I was Ivy Gilbert, the sole heiress of the Gilbert family. When had my life come to this — reading someone's mood, listening through walls like some discarded afterthought?
I shut the door to the second bedroom and put on my headphones.
Seven days.
I could endure it.
It was exactly the thing I'd been dreading.
The next day, Dad called.
"Ivy, my birthday is the day after tomorrow. Bring your boyfriend to the party."
My heart sank.
"Dad, you know I told him I was just a regular office worker making thirty grand a year. If I bring him to your party, he'll figure everything out."
Dad laughed.
"I'm not going to blow your cover. Just tell him you're bringing him to a business event. It's been almost a year now. I want to see for myself how things are between you two. If you've really found the one, I'll be happy for you."
I went quiet.
There was no way to refuse.
For as long as I could remember, Dad had rarely asked anything of me. He'd built his company into an empire, yet he'd never once pressured me into anything. The only condition he'd ever set was the one-year pact.
"Fine. I'll bring him."
That evening, Giles and Lissa came home.
When they pushed open the door, they both froze.