[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.
Sinclair was dressed impeccably in a white tuxedo adorned with gold trimmings, an elegant yet restrained design that spoke volumes about his taste. Enjoy new stories from empire
He wore only a single, lavish brooch, and on his wrist glinted a rare Breguet Grande—a masterpiece of a watch, the kind that whispered wealth rather than flaunting it.
Everything about his attire hinted at subtle power, down to the carefully selected limited-edition details.
Even Sebastian was dressed to match Sinclair's sophisticated style. He wore a custom-made, white tuxedo that hugged his frame just right, adorned with gold accents that complemented the brooch clasped near his collar.
The gleaming accessory wasn't just any brooch—it was a carefully chosen piece designed to accentuate the elegance that Élysée Luxe demanded.
Sebastian looked regal, his coat polished to a shine, and there was something especially heartwarming in seeing him back to full strength.
Sebastian trotted to my side, a little quicker than usual, pressing close but with a surprising gentleness. His usual eagerness to jump up was absent, replaced instead by a soft whimper as he glanced over my shoulder as if seeking protection.
Following his gaze, I caught sight of Cole—standing a few paces behind, arms crossed, his face hard as granite, eyes narrowed in a silent glare at Sebastian.
The moment our eyes met, though, Cole quickly looked away, his expression shifting to something more indifferent.
I frowned, realizing that Sebastian never seemed to jump up on me when Cole was around.
Was Cole intimidating him, keeping him at bay? I didn't know what to feel about it.
Casting a pointed glare at Cole, I bent down to pat Sebastian, then gently guided him over to Sinclair.
Next to Sinclair, I noticed Victor, who softened visibly when he saw me. His smile was warm, though his gaze turned icy again when it shifted to Cole.
Sinclair, already impatient, muttered under his breath, "Those sons of mine are late . . . as always."
Before I could respond, the photographer interjected. "We can take a few individual shots while we wait."
But just then, Sullivan, Sophia, and Sophie entered, each one dressed as if they'd stepped straight out of a gilded portrait.
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.