[EVE]
I took one last look in the mirror, ensuring I looked the part for the photo-shoot. My outfit was understated—polished enough for Élysée Luxe but reserved.
After all, I wasn't a Rosette by blood, so there was no need to outshine the real heiress.
Maybe the magazine wouldn't focus on me too much; I was merely adopted in the Rosette world.
Satisfied with my appearance, I turned and headed out.
The first thing I noticed was Cole waiting by the door. Disguised behind a mask, sunglasses, and a cap, he was almost unrecognizable, his tall frame and silent presence the only clues.
I was relieved he'd chosen to keep his face hidden, probably not wanting Sullivan or Sophia to recognize him as my "
bodyguard
."
Or, rather, my temporary bodyguard. I was still determined to replace him as soon as I found someone available.
I shot him a brief, irritated glance, suspecting he'd played a part in my current lack of security options, but he seemed too preoccupied to notice.
A tension radiated from him—anger, maybe? But over what?
I shook off my curiosity. Whatever his problem was, it wasn't any of my business.
Cole followed me silently as we made our way to the photoshoot location, set up in the vast lobby of the mansion.
Already, the room was alive with activity: assistants adjusting lights, setting up green screens, and positioning props. The center backdrop was anchored by a plush couch, a stately piece chosen to complement the luxurious theme.
Waiting on one of the couches was Sinclair, alongside Sebastian.
Sullivan wore a lavish white tuxedo that mirrored Sinclair's in color but was far more extravagant. The lapels were embroidered in gold thread, and several pieces of ornate jewelry gleamed on his fingers, neck, and cuffs, catching the light at every turn.
Sophia, not to be outdone, was draped in a gown of pure white satin that cascaded down her form like liquid silver, adorned with delicate gold embroidery around the bodice and hem.
The dress shimmered under the lights, accented by an array of glittering diamonds and a single, extravagant necklace that added a cold brilliance to her appearance. Every inch of her spoke of wealth and control, her gaze cool and assessing as it fell upon me.
Then there was Sophie, a miniature version of her mother, in a white gown so elaborate it seemed to swallow her delicate form.
Embellished with pearls and crystals, the dress sparkled with an almost blinding opulence, and a diamond tiara crowned her hair, lending her the air of a doll in a porcelain case.
In that moment, the room felt thick with the silent tension between these dazzling yet distant family members.
They exuded the elegance of royalty, making me look like a mere commoner standing beside them.
Yet, like I'd anticipated, they wasted no time in turning this grand occasion into an opportunity to disparage me.
"Father, what is this?" Sullivan's voice was laced with disdain, his gaze darting between me and Sinclair. "This photoshoot is a chance to elevate our family's prestige in society, yet you bring . . . a non-blood? Are you truly intent on dragging our family name through the mud?"
Sophia, her tone almost mournful, joined in, speaking as though she were announcing the gravest of news. "Father, we haven't yet recovered from the embarrassment you brought upon us during Sophie's birthday. Now this—an outsider in our family portrait? What will people say when they see Eve standing beside us, a Rosette in name only?"
The photographer and the Élysée Luxe crew exchanged uneasy glances, caught off guard by the sudden family drama.
Sinclair's face hardened, his cane thudding against the marble floor with a sharp crack that silenced even the murmurs of the crew around us. "I have officially adopted Eve into this family, and as such, she is a
Rosette
. She will participate in this photoshoot, and that is final."
Sullivan's face flushed a deep red, realizing his attempt to sway his father had failed. He turned on me, his eyes flashing with anger. "Are you happy now, Eve? Enjoying tearing this family apart?"
Of course, it was always somehow my fault. Apparently, just breathing was enough to make me the villain.