Emily’s Dilemma: Seduced by Billionaire Brothers

The flight back to New York in the Hatton private jet was silent, the couples sat silently in the plane, the weight of Emily’s confession hanging over both their heads as they struggled to make sense of the situation.

“So what now? Anita is your sister, what are you going to do?” Ethan asked, sipping red wine from a glass, his sunglasses on as he peered over Emily who equally hid her swollen eyes from crying with dark glasses.

“I’m not going to do anything, what’s there to do?” She asked him back.

“You don’t want to meet him?” He asked and Emily shook her head.

“I don’t think so, I don’t know him”

“I guess that’s the whole point of meeting him Emily, to know him” he said, stretching out a hand to hold hers and she took it gratefully

“But whenever you’re ready babe” he added and Emily nodded.

They stayed silent for a while before Ethan spoke again

“Any plans when we land back to New York because I have to branch the company”

“Alright then, I have to go for dress fittings anyways for the banquet dinner”

*****

Emily stepped onto the plush cream carpet of the expensive dress store “Anexier”, the faint scent of peonies perfuming the air. The dress store with its floor to ceiling mirrors and soft, golden hued lighting, promising a haven for women with a penchant for high fashion and even higher standards.

She wanted to perfect her look for the banquet dinner, the Hatton family was going to be present and every New York City elites would mingle flaunting their impeccable style and wealth. As much as she would’ve preferred a more lowkey preparation, it behooved her role as the wife of Ethan Hatton.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

Stripping away her outer layers, Emily exchanged her comfortable denim for the silk and lace concoction that would seal her facade on the night of the occasion. The dress – an azure masterpiece that contoured her figure with both grace and assertiveness, truthfully this was her debut into high society.

As the tailor began to tuck and adjust the fabric, Emily caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, she was astounded by the transformation but her throughts were immediately disrupted by a voice that dripped saccharine venom.

“Well well well, who do we have here playing dress up?”

The voice belonged to Anita Brown, who sauntered into boutique, slim hips swinging left to right with the swagger of someone who had indeed grown up amongst the racks of designer clothing. Clad in a sheath dress, Anita carried herself with an air of superiority that she wielded like a weapon.

Emily remained still, her eyes studying Anita as she moved closer to her. She had never dealt with mean girls before and was unsure what to do in this situation.

Smirking at her reflection, Anita proceeded to glide through the aisles. The sales assistants, recognizing the caliber of their client, flitted around her like moths to a flame, offering the latest pieces from French designers.

The tailor cleared her throat, urging Emily to turn slightly. The pins in her mouth muffled her instructions. A Mark of professionalism, she continued her work, blissfully unaware of the undercurrent of tension.

Emily watched as Anita paused at a rack of evening gowns, her critical gaze assessing each piece as if it were vying for her personal favor. “I’d choose something a bit less… audacious,” Anita remarked, thumbing through the fabrics. “After all, it’s an occasion of class, not a peacock convention.”

Emily chuckled nervously, Anita’s remark biting through her but she smiled still, managing to maintain her composure

“Oh, I’m sure whatever you wear will overshadow the rest of us mere mortals,” Emily managed to say, keeping her voice light despite the sting of Anita’s insult. She couldn’t help but admire how the seamstress tactfully maintained a neutral expression.

In the reflection, Emily noticed a flicker of irritation pass over Anita’s perfectly contoured face, quickly masked by a schooled smile as sharp as the stilettos she wore. “Darling, I don’t aim to overshadow. I merely present a standard. Besides, it’s not the dress-it’s who’s wearing it.”

Anita’s gaze pierced through Emily’s reflection, a silent challenge lodged between blatantly false niceties, but she had had it with the back and forth catty remarks, so she took a deep breath and decided to disengage focusing instead on the tender ministrations of the seamstress as the final nip here and a tuck there cinched the gown to perfection.

Yet, as she reveled in the momentary peace, Anita’s voice sliced through once more. “It’s a shame Ethan’s not in charge of the event this year, it was his absolute favorite thing to do and I’m not sure if you know that, makes me question a lot of things”

The sweetness in Anita’s tone didn’t mask the venom. Emily met Anita’s gaze in the mirror, her green eyes steely. “It doesn’t matter, Ethan doesn’t mind and we’re all absolutely rooting for Jackson this year”

The lie tasted like ash on her tongue, but Emily’s posture didn’t falter. She had no intention of revealing the bombshell about their connected familial ties, keeping her cards close to her chest. This was a revelation for another day, in a setting less public, and certainly less fraught with tension.

“Same Jackson that you’re absolutely in love with” Anita said out of the blue and Emily froze, her skin turning to ice immediately, the tension in the air even more frigid but Anita broke into a mocking laughter immediately, the amusement reaching her eyes as she had the got the reaction she was looking for.

“Oh my God! I was just joking, you should’ve seen your face” she laughed and Emily fought to keep her composure, her heart pounding fast and loud.

“Or are you?” Anita asked and Emily rolled her eyes in an attempt to keep her cool.

“What are you running your mouth about now?”

Anita shrugged

“Just curious, because I heard some rumors” she said and Emily knew better not to take the bait

With the fitting complete and the dress clinging to her like a second skin, Emily stepped down from the pedestal. She felt Anita’s critical eyes on her but met the scrutiny with silent confidence.

“See you at the Banquet…. Emily, hope you make it to the end of the night”