Page 72 of Dark Rebel's Fortune

She chuckled. "As if that could ever happen. I just want closure. Besides, he's married, right?"

"That never stopped any human from lusting after another woman, and I'm not about to let him lust after you. You are going to wear that fat suit when you meet him."

She cast him a glare that would have terrified most men. "Don't even joke about it. I come from a place where women are considered evil temptations and men place the burden of their own desires on them, forcing them to cover themselves from head to toe."

"I'm sorry," he said solemnly. "I keep forgetting you came from Iran and that you had to live with the restrictions and the oppression and fight for your rights."

She let out a breath. "I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I just hope to never even look at that fat suit again."

36

FENELLA

As the elevator doors slid open, they were greeted by an enthusiastic blonde woman with a body that looked like it had been specifically designed to make other women feel inadequate. She was dressed in a tailored skirt suit that hugged every curve, balanced on sky-high heels that should have been impossible to walk in, and her hair was styled into a perfectly sleek French twist.

"Welcome, welcome to the village!" she trilled, her voice carrying across the underground garage with theatrical projection. "I'm Ingrid, the clan's interior designer and housing coordinator."

Fenella instantly disliked her. Anyone that well put together and cheerful had to be hiding something sinister beneath their glossy exterior.

"I'm so sorry the full welcome committee couldn't be here," Ingrid continued, managing to sound both apologetic and thrilled at once. "We'll have a properreception when the rest of the family arrives. So much excitement! New residents are such a treat!"

Jasmine stepped forward, extending her hand. "Thank you for meeting us, Ingrid. The girls are so excited to see the village and check out potential residences."

"Of course they are!" Ingrid took Jasmine's hand in both of hers. "And I have some absolutely perfect options for you. But first, introductions are in order." She turned to Fenella. "You must be Fenella." Ingrid offered her hand.

"Nice to meet you." Fenella shook it, surprised by the strength of Ingrid's grip, before reminding herself that everyone in the village was immortal and just as strong as she was.

The female moved to shake the girls' hands, addressing each one by name, which meant that she'd prepared ahead of time, and that made Fenella dislike her a little less.

People who were willing to put in the work deserved credit.

"Shall we begin with the tour?" Ingrid pressed the button for the elevator with a finger that was topped by a very long, elaborately decorated nail.

The designer noticed her looking, smiled and offered a better view of her fingernail. "I've had them done today." She cast a sidelong glance at Jasmine. "Angelica did them for me. Aren't they fabulous?"

"They are," Jasmine agreed just as the elevator doors opened.

Fenella detected a note of something there, wondering who Angelica was.

"This lift will take us directly to the glass pavilion," Ingrid explained as they stepped inside.

The elevator was spacious and silent, rising so smoothly that Fenella barely felt the movement. When the doors opened, they stepped into what could only be described as a glass jewel box perched on a mountaintop.

"Bloody hell," Fenella muttered under her breath.

The pavilion was made completely out of glass, offering views of the village beyond that were steeped in greenery. The morning sunlight streamed in, making the polished stone floor gleam like water.

"Wow," Laleh breathed. "It's beautiful!"

Along the perimeter of the space, illuminated glass cases displayed an array of artifacts—ancient-looking pottery, stone tools, fragments of what appeared to be clay tablets and several statues of different sizes.

Arezoo approached one of the displays, peering at a clay tablet covered in hieroglyphs. "What are these?"

Ingrid walked over to her in her impossible heels. "One of our residents is an amateur archaeologist. These are some of his finds from digs. He has so many of them and it would be a shame to keep this treasure in storage accumulating dust, so we've turned this space into a private museum for our village. The displays are changed every couple ofmonths, so it never gets old." She chuckled. "Well, older than it already is."

"Are those real?" Donya asked, pressing her nose against the glass case containing a necklace made of lapis lazuli.

"Very real and very valuable," Ingrid confirmed. "Some pieces date back thousands of years."

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