Chapter 2

At seven in the evening, Austin arrived right on time to pick me up.

He had changed into a dark gray suit; the tie he wore was the one I had tied for him myself this morning.

The moment I got into the car, he leaned over and pressed a kiss against my forehead.

"Why are your hands so cold?"

He took my hand, his brow slightly furrowing with genuine concern in his eyes. "Did you keep the AC too low in the study?"

If I hadn't heard that recording,

I would have undoubtedly believed I was the happiest woman in the world right now.

I pulled my hand back, pretending to smooth down my skirt. "Maybe I'm just hungry."

Austin didn't suspect a thing. Smiling, he started the engine. "Let's hurry then. Can't let my bride starve."

The restaurant was booked on the penthouse floor,

offering a panoramic view of the entire city's night skyline.

While cutting my steak, I spoke up as if casually, "Austin."

"Hmm?" He swapped his neatly sliced steak with mine, the motion seamless and natural.

"I ran into Leo Shaw today."

I looked straight into his eyes, not letting a single flicker of expression slip past me. "He asked if I was nervous."

Leo Shaw was Austin's childhood buddy—the very one in the car who wondered if I'd cling to Austin.

Austin's hand paused as he cut the meat.

Just for a split second, so fleeting it was barely perceptible.

Then he looked up, his smile completely flawless. "That guy has no filter. Ignore him. All you need to do is look gorgeous."

"He also mentioned..."

I tightened my grip on the cutlery, my fingertips pressing hard. "...that Julian Rivers returned to the country recently, and asked if things would be awkward for you."

"Shannon."

Austin put down his knife and fork, reaching across to cover the back of my hand.

His palm was warm, but his tone carried an unquestionable resolve.

"Why bring him up? Like I said, we're getting married. The past is in the past."

He gazed at me, his eyes brimming with enough devotion to drown in. "I only want you."

If that recording weren't sitting in my cloud drive, I would have fallen for it all over again.

"Yeah, it's in the past."

I lowered my gaze, spearing a piece of beef and popping it into my mouth.

Medium rare, still tinged with pink blood.

Even though it was top-grade Wagyu, it tasted like cardboard in my mouth.

"Oh, right."

As if suddenly remembering something, Austin produced an exquisite velvet box and slid it toward me.

"Almost forgot. Here's an early wedding gift for you."

I opened it.

It was a sapphire necklace, deep in hue and clearly exorbitant.

"Do you like it?" he asked, looking at me expectantly.

Staring at that deep blue, I suddenly remembered a post Chloe Vance made on her social feed last month:

[I'm totally in love with this deep blue, but Austin said it doesn't suit me.]

So, it was only because it didn't suit her that it ended up with me.

Or perhaps he had bought two, and this was the leftover?

"I love it."

Snapping the box shut, I offered him a slight smile. "It must've been very expensive."

"Whatever I spend on you, it's worth every penny."

Austin ruffled my hair, his eyes brimming with tenderness.

I excused myself to the restroom to touch up my makeup.

Standing in front of the sink, I looked at the exquisitely made-up woman in the mirror and forced a smile that looked uglier than weeping.

Since you want to put on a show of true love, let me give you a hand.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the immigration agency.

The call connected quickly.

"Ms. Vance, have you made up your mind?"

Looking at myself in the mirror, my voice was terrifyingly calm:

"Reschedule my flight."

"To when?"

"The morning of the wedding, ten o'clock."

Hanging up, I reapplied my lipstick. Staring at that crimson shade, my heart hardened inch by inch.

Austin Miller.

I'll be sure to remember this last supper of ours.

When I returned to the table, Austin was typing a reply on his phone.

Seeing me, he quickly locked the screen, smiled, and stood up. "Let's go home."

I looped my arm through his, feeling his muscles tense for a fraction of a second.

"Okay, let's go home."