**Chapter 7: Dred** “Thank you for transforming this into something presentable.” I gestured to my face as Essie gently dusted my cheeks with setting powder, an artist putting the final touches on her canvas. Flip, sprawled comfortably on my couch, snorted softly. “You don’t need makeup to be pretty, Dred,” he chimed in, his gaze never wavering from the screen of his phone. I glanced at him, catching a glimpse of Dewey, his loyal dog, prancing across Flip’s shoulder and poking his nose into Flip’s ear. The man was unfazed, utterly unbothered by the antics of his companion. Flip may not relish the thought of my marriage, but he was adamant about being part of every intricate detail of the whirlwind surrounding me. “What he said,” Essie declared, wrapping her arms around me in a warm embrace. “You’re stunning. I’ll catch up with you in a couple of hours.” Essie lived just two floors down, a convenient proximity that made it possible for her to lend her talents as my makeup artist. After gathering her things, she floated out the door, leaving me with Lexi and Flip, who still lingered in the living room. “This whole engagement party, this meet-the-family ordeal, is really intense,” I confessed, my heart racing at the thought. Flip nodded solemnly, petting Dewey’s small head. “We’re right here with you every step of the way,” he promised, his voice steady and reassuring. “Thank you,” I replied, appreciating the solidarity. Lexi glanced at the clock mounted above the stove, urgency pulling her brow tight. “We need to get you into your dress. Your car will be here soon.” “Right,” I whispered, my heart pounding louder in my chest. “Let’s get this done.” The engagement party would take place at Connor’s parents’ house. A mansion, I assumed, which filled me with both excitement and trepidation. A part of me wished it were being held at Lucy’s home, where familiarity could wrap around me like a comforting blanket. At least I knew Lucy liked me. Stepping away from the buzzing energy of my friends, I made my way down the hall to my bedroom. The dress lay spread out on my bed, a magnificent creation that had been delivered just the day before, accompanied by shoes, a clutch, and undergarments. How Connor had managed to guess my sizes remained a mystery, but the dress itself was a dream—a beautiful, flowing gown that seemed to whisper elegance. Quickly, I shed my joggers and T-shirt, slipping into the buttery-soft fabric. As I zipped it up, I couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it hugged my curves, accentuating my silhouette in all the right ways. It was my favorite color, which only added to the magic. A moment of self-doubt crept in as I reached for the hair tie on my wrist out of habit. I winced as it snapped back into place, leaving a raw mark on my skin—an all-too-familiar sign of my panic manifesting. During my teenage years, this habit had taken the place of far more dangerous outlets for my anxieties. Usually, I held it in check, but this situation was anything but usual. I was engaged—to a man who felt a cordial indifference toward me, who had proposed an arrangement that came with a hefty price tag: a quarter of a million dollars for each month we were wed. A surreal and utterly messed-up scenario. Frantically, I slid several mismatched bracelets over my wrist to disguise the evidence of my newfound nervousness and returned to the living room. Flip’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Wow, that dress is… You look incredible.” Lexi nodded fervently, her expression radiant. “It looked good on the hanger, but on you? It’s breathtaking.” She performed an exaggerated chef’s-kiss gesture, her excitement palpable. “I can hardly fathom what that dress must have cost,” I admitted, the weight of anxiety settling heavily on my shoulders. “They’re billionaires, Dred. Ten grand for a dress is pocket change to them,” Lexi replied, a rushed, calming tone in her voice. “Do you honestly think it cost that much?” I asked, aghast. “Betty, my old car, is worth half that amount!” “Your car is a trooper,” Flip remarked, returning Dewey to his enclosure, a frown etched on his brow. “She is,” I agreed, glancing toward the window as my nerves bubbled over. “God, I’m so nervous.” Signing that contract had been a dizzying, panic-driven decision bathed in fear—the fear of losing everything. Now, here I was, facing an unknown future shrouded in uncertainty. Sure, Connor had a soft spot for his family, especially Meems and Callie, but the hard truth was he was a man shaped by conflicts, one who thrived on tension and animosity. “It’s in Connor’s best interest to ensure you’re happy and comfortable,” Flip reassured me, his voice full of sincerity. He had no idea of the complexities at play, but I begrudgingly acknowledged the truth behind his words. “He’s certainly making an effort with the dress,” I murmured. “I just wish I felt more prepared.” As if in cue, my phone chimed again. A text from Connor lit up the screen. **Connor:** *The car has arrived for you. It’s a Rolls-Royce, and Cedrick is your driver. He’ll notify me upon your arrival, and I’ll come to greet you. See you soon.