The emerald silk felt like cold water against my skin as I pulled the zipper up. I looked in the vanity mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. The diamonds at my throat felt like a collar—beautiful, expensive, and heavy with the weight of my signature.
I walked back into the main gallery just as the elevator chattered open. A woman stepped out, draped in Chanel and smelling of vintage rose perfume. This was Eleanor Thorne, the matriarch of the empire, and her eyes were like twin surgical lasers.
"Adrian," she said, her voice a polished blade. "I expected a press release, not a rumor from my hairdresser."
Adrian stepped forward, his hand sliding possessively—yet firmly—around my waist. The heat of his palm through the thin silk made my breath hitch. "Mother, I believe in moving quickly when I find what I want. This is Mia."
I offered a practiced smile, the kind I'd used to calm difficult patients in the hospital wards back in West Bengal. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Thorne. Adrian has told me... so much about your influence on the foundation."
Eleanor didn't smile. She walked a slow circle around me, her gaze lingering on my shoes, then my hair, then finally my eyes. "A nurse? From a background of 'modest means,' the tabloids say. My son usually prefers women with a bit more... pedigree. Or at least a trust fund."
"Pedigree is for horses, Mother," Adrian said, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. Was it support, or a warning? "Mia has a spine. That's more than I can say for the debutantes you usually push my way."
"We shall see," Eleanor countered, turning her back to me to face her son. "The Charity Gala is tomorrow night. The press will be looking for a crack in this sudden 'romance.' If she trips, Adrian, it's your reputation—and your seat at the head of the table—that falls with her."
She left as quickly as she arrived, leaving a trail of rose scent and suffocating pressure in her wake.
Adrian dropped his hand from my waist instantly. The warmth vanished, replaced by the chill of the air conditioning. "You did well. But tomorrow is the real test. My mother is easy; the board of directors is not."
I looked down at the diamonds. "Is this all I am to you? A shield against your board?"
Adrian walked toward his office, not looking back. "You're a ten-million-dollar investment, Mia. Don't make me regret the purchase."