Chapter 11
The ice blue Bentley Continental GT gleamed in the morning sun, its unique color breathtaking. Thalia’s eyes lit up.
She loved it.
A man in an impeccable suit stepped out, offering her the keys with polished deference. “Miss Winters,
from Mr. Blackwood.”
Taking the keys. Thalia felt touched.
Asher was incredibly generous–the car must cost over $300,000.
“Thank you,” she said to the delivery man.
“My pleasure, Miss. I’ll take my leave if there’s nothing else.” He gave a slight bow, maintaining perfect professionalism.
“Of course.”
“As he left, Asher called.
“How’s the car?” His tone was casual, as if asking about lunch.
Three hundred thousand dollars, discussed like grocery shopping.
In their social circle, such gifts to fiancées were unremarkable. But after three years of middle–class life, she’d almost forgotten that world.
“I love it, Asher. Thank you.”
“I remembered you like blue,” his rich voice carried warmth.
“How did you know that?”
She couldn’t recall ever mentioning her color preference.
A soft chuckle. “During our tutoring sessions–all your notebooks and pencil cases were light blue,”
Thalia was surprised he’d noticed such details.
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She did love blue, and this ice blue Bentley had genuinely stunned her.
“The moment I saw it, I knew you’d love it,” Asher said softly. “Take it for a spin? It’s perfectly sized for
you.”
“I will soon.”
After hanging up, Thalia sat in the driver’s seat, hands on the wheel, feelings mixed.
She had her license and had driven plenty these past three years.
But always Drake’s cars, while her own sat gathering dust in her family’s London garage.
With Drake, she’d been more like his designated driver than girlfriend.
He’d call from bars, too drunk to drive, expecting her to pick him up.
She’d heard his friends mention how he’d bought his previous girlfriend an $80,000 BMW after their breakup.
Yet despite knowing her job required frequent travel–court appearances, client meetings, case negotiations–he’d never once offered to get her a car.
Not that she’d wanted one from him, but comparing his attitude with Asher’s made the difference in
consideration painfully clear.
Drake’s version of care felt embarrassingly inadequate.
Lost in thought, she heard an exclamation.
“Oh my god, what a gorgeous car! I’ve been dying to get one of these!” Sienna’s voice carried across the driveway.
Through the window, Thalia saw Sienna and Drake approaching.
Sienna hadn’t expected to find her dream car–an ice blue Bentley Continental–outside Drake’s house.
Her family, while friends with the Ashcrofts, were hardly old money. Comfortable, but not wealthy.
Recent business troubles had left her father’s company struggling. They were counting on her marriage to Drake to save them through Ashcroft Capital’s support.
Sienna made no effort to hide her enthusiasm, running her hands over the car like an excited teenager.
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“Drake, take my picture!”
She primped in the window, not realizing it was one–way glass.
From inside. Thalia watched her like a mildly interesting zoo exhibit.
Just as Sienna was getting the perfect angle, Thalia lowered the window, meeting her eyes.
“Hello there.” Thalia’s smile was sugar sweet.
Sienna froze.
“Thalia? What are you doing here?”
Drake reached them.
Seeing Thalia, his brow furrowed. “Why are you renting a Bentley?”
He didn’t even ask–just assumed she’d rented it.
Sienna recovered, smirking. “Oh, photo shoot? These luxury car rentals must cost what, a month’s salary for one picture?”
Drake’s frown deepened, disgust evident. “You’re renting cars for social media? Have you lost it?”
“Really, Thalia,” Sienna added, “everyone knows what lawyers make. People will just call you desperate for posting fake lifestyle photos. Why bother?”
Thalia gave her an amused look. “Speaking from experience with rentals?”
Sienna’s smile faltered.
Because she had rented before.
When her social circle was posting cars and bags, she’d begged her father for a luxury car. He’d refused, citing financial troubles.
Angry and competitive, she’d rented a Lamborghini for Instagram photos.
The memory of embarrassment faded as she rallied–at least she’d rented a Lamborghini, worth over a million. Much more expensive than this Bentley.
Though she’d rented, she’d never admit it to Drake.
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Chin high, she declared, “I don’t need rentals. My Lamborghini in Paris cost way more than this.“.
“Oh? Where is it now?” Thalia asked.
Sienna lied smoothly. “Got bored of it. Sports cars are flashy but impractical. I just got a Porsche Panamera–you can take pictures with it sometime. No charge.”
Her tone dripped condescension.
She did have a Panamera–a used one. Her family’s fortunes had fallen, her father’s business losing money yearly, their house mortgaged.
If not for chasing Drake, she wouldn’t have bought even that to keep up appearances.
“Ahh,” Thalia drew out the sound. “Didn’t you want photos? Feel free to use this one.”
Sienna’s face darkened. “No thanks.”
Drake cut in: “Thalia, since when did you become so desperate for attention?”
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