His 181St Second (Laverne and Marina) novel Chapter 52

**Winds Carry Lost Promises by Asa Holt Vale**

**Chapter 52**

Marina bit her lip, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and an emotion she struggled to define. In a moment of resolve, she slapped her cheeks lightly, as if to shake off the weight of the moment, and strode away from the scene that had ignited her discomfort.

As she turned to leave, her gaze fell upon the pillar she had been leaning against, and she was taken aback to find it adorned with crude carvings of people in compromising poses. A wave of heat surged through her, and without a second thought, she bolted away from the unsettling sight.

The primitive “art” that seemed to saturate the surroundings left her feeling disoriented and disconnected. Marina stepped out of the hotel, her cheeks still aflame, and spotted Daron’s driver waiting patiently by the car at the entrance.

As soon as he caught sight of her, he stepped aside with a courteous smile, gesturing for her to enter the vehicle. Daron was already seated inside, his presence commanding and enigmatic.

The streetlights outside cast long, dramatic shadows across his chiseled features, shrouding much of his face in darkness. He appeared both handsome and elusive, an intriguing combination that made her heart race. His shirt collar, which she had carelessly mussed earlier, hung open, revealing a hint of his collarbone with two buttons undone. The dim light played tricks on her eyes, making his black shirt look even more regal, while the gleam of his watch exuded an air of undeniable wealth.

Marina couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of her league in his presence. The driver, ever the professional, noticed her hesitance and spoke up, “Ms. Finley, if you would.”

Marina offered a polite smile, though inside she felt the need to assert herself. “Thank you, but I drove myself here.”

The driver held the door open, glancing inside the car, patiently awaiting her decision. Daron’s gaze shifted to her, his eyes piercing through the dim light.

“Get in,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Marina pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling a mix of irritation and resignation, and climbed into the vehicle. She had always been astute in navigating tricky situations; there was no need to create friction with someone whose favor she might need to curry in the future, especially over something as trivial as a moment of discomfort.

Just as she settled into the plush seat, her phone buzzed insistently, jolting her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen and saw it was the manager from the bridal shop. A wave of panic washed over her as she realized she had completely forgotten to reach out to them.

“Ms. Finley, good evening,” the manager’s voice came through, professional yet slightly strained. “Our staff went to Park City to deliver your wedding dress as scheduled, but it appears the location is undergoing renovations.”

Marina felt a knot form in her stomach. “Since you haven’t updated your address, we’re calling to ask where you would like us to deliver your dress. We can send it over as soon as we receive your instructions.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts before responding in a calm voice, “Just have the dress delivered to the front desk at Azure Hotel. I’ll pick it up when I return.”

The manager hesitated, likely taken aback by her nonchalance, and repeated, “Are you sure you want it delivered to the hotel?”

Marina offered a quiet “Mm,” her tone so indifferent that it felt as if she were arranging an ordinary delivery, devoid of any excitement or anticipation that usually accompanied the impending nuptials.

The manager remained silent for a moment, processing the unusual response. “So, is your glam team coming to the hotel to do your hair and makeup too?”

“Yeah, probably,” Marina replied, her voice flat.

The manager was momentarily speechless. After years in the bridal business, she had encountered countless brides, yet none had ever approached the process with such a calm demeanor, as if the wedding dress was merely a formality rather than a significant milestone.

Most brides would be in and out of the shop, checking on their dresses and urging the staff to expedite the delivery as the big day approached. Yet, Marina had only made a single appearance, and even then, she had opted not to try the dress on herself, letting someone else do it instead. She had even left it dirty after a fit of frustration, showing little concern for its condition.

To the staff, it was as if the dress didn’t belong to her at all. They had anticipated some juicy drama, but whispers of the wedding being canceled never surfaced, leaving them in suspense.

“Alright, we’ll deliver it directly to Cloudview Hotel,” the manager finally said, her tone resigned.

“Okay,” Marina replied quietly, then ended the call.

Daron turned his head slightly, curiosity piqued. “Your wedding’s tomorrow?”

Marina nodded, feeling a tightness in her throat. “Yeah.”

“Congratulations,” he said coolly, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Annoyance bubbled within her, a lump of irritation lodged in her throat. “Mr. Zamora, perhaps you should refrain from licking your lips so much,” she retorted, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Daron shot her a puzzled glance, his brow furrowing slightly.

Maintaining her smile, she continued, her words escaping through clenched teeth, “I just worry you might end up poisoning yourself with your own venom.”

He was well aware of what kind of person Lavern was, yet he still offered his congratulations as if it were nothing.

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