Page 53 of Lured By Shadows

I could picture it vividly. The soft white astilbe against the creamy dahlias, the darker anemones breaking through everything cleanly, and the ranunculus spilling over the arrangement in a way that felt effortless and romantic. The image formed so clearly in my head that I didn’t realize I’d spoken until everyone turned toward me.

“That bouquet is gonna be… so beautiful,” I murmured.

Culver, lounging back with a glint of amusement in his eyes, lifted a brow as if I’d wandered somewhere hazardous.

“I—sorry,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Anna’s smirk widened, her gaze drifting lazily between me and her brother before settling back on me. “Do you like weddings, delicate flower?” she teased.

I cleared my throat, shifting slightly in my chair. “Yes,” I admitted, quieter this time. “I do enjoy a good wedding. I’d say I’m… well-acquainted with the subject.”

The words felt strangely vulnerable once spoken aloud. I leaned back slightly, wishing I could gather them up and shove them back into my mouth.

Eunice’s expression softened. “Nothing to be ashamed of at all, dear,” she said warmly. “In fact, Anna has been struggling with the exterior palette. Perhaps you could help her decide?”

Excitement tugged at me instantly, stronger than I expected. Anna clasped her hands together dramatically. “Oh, would you? Please, Ira. I’ve been stuck on the exterior colors for over a month. I could really use fresh eyes. Yours, specifically.”

I blinked, stunned, then licked my lips while excitement bubbled up. The chance to dive into something creative with her tugged at me in a way that felt unexpectedly comforting amid all the uncertainty.

“I—really? I’d love to,” I said, my voice pitching slightly higher before I steadied it again. “When do we start?”

Anna laughed softly, clearly entertained by my reaction. “We leave for a family trip tomorrow, but when we return, we can sit down for tea and plan it properly. How does that sound, Liam?”

She turned to him, and he nodded easily, having watched the entire exchange with composed interest.

“It sounds wonderful,” Liam said smoothly. “Thank you for helping, Ira.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I laughed, shifting in my chair. “But I promise I’ll try to be helpful.”

My gaze flicked toward Culver, who looked quietly amused by how invested I was becoming. Despite everything tangled between us, warmth still spread beneath my skin at the sight of him watching me that way.

I was going to help plan a real wedding, and the thought settled over me in a way that felt almost unreal. If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.

I leaned back into the high-backed chair, its plush cushion doing little to ease the tension still coiled inside me. My gaze drifted toward my mother, already deep in conversation with Julius, her posture composed and professional as though she hadn’t detonated my entire sense of reality less than an hour ago. She nodded politely as he spoke, murmuring affirmations in the smooth, refined tone she used while negotiating contracts or smoothing over egos.

I tuned it out quickly, my attention dropping to my empty plate as hunger twisted in my stomach. Where was the food? At this point, I would’ve committed crimes for mozzarella sticks. I’d half expected hors d’oeuvres by now, or at least something small to steady me, but instead I was left sitting in my own head balancing nerves, betrayal, and an embarrassing amount of excitement over flower palettes.

Just as my thoughts threatened to spiral again, a low voice brushed against my ear.

“You like weddings?” he whispered.

I didn’t need to turn to know it was Culver. His voice had etched itself somewhere deep in my nervous system. I puffed my cheeks in annoyance at how easily he unraveled my sense of resolve.

“Yeah,” I muttered, shifting slightly in my seat. “I do.”

I reminded myself sharply, like a mantra I needed just to survive the evening.

He doesn’t care about you.

You’re just another piece on his father’s board. Another pawn dropped into a polished empire and expected to smile.

I exhaled in frustration and turned my face away from him, shaking off the lingering buzz in my ear. Enough. I had to lock this down. I wasn’t letting myself melt every time he spoke or looked at me. Culver Scarbrough no longer got that sort of access.

I was building a wall around myself. Cold. Solid. Untouchable. And preferably lined with barbed wire for good measure.

Of course, he didn’t stop.

“What would your wedding look like, I wonder,” he added quietly, and despite how softly it was spoken, it carried the unmistakable sense that he genuinely wanted to know.