Page 218 of Chandelier Enthralled
I wore it, as instructed by him in the note he had left for me.
He had departed the mansion before my arrival.
The dress clung to my form with an intimacy that felt almost indecent, and I knew he would be captivated with the way it looked on me. My hair tumbled in spirals over my shoulders, flowing like dark silk. My jewelry was exquisite, but not gaudy—so very me.
I felt alight with a sense of adventure from his enticing invitation.
A limo soon picked me up and I was driven to a sprawling mansion perched high on a canyon.
I entered the opulent manor known as Chrysalis, where the dress code whispered of secrets, of rituals and glamour, and I was deliciously intrigued, as he knew I would be.
Two days ago, we had landed back on American soil, having altered the course of history at Mont-Saint-Michel. That experience still clung to us; a life-altering ordeal that had seen a modern-day monster’s reign come to an end. Jewel Hadley had been claimed by the tide.
It was over.
All the bloodshed she had wrought was now replaced with a certainty she would never hurt anyone again. Her violent death was cause for rejoicing for some—but for most, her name would soon be forgotten. That carried its own kind of justice.
But I didn’t want to think of her now—or what we had all faced in France. Or that I had almost lost the man I had fallen for, deeper than I had ever believed possible.
Tonight, my thoughts were my own—and they were only of him.
Above me, suspended like a constellation, hung the most majestic chandelier I had ever seen, its crystal droplets shimmering. Each crystal held a secret of its own, refracting light in iridescent hues, casting a radiant glow over every corner of the foyer.
The chandelier, delicate and unyielding in its beauty, was a reminder to visitors that they, too, could shine with quiet strength.
The dreamy entrance hall was deserted, its marble floors gleaming.
A grand central staircase rose like an invitation to another time. This private club was steeped in opulence, and every inch of this space bore the unmistakable signature of my brother. Cameron had founded this secret society several years ago, and from what I could tell, still had influence here.
I understood how it could captivate so many, how it wrapped itself around the weary and broken, offering a refuge like salvation itself.
I belonged here, too.
Cherry blossom petals were strewn at my feet, and I followed the aromatic trail that led off to the right side of the staircase…toward a door.
I headed out into a sprawling and well-tended flower garden, soothed by the warm breeze on my skin, and continued along a neat pathway, following the scattering of blossoms.
Two peacocks wandered by me, barely giving me a passing look, their vibrant plumage shimmering in the moonlight. One of them spread their tail wide, showing off striking shades of indigo and turquoise. Together, they moved away in perfect harmony.
I looked up and saw Cameron walking toward me.
“Hi,” I said, surprised to see him, and a little confused.
“Hey.” With his hands in his pockets, he approached me at a leisurely pace. “What do you think?”
“Of Chrysalis?” I gave him a bright smile. “I love it. It’s not what I imagined.”
“What did you imagine?”
“Not sure. It’s grander and more…everything.”
“Underestimate me at your own risk.” He raised a finger. “And that goes for you, too, apparently.”
“Just doing my bit for journalism.”
“With what happened in Normandy? Good luck with that.”
“Right, who would believe me?”
