed.

Burrowing deeper under the covers, I grabbed my phone and started watching old YouTube videos of my fencing matches. Mainly to spot Dad in the first row, cheering me on.

Andras always urged me to study my weaknesses. That my path to the Olympics required discipline and humility.

I still didn’t know if I’d ever make it.

It seemed unlikely, considering my past.

Yet, fencing made me truly happy. I would hate to let Andras down. Plus, the only time my mind shut off was on the piste.

And while getting impaled by a broody billionaire in a sauna.

A soft knock rapped on the door. I shot upright, the duvet rolling down my lap.

Maybe I hadn’t heard right? Why would Zach seek me out in the middle of his party?

I stared at the door.

The knock sounded again, this time louder.

I cleared my throat. “Yes?”

A sweet, feminine voice seeped through the door. “Farrow?”

Dallas Costa.

“Yeah.”

“Can I come in?”

Why?

“Sure…?”

The door crept open. Dallas waddled in, about a hundred centuries pregnant, clad in a shimmery gold A-line dress with a sweetheart neckline.

Her boobs were out of control. I doubted even the US military could wrestle them into submission.

She used what appeared to be a forty-thousand-dollar check to fan her face.

“Thank God, I found you.” With her other hand, she shoved a tray full of enough food to feed the entire neighborhood my way, cannonballing onto the bed beside me. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I went through every single guest room. How many are there here?”

“Thirteen.” And I’d slacked off on cleaning each and every one of them today. “Plus, a dumbwaiter leading to a secret cellar. I don’t clean that one, though. Can’t run the risk of finding the remains of people Zach has killed for mispronouncing Latin words or miscalculating his tax returns.”

“Oh, he does his own tax returns.” She waved a hand. “It’s like a hobby for him. A way to unwind. Kind of like sudoku or six-thousand-piece jigsaw puzzles.”

I studied her with a tilt of my head, still confused. “Why are you here?”

Translation: If someone made a mess downstairs that needs urgent cleaning, I might strangle them.

I was off-duty. It was almost eight-thirty.

“What do you mean, why? Isn’t it obvious?” She treated herself to a sponge cake off the tray, her light eyes twinkling with warmth. “Everyone else downstairs is a total bore.”

I bit down a smile.

I really liked Dallas, even if I felt like I shouldn’t.

Everyone in town knew she’d grown up rich. That she spent summers in Europe, waltzed at balls in Georgia, and rubbed elbows with people whose annual tax returns I couldn’t count the zeros on.

She had every opportunity to be exactly like Tabby and Reggie—a rich, spoiled brat. We shared nothing in common—no mutual interests, friends, likes, and dislikes.

And yet, I knew a loyal friend when I stumbled upon one.

Dallas reached for a donut hole, popping it inside her mouth. “The way you answered that dudebro at dinner the other day? Legendary. Finding women with a spine on this side of the river is hard. It’s like Air Force One flew by and sucked the personality out of everyone.”

“Thanks.” I regarded her with interest, still puzzled, and pointed at the tray at my hip. “Is this for me?”

Dallas released a joyous, addictive laugh. “Oh, yes.”

I admired the rays of sunshine emanating from her.

She struck me as the kind of person who could burn down the entire place if you rubbed her the wrong way, but also light up a room.

I dug her vibe.

She snuck another pastry. “I figured I’d make you a sample platter with all the stuff worthy of eating. I took it upon myself to test everything first. True friend, or what?”

“Total bestie,” I murmured.

“I’m a ride-or-die kind of chick.” She grabbed her tiny Hermès purse and tugged something out of it. “Hey, I made us those friendship bracelets.” A small plastic bag landed on my lap. She dangled an identical one, the beaded circle waving as she jiggled it. “No judgment, please. Being heavily pregnant is super boring. I had to cancel bungee jumping in New Zealand last week. Can you believe how overprotective Rom is?”

A small smile played on my lips. “Unheard of.”

I couldn’t believe she’d made me laugh on a day I felt so freaking sorry for myself.

When I didn’t make a move, she snatched the bag from me, pulled out the purple-green Swiftie bracelet (she’d remembered our conversation), and slid it up my wrist, thrusting hers beside me.

They matched. Our names winked back at us from cheap plastic beads. It looked ridiculous among her otherwise head-to-toe luxury brands.

