Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

Heart 10



(Cordelia)

After I hung up with my lawyer, I wasn't sure where I should go.

I couldn't go to my parents, they would just send me straight back here to "fix" things.

I didn't really have any friends...my whole adult life has been tied up in being the wife of Atlas Steele. When I got married at the age of 20, I dropped out of school.

The only person who had ever made any effort to stay connected was my old college roommate Tilly.

I almost didn't call her, I was worried that my troubles would just be a

burden, but when she answered, she was overjoyed to hear from me and immediately invited me to meet her for drinks and catch up. We hit it off immediately and it was like we had never been separated.

When I told her about my marriage and the disaster it had become, she offered me her spare room. She didn't want rent or anything for it. The only price she asked of me was to "use this place to heal-and start designing again!" Because Tilly had grown up to become Mathilda Madison, designer to the stars and once upon a time, that had been my dream too-a dream I had set aside to take my sister's place.

"You are an artist," she reminded me, "You deserve your chance to shine."ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

I've been trying to live up to her expectations, but my heart hasn't been into creating anything new.

"You just need the right inspiration," Tilly insisted. "Lucky for you, your best friend is Mathilda Madison." She smirks as she drops an invitation in my lap. "You're coming out with me tonight," Tilly insists. "I won't let you say no." "I'm not ready to be around other people yet," I moan, using a couch pillow to hide my face. "Maybe the

next one."

"No! Not an option," she sings in a chipper voice as she tosses a few of her latest designs on the chair next to me. "You're my plus one."

"Aghhhh!" I groan. "Do I have to?"

"Yes!" Tilly throws another dress onto the pile. "It'll be good for you. It's an art and fashion show and charity auction. It's the perfect place for a little inspiration. Remember how we used to go to these things all the time in school?" "Yes, but..." I try to protest, but she isn't paying attention as she begins to sift through the dresses, holding a few up in front of me before moving them into one pile or another.

Tilly is already so stylish that it doesn't take long for her to get ready, which means she has more time to give me a complete makeover.

We ended up choosing a classy but trendy vibrant green dress that is low cut and ends at the knee. It brings out the color of my eyes and pops against my hair when paired with a black velvet jacket and matching pumps that are tastefully encrusted with gems that glow subtly as I move.

Next, Tilly insisted on cutting my hair and styling it straight. I protested at first, but she persisted and now

it falls to my shoulder in a glowing red curtain, pinned on one side by sparkling pins of jet and onyx. Even I have to admit the shorter, edgier style suits me better than the long dowdy style I had worn before. Atlas prefers long hair, so I wore it that way to please him. By the time she is done with me, I don't quite recognize myself

When I became Mrs. Atlas Steele for the sake of my family, I lost myself. I sacrificed my career, art, and sense of self trying to be the woman he wanted and fill the space left by my sister.

But tonight, I am stylish, elegant, and confident.

Tonight I look like Cordelia Greyson again.

I didn't realize how much I missed her.

When we arrive, the auction has already started. Tilly and I enjoy the elegantly clad couples as we glide along enjoying the creativity on display. There is art and fashion for sale in cases and along the walls next to rare vintage pieces borrowed from local museums. Some of the best pieces are in the auction themselves, including a beautiful jade necklace that I've already fallen in love with. I have some money in savings, maybe it is time for me to treat myself to something fine, a present as I start my new life.

The chatter in the room quiets as a set of chimes signals the call for attention. "We will now begin auctioning off the items in the final collection."

The crowd starts buzzing. This is what all the investors have been waiting for. The items in this collection are exquisite, each piece having a rich history as well as unique beauty.

The auctioneer slowly pulls the necklace from the case. Holding it aloft, the jade catches the light, showcasing its high quality.

"Opening bids start at $100,000."

People shuffle to get their paddles ready. I really want that necklace but $100,000 is at the edge of what I can afford now that I am no longer using Atlas' money Hesitantly, I begin to raise my paddle.

"One million dollars," a familiar voice announces, drawing the gasps of everyone present.

The room goes silent. That is more money than any other single piece has received. In some cases, it's more than an entire collection of items. 1

Atlas Steele stands in the middle of the crowd, the only person with his paddle raised. The auctioneer gives the rest of us a chance to outbid his offer. Nobody does. One million dollars for a single necklace.

But why?

Is it possible that it is for me?

Smiling, I watch as he walks over to the auctioneer and begins making arrangements.

And just as I am about to call out his name, the word falls dead on my lips along with the remnants of my

frozen smile.

Standing in a stunning gold dress by his side, an elegant hand on his arm is Sydney, his secretary.

Tilly bumps my elbow gently handing me a glass of champagne. When she sees the look on my face, her own smile falters. "Are you okay, Cordy? You look like someone just stepped over your grave." "It's nothing," I lie as my stomach drops and I feel like might be ill, "I'm just...I'm just not feeling well." I give the champagne back to her and rush towards the bathroom, holding my hand over my mouth, "Wow!" I hear someone say as I pass. "I wonder who the lucky lady is?"

I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment. It was foolish of me to think it could be for me. Atlas has never cared for me, not enough to buy me a spontaneous gift, never mind one costing a cool million. "Whoever that woman is, I'm jealous!" her friend replies. "That guy is a real catch. To spend that much money on a necklace, he must really care about her."

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I see the mess I've made of my makeup and do my best to

face. remove the worst of the damage before splashing some cool water on my

"Why do I care so much?" I say under my breath as I look down at my hands, feeling silly for allowing myself to feel so much pain over this. "Our divorce will be final soon. He can buy necklaces for other women if he wants. It has nothing to do with me." Clutching the counter, I take long deep breaths when the sound of slow, staccato footsteps on marble let me know that I am no longer alone.

""Oh, it's you.


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