* I shot back a thumbs-up emoji, feeling a mix of anticipation and dread, and slipped my phone into my clutch. “It’s go time,” I breathed. “Let’s get you to your engagement party,” Lexi said, her excitement contagious as she and Flip joined me in the elevator to the lobby. Lexi snapped a few photos as we stepped outside into the garden, capturing what felt like a moment suspended in time. “Connor isn’t picking you up himself?” Flip asked, a furrow deepening on his brow. “I would have driven you there had I known.” “Ms. Reformer, it’s delightful to see you again,” Cedrick, the driver, greeted me jovially as he appeared at the car. “Hi, Cedrick! It’s lovely to see you, too!” I replied, returning the warmth of his smile. I introduced him to Flip and Lexi, who responded with nods of acknowledgment. “Mr. Grace’s coach and teammate,” he noted, extending a courteous hand toward me. “Will you be joining Ms. Reformer?” “We’re just her escorts to the car,” Lexi clarified, their vigorous support uplifting my spirit. “I’ll see you both soon,” I hugged them tightly before stepping into the plush interior of the car. As the vehicle rolled away, Flip’s frown lingered, concern etched in every line of his face. Not long into the drive, my phone pinged with another message, sparking curiosity. A quick glance revealed photos shared in our Babe Brigade chat, the excitement bubbling within me as I opened the thread. **Lexi:** *Check out the hot librarian!* **Tally:** *Oooh!!!! You are so pretty in that dress! Cannot wait to see you!* **Hemi:** *So this is happening! You are stunning! Can’t wait, you Rix!* **Shilpa:** *You look incredible.* **Hammer:** *That dress is Ah-mazing!* **Essie:** *I need to know who the designer is!* **Dred:** *It’s not an April Fool’s prank, I promise. At least I don’t look as terrified as I feel.* Though they didn’t know the underlying truth, I found some solace in their enthusiasm. I recalled how hard it had been for Rix during her ordeal with Tristan—it had rattled all of us, Flip especially, whose past demons refused to let him be at peace. Hollis, Hammer, Lexi, and Roman had all faced their trials too, tethered by the inescapable bond of love that seemed inevitable despite everything. I felt a surge of gratitude knowing it was merely Connor’s family and Meems that I had to convince of our supposed infatuation. Lexi’s private message flashed across my screen, instantly anchoring my nerves. **Lexi:** *You’ve got this. Just be yourself, and if they can’t see how amazing you are, screw them.* I wrapped my fingers around my phone, drawing strength from her words. Just then, another message glowing on the screen caught my eye. **Flip:** *Hope Connor knows how lucky he is. I’ve got your back—always, okay?* **Dred:** *I know. And I’ll always have yours.* **Flip:** *Family for life.* How many times had I yearned for a brother like him? So many foster homes filled my memories, more than I could count—twenty-six, to be exact. Each new place had been a trial by fire, letting fear gnaw at my insides as I slipped from one unfamiliar environment to the next. I remembered those first two homes all too vividly, with desperation for love and warmth supplanted only by loneliness that shocked me to the core. I had been conditioned by the haunting fear of abandonment, convinced I would forever cycle through families who treated love like a fleeting commodity—abandoning me when the high of my existence faded. Years passed before I grasped the essence of stability—and by then, I was far gone, fragments of my heart and soul carved out by neglect. Each child entering the foster system carries their unique burdens; they don’t just take kids away without just cause. My journey began when both of my parents had fallen victim to their own demons—overdosing, leaving me alone to navigate a dark world. I pushed those memories aside, shoving them into the background where they