Chapter 8 Madison Invites Me to Her Wedding

Chapter 8 Madison Invites Me to Her Wedding

Amanda's POV

The moment I walked in, I froze. Because there he was - Nathan Anderson, relaxing in our living room with casual confidence. He sat there in a crisp white shirt and dark jeans that fit him perfectly, his chiseled features defined in shadow. His dark hair fell just right, that sharp jawline and those intense eyes making my heart skip.

Before I could process this ambush (seriously, what the actual hell?), Madison's voice oozed through the room. "Oh look who's here! Nathan's helping plan the wedding. Next weekend at the Beverly Wilshire. Dreamy, right?"

Elizabeth appeared out of nowhere - probably summoned by the smell of money - with that fake socialite smile plastered on her face. "Nathan's been an absolute dear, throwing in an extra million for the big day. So generous."

"And speaking of weddings..." Madison's eyes gleamed "Word on the street is yours was quite... interesting, sis. Something about marrying a professional companion?" Her smile turned predatory. "You simply must bring him to our wedding. Give the old biddies something to gossip about for the next decade."

I fought the urge to either throw up or throw something. Preferably at Madison's perfectly contoured face.

The old Amanda would have flinched, would have felt shame burning her cheeks. But I wasn't that person anymore. "Careful, Madison. Your desperation is showing."

"Desperation?" She laughed, but it sounded brittle. "I'm not the one who had to pay for a husband."

"No," I agreed quietly, "you just had to steal one. Tell me, does it bother you that he only chose you after the Davis Corp stocks started falling? Or are you just happy someone finally picked you first?"

"Amanda!" Elizabeth's scandalized gasp almost made me laugh. Almost.

Nathan shifted uncomfortably. "Look, what happened between us-"

"Was exactly what I'd expect from someone like you," I finished for him. The words felt good, felt right. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a call with Cedar Grove about my grandfather's care. You remember my grandfather, right Nathan? The one whose medical bills you promised to help with before you decided trading up to Madison was a better investment?"

I didn't wait for his response, turning instead to climb the stairs. Behind me, I heard Madison's shrill voice: "Nathan, darling, don't let her upset you. She's just jealous."

In my room, I finally let out the breath I'd been holding. My phone buzzed - a text from Ethan: [Dinner? I know a place where we won't run into any fake clients or real snakes.]

I texted back: [Only if you promise to tell me more about this formidable grandmother of yours.]

His response came quickly: [Deal. Though I should warn you - she's scarier than your father and Madison combined.]

I stared at my phone again, trying to crack the puzzle that was Ethan Blackwood. Male escort? No way. The way Christopher watched him, how the staff practically bowed... something wasn't adding up.

But here's what freaked me out most - I'd stopped giving a damn about cracking his secrets. The actual guy had become way more interesting. And yeah, that scared the hell out of me... but hey, at least he hadn't tried to screw me over yet, right? He might be keeping secrets, but every move he'd made so far had been straight up. No backstabbing, no hidden agendas. In my messed-up world? That was pretty damn rare.

City lights sparkled below while I grabbed my coat. Seven days. That's all I had to secure Grandpa's care, figure out Ethan's real deal, and finally tell the Davis family circus to shove it.

Madison's wedding invitation sat unopened on my dresser, mocking me. A fancy paper reminder of everything I was walking away from. They could keep their million-dollar circus show, their society page ass-kissing, and their perfectly orchestrated bullshit.

Tomorrow afternoon, I had that meeting at Cedar Grove about Grandpa - at least that's what I told Dad. But first? Dinner with Ethan. The dinner that would either seal our deal or blow everything to hell.

"You're thinking too hard," Ethan said as I slid into his ridiculous car.

"Just wondering how many lonely housewives paid for this ride," I shot back.

His laugh caught me off guard - genuine and warm. "Would you believe my grandmother gave it to me?"

"The terrifying one I'm about to meet?" A wave of anxiety washed over me - the kind I hadn't felt since facing those stern-faced doctors at med school interviews. I'd spent my whole life navigating the world of entitled rich people, their petty power plays and social climbing. But this felt different. Maybe because I actually gave a damn what this woman thought of me. Or maybe because I could sense she wielded real influence - not the manufactured kind my father desperately clung to, but the type that could reshape lives with a single phone call.

"The very same." He weaved through traffic with infuriating grace. "She has... interesting opinions about proper transportation for her grandson."

"And what's her take on proper wives?"

His smile turned mysterious. "We'll find out soon enough."

The restaurant was tucked away from the usual Beverly Hills hotspots. Ethan helped me out, his hand on my back sending sparks through my whole body.

"Soon," he whispered, and my heart did something stupid in my chest.

This place was something else - all quiet class and subtle luxury. No gold-plated everything or Instagram-worthy gimmicks, just pure sophistication. The kind of spot where real players came to eat in peace. The maître d' practically fell over himself when he spotted Ethan, hustling us to some tucked-away corner.

"Your usual table, Mr. Blackwood," he murmured, pulling out my chair.

Once he left, I couldn't resist. "Your usual table, huh?"

"I value my privacy."

"Clearly." I studied the menu - no prices listed, never a good sign. "Tell me about Grandma Blackwood. What should I expect?"

"Imagine Miranda Priestly and Warren Buffett had a baby, then the Queen of England raised it."

I laughed until I caught his expression. "Wait. You're serious?"

"Dead serious." He grinned. "She'll adore you."

"Right, because I'm such a catch - the scandal-plagued doctor from a family circling the drain?"

"No," he said, his voice going soft as he reached for my hand. "Because you're real. In our world, that's rarer than diamonds."

Our world. Those words sent chills down my spine. "And what world would that be?"

But Ethan was already signaling the sommelier, smooth as ever changing the subject. I let it slide, knowing I'd get nowhere. Plus, I was too busy having my own crisis.

Shit, he'd totally hooked me. Not the mystery, not the game - him. The way he saw me. How he helped without making me feel weak. The space he gave me to figure things out, even as everything spun faster around us.

"What's going on in that head?" he asked, catching my distant stare.

"Just thinking about what a mess this is becoming."

His smile softened. "It already was."

"Well, more of a mess then."

"But worth it?"

I thought about Madison's groom-stealing stunt, Dad's desperate schemes, all the lies I'd swallowed my whole life.

"Yeah," I admitted, squeezing his hand. "Worth it."

The door opened. Two security guards entered, followed by her butler and assistant. Then came Grandma Blackwood herself, elegant despite her obvious fatigue, leaning on her cane. Her warm smile couldn't hide the exhaustion in her eyes. My doctor instincts kicked in - something was definitely wrong there.