I snatched a spam musubi, unwrapping the film. “What are you having?”

“Probably the steak and fries.” She heaved a sigh. “I mean, the sushi downstairs looks so good, it should be downright illegal, but I can’t eat raw fish right now.”

“I’m talking about your pregnancy.”

“Oh. A girl, I hope. I’m willing it into the universe.” Dallas’ face lit up. “Rom says he’s worried about being outnumbered. But I say he’s always been outnumbered. I have multiple personalities, depending on my mood and what time of the month it is.”

“You’re going to make an amazing mother.”

I meant it.

“I’m going to try my best.” She smiled. “If there’s one thing I learned from my own mother, it’s that you need to teach your daughter to be powerful enough to protect herself.”

A lick of longing tugged at my belly.

I wished I had a mother. A real one. Not one that abandoned me. Or one that spent my entire life trying to kick me out.

I tilted my head, toying with my next words. “Have you noticed something about the moms here…?”

“Here as in this household, this city, this state…?”

“Here as in around us.”

Not that there was an us, but Dallas felt like an actual friend. I couldn’t help but latch on to her warmth.

“Hmm…” She tapped her lip, pausing. “I actually don’t know much about Oliver’s mom, but Romeo’s leaves much to be de sired. He mostly calls Constance his mom.”

“Constance?” My jaw dropped. “As in, Zach’s Constance?”

She grinned, nodding. “I know. It seems impossible, but Romeo said she wasn’t always like this. That the Constance he remembered used to be warm. She packed him lunch every day because she didn’t want him to eat junk, picked him up from school with Zach, and personally taught him math, which she once lectured at the collegiate level.”

“Constance Sun,” I repeated.

“That’s the one.” Dallas traced circles on her belly. “Rom told me that, after her husband died, she became a zombie. When she finally snapped out of it, she transformed into a different person. Rigid. Full of rules. Humorless. Rom thinks Constance is afraid that, if everything isn’t perfect, something bad will happen again.”

I lay on the pillow, considering Dallas’ words. Losing someone tragically didn’t excuse bad behavior, but it did explain it.

Grief rewired your brain. The quiet moments became the loudest ones. The only way to shut it off was to make your life louder than your mind.

I, of all people, could attest to that.

Which gave me no right to judge.

And still, I couldn’t help but resent her for the way she made her son suffer. Even if he constantly made me suffer.

I nibbled on a corner of cieple lody without really tasting it, though it must’ve tasted good because Dallas’ eyes rolled to the back of her head.

She nudged my arm, wiping crumbs off her chin. “Hey, what’s eating at you? You were a complete firecracker the first time I met you. You look… down.”

“Everything’s fine.”

Was I convincing her or myself?

“Try again.” Dallas snorted. “In this friendship, we only do honesty.”

“It’s my birthday today,” I admitted.

“What?” She paled, jumping up to her feet in an instant. Well, as fast as she could with an entire human in her belly. “Are you kidding me? What are you doing here? We should be celebrating.”

“There’s nothing much to celebrate.” I stared at the desserts, swallowing saliva. “I don’t have any family, and all my friends are in Korea.

”

“Not all of them.” Dallas opened the closet, saw that it was empty, and shut it. “I’m here, and I have some gorgeous clothes to lend to you for an unforgettable night. All you have to do is say yes.”

“No.”

“The music downstairs is amazing. The food is divine. Besides, no one will recognize you. And I won’t leave your side at all.”

“The answer is still no.”

“Oh, come on, Farrow.” She bent her knees, pressing her palms together, begging. “You can’t deny me. I’m pregnant and vulnerable. What if my water breaks early because of you? You’d have to move to another planet to hide from my husband, and then we can’t binge eat our way through Earth together.”

I couldn’t afford to binge eat my way through Earth, both financially and practically if I expected to win any gold medals in this lifetime.

Dallas began panting, listing all the ways her husband and his friends tracked their enemies. She was relentless. No wonder she wore Romeo Costa down.

The woman could overthrow entire regimes with one tantrum.

“Do you want that?” She didn’t wait for me to answer, patting my shoulder. “You just stay here, okay?”

I wanted to say no. To tell her that I was beyond repair. But if Zach could find it in himself to push through and make a change… then, maybe I could, too.

“Okay.” I forced a smile. “I’ll wait.”