Chapter Seventy-Nine

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Marco was waiting for me in the exact same spot he dropped me at this morning

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Marco was waiting for me in the exact same spot he dropped me at this morning. I don't think he left. I said goodbye to Layla and settled in the backseat as the car's engine came to life. Marco kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror as if he was expecting me to talk incessantly like I used to do before.

I wasn't feeling like it anymore. I used to feel happy and so damn lucky for everything Nikolai did for me before but now; with him behaving the way he is doing, everything feels wrong. I feel like I have married a complete stranger and we never knew each other and now here we are bound in a loveless marriage.

Everything felt like a lie.

"Evangeline, we're here" Marco announced.

I looked to my side and saw the front door. I mumbled a quick thanks and stepped out of the car, heading inside.

I went straight upstairs and changed into some comfortable clothes. I sat on the bed and pulled my books out of the bag and started studying. I wanted to busy myself, I wanted to ignore all these stupid emotions that I was feeling, and the best way to distract myself from all of it was to study and put my mind to good use.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand and I picked it up to see a text from Nikolai. I immediately opened it, and the glimmer of hope died down when I read the text. I thought he wanted to finally talk to me.

╭───────────────╮
   Nik:
  Be ready by eight.
╰───────────────╯

A sardonic laugh escaped my lips as I threw my phone on the bed. So much for pretending that Nikolai didn't exist. I couldn't even get him out of my mind for a mere second.

A dress, heels, and jewelry was delivered to my room. I showered up and wore the light blue gown and the jewelry, did my make-up, and waited for Nikolai to call me downstairs.

I have no idea how this dinner will go with us acting the way we are. Nikolai refuses to talk to me because of something stupid I said in a rage fit. I actually thought he was more mature than that.

It was almost seven-thirty when the door knocked, I went outside, and the maid smiled as she saw me all dressed up. We went downstairs and Nikolai was sitting on the living room couch in a black tuxedo, he was using his cell phone. Black was his color and he knew that he looked amazing in all black, it contrasted with his skin perfectly.

From the clicking of my heels, he knew that I was here but he didn't care enough to notice. He ran a hand down his tie and got up from the couch.

"Come on," he ordered, without even looking at me and walking out of the house.

Of course, he didn't care to look. Why would he? I'm not anything special. Get off your high horse, Evangeline, you're not that special—those were his words. I don't think I'll ever forget those words ever again. 

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