Page 121 of Before Dawn

Her smile softened, and for a moment, I thought she might cry. Instead, she turned her attention to the racks of dresses, expertly browsing through them while I started on my makeup.

The next hour flew by in a blur of brushes, palettes, and last-minute touch-ups. By the time I slipped into my dress, Azzaria was trying to settle on a hairstyle.

“You lookhot,” she said a little later, her voice full of approval. “The girls are sitting just right in that dress.”

I smoothed the fabric over my hips, grinning at my reflection. The dress hugged me in all the right places and perfectly matched my fresh nail set.

Mikkel’s gonna love this.

“Marlon’s waiting downstairs in a silver BMW with ‘X’s on the license plate to take you to the gala.”

“Did you just say he has ‘X’ on the plate?” I chuckled nervously.

She laughed. “Yep.”

“The things rich men do,” I joked in return.

“Imagine when you meet the rest of the group later tonight,” she teased.

After giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.

Sure enough, parked on the curb was the silver BMW with ‘X’s on the plate.

Well, shit.

Here’s to my first gala.

Chapter Twenty-six

Mikkel

“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.”

~ James Baldwin

Ihadn’t heard much from Abigail since this morning, and it had been eating at me all day. The silence gnawed at the edges of my thoughts, a constant reminder of the unease I couldn’t shake. I kept wondering if I’d pressured her into coming or, worse, if the invitation had scared her off completely.

Even before that, the last few days had been restless. I couldn’t stop replaying what I’d told her at the beach, questioning whether it changed how she saw me or if it would put a strain on our relationship.

I’d texted her seven times already, but there was no response—a silence that wasn’t like her. I almost asked Azzaria if she’d heard from her, but she and Dillon were preoccupied in the backseat, lost in their own world. Interrupting them didn’t feel like anoption.

The gala was in full swing when I arrived in an all-white Brioni tuxedo, paired with a black bow tie and polished leather shoes. I moved through the crowd, shaking hands with donors and posing for photos under the blinding flash of cameras. I’d forgotten how much I hated all of this—the forced smiles, the empty pleasantries. My thoughts were miles away, glancing at my phone for a reply from Abigail that never came.

Finally breaking free of the small talk and photo ops, I decided to leave. A Chipotle bowl, flowers, and chocolate cake might cheer her up, or at least give me a reason to check on her.

As my hand reached for the door, I spotted her, and every coherent thought vanished. The air thickened, and I couldn’t breathe. She was pure elegance,a force of nature, seizing every part of my mind. Nothing else mattered—she consumed me completely.

The deep green dress she wore hugged her like it was made just for her, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It was as if the color had been chosen to make her skin glow, and every step she took left me in awe. Her collarbones were exposed, and the neckline framed her so perfectly, offering just enough of a glimpse to make my heart race.

But it wasn’t just the dress. It washer, the way her green eyes sparkled with excitement, as if daring me to get lost in them. She was a goddess, and I was just a man lucky enough to breathe the same air as her. I felt like the world stopped spinning the moment our eyes met. And her hair, styled in an updo with loose strands softly framing her face was nothing short of perfect.

She looked like a poem the universe wrote to keep me alive.

Our eyes locked, and I immediately closed the distance between us, drawn to her like a magnet.

“Your beauty is unrivaled, baby,” I whispered, my hand gently cupping her cheek, careful not to ruin her flawless makeup.

“And you’re incredibly handsome,” she replied softly. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

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