couldn't unravel my focusing mind. What if Connor was more like me than I realized? Sure, he appeared to have everything—two parents, a plethora of wealth—but love is not measured in dollar signs. As we drew closer to our destination, I revisited the photos Connor had sent detailing his family members. His parents were Duncan and Courtney, with Duncan being Lucy’s only son. Connor also had two younger sisters—Portia and Isabelle. Both married, one to Bryson and the other to Julian, both worked for Connor’s father at the illustrious Grace Hotels, albeit in lesser roles. Half an hour later, we arrived at Bridle Path—a prestigious neighborhood in Toronto dotted with luxurious mansions. Each property gleamed with manicured lawns and vibrant blooms, every driveway lined with sleek, high-end vehicles. Strikingly, the house we approached wasn’t far from Lucy’s at all. Cedrick guided the Rolls down the serpentine driveway, its grandeur emphasizing the stark difference from Lucy’s enchanting home that felt like a storybook castle. This mansion was all modern lines and clinical aesthetics—a stark contrast that mirrored nothing of the warmth I had longed for. Each glimpse into Connor’s world stripped away layers of his character, painting a portrait of the man behind the enforcer, the fighter on the ice—a man keen on pushing boundaries until those around him cracked like brittle glass. He was adept at eliciting responses, wielding reactions like weapons. But then I remembered the man who had extended a lifeline, a deal to escape the shadows of my existence. Yet post-acceptance, he’d bombarded me with apologies, suggesting the journey I was about to embark on would weigh heavily. What new revelations awaited me today? Cedrick announcing our arrival jolted me from my reverie as he stepped out, ready to assist. Connor, appearing from the house like a beacon, descended the front steps with purposeful ease. The tautness in his shoulders eased as Cedrick opened the door, revealing me in all my finery. Was he worried I might change my mind? The thought sent a thrill through me, my heart picking up its pace as I took him in. Pervasively handsome, dangerously so, he stood impeccably dressed—not in the typical hues of black or navy, but a deep teal, perfectly mirroring his hockey jersey and seamlessly matching my jeweled clutch and shoes. Because of course he would coordinate us. With a graceful motion, he stepped forward and extended his hand—a gesture I couldn’t ignore, despite the way it made my stomach flutter. An alluring heat radiated through me as I grasped his hand, a connection like a current sparking between us as I stepped out of the car. He surveyed me with a deliberate gaze, his scrutiny lingering. “I wasn’t sure I could dissuade you from the librarian look.” His approval was evident. “This dress was undoubtedly the right choice for you.” Raising my chin, I locked eyes with him, a grin tugging at my lips. “Was that an insult cloaked in a compliment?” A smirk danced across his lips. “I’ve grown accustomed to your cardigans.” His eyes danced in mischief. “Can you see without those glasses?” I playfully batted my lashes at him. “Fuck you, Connor.” “Alluding to insights I highly doubt you want from me,” he replied, affecting a haughty demeanor. “But I would happily modify our contract to include that as a bonus.” I returned his smirk, the playful banter easing my tension. “Please, spare yourself the trouble.” “Why would I, when everyone else does it better?” he quipped darkly. In a burst of spontaneity, I reached up and pressed my palm against his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, a faint flicker of vulnerability shining through. “Stand down, Connor. Just because you’re the villain in everyone else’s story doesn’t mean you need to be in mine.” Something shifted in his expression—an almost tender softness sweeping over his features. “I honestly thought you’d bolt.” “I considered it,” I confessed. “Smart woman. But that contract is ironclad, which means you’re tethered to me now—through thick and thin.” He extended his arm toward me, invitingly. “What are we telling your parents?” “That I fell for you during Callie’s hockey games,” he responded smoothly, brushing his fingers against my stacked bracelets. “But don’t worry. I won’t let them bite.” “Your job, then?” I pressed. “Not per our agreement, but I’m willing to revise the paperwork to accommodate your needs, darling.” With that cheeky retort, he led me toward the ornate entrance—into what felt like the lion's den.