Chapter 21
Christian’s grandfather was exactly as I had imagined: tall, imposing, with perfectly trimmed silver hair and a piercing gaze that seemed to see through any façade. Joseph Kensington carried that kind of presence that commanded immediate respect. He was the type of man who never needed to raise his voice to be heard.
As we approached him, I noticed how several guests subtly stepped aside, as if yielding space to a force of nature. He was surrounded by a small group of businessmen, but the moment he saw Christian, he dismissed them with at simple gesture.
“Grandfather, this is Zoey Bennett, my fiancée,” Christian introduced in a calm voice. I did catch the subtle tension in his shoulders.
“At last, we meet, Miss Bennett,” said Joseph, extending his hand. His Valentian accent was soft but unmistakable.
“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Kensington,” I replied, my own hand trembling slightly as it met his.
His eyes, a striking ice-blue, studied me unhurriedly, as though he were evaluating every detail. I had the uncanny sensation of being X-rayed.
“Christian has spoken much about you,” he remarked, though I strongly doubted that was true. “A wedding-dress saleswoman, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Interesting.” He took a sip of his wine. “You must have seen many happy brides over the years.’
“And a few not so happy,” I blurted before I could stop myself. “Sometimes the perfect dress doesn’t guarantee a perfect marriage.”
Something flickered in his gaze-something that looked suspiciously like approval.
“Christian, fetch a glass of our 2018 Chardonnay Reserve for your fiancée,” he instructed suddenly. “I want her to taste the wine that won us the award last year.”
Christian hesitated for the briefest moment, glancing from me to his grandfather.
“Of course.”
As Christian moved away, I felt the weight of other people’s eyes on us. Heads turned discreetly-or not so discreetly-curious about the woman who had supposedly captured the heart of the country’s most coveted bachelor. Among them, I noticed Elise watching from a distance, her calculating stare never leaving us.
“Don’t trouble yourself over the spectators,” Joseph said, catching my unease. “People are always fascinated by what they cannot have.”
I was left alone with him, and the silence between us felt heavier than any words could.
“How did you two meet?” he asked finally.
“Through mutual friends,” I replied, recalling the story we had agreed upon. “We ran into each other at an event in the city.”
His brows lifted ever so slightly. “Curious. Christian rarely attends social gatherings outside of business.”
“Sometimes the best encounters happen in the most unexpected places,” I countered with a smile, sticking to the script.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“And what was your first date with my grandson like?”
Heat crept up my neck. I couldn’t exactly tell him I’d mistaken Christian for a gigolo and we’d ended up in bed the very first chance we got.
“It was… unexpected. He wasn’t what I imagined.”
“And what did you imagine?”
“Someone less…” I hesitated, searching for the right word, “…genuine.”
Joseph tilted his head, studying me with renewed interest.
“”Genuine’ is not a word most would use to describe Christian. Charming, yes. Intelligent, certainly. But genuine?”
“Maybe he shows different sides to different people,” I suggested.


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