I Told You To Run But You Didn't (Georgia) novel Chapter 55

Chapter 55

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Finished

Georgia’s POV

Just as Maria asked where my supposed fiancé was hiding, he appeared, stepping out of the bedroom like he owned the place. Oh, here he comes, I thought, my internal voice dripping with sarcasm. My charming, devoted, soon-to-be husband.

He had changed into dark trousers and a crisp white shit, the sleeves casually rolled up his forearms. He looked devastatingly handsome, relaxed, and completely at ease, ready to play his part.

He walked into the dining room, a warm, polite smile fixed on his face, the kind that made him look like a respectable heir, not a ruthless crime lord.

“Ah, good evening, ladies,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet. “Please forgive my delay. I hope I haven’t kept dinner waiting.”

Louiella, Sofia, and Maria practically melted.

“Not at all, dear boy!” Louiella chirped. “Come, sit! Estean, these are my dear friends, Sofia and Maria. Ladies, this is Estevan, Georgia’s fiancé!”

He shook their hands, exuding effortless charm. “A pleasure to meet you both. Any friends of Louiella and Georgia are friends of mine.”

Liar, I thought again, taking a large gulp of water.

Dinner started awkwardly. Louiella kept the conversation flowing at first, talking about the town festival next month, but Sofia and Maria were clearly bursting with questions, their eyes darting between me and Estevan with undisguised curiosity.

Finally, Sofia couldn’t hold back any longer. She leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. “So, Estevan, Louiella tells us you two are engaged! Have you set a date for the wedding yet? We haven’t had a good wedding in Veritas in ages!”

I choked on my water, sputtering and coughing as Estevan smoothly fielded the question without missing a beat.

“We’re still deciding,” he said, reaching over and patting my back with infuriating gentleness. “Georgia wants something small and intimate, but I’m trying to convince her to let me spoil her a little.” He gave me a look that was like a possessive heat disguised as affection. “She deserves the best, don’t you think?”

Maria sighed dreamily. “Oh, that’s so romantic! And the honeymoon? Have you thought about where you’ll go? Paris is lovely in the spring! Or perhaps Italy?”

1 started coughing again, this time on a piece of bread. This was torture,

Estevan let out a low, happy chuckle, clearly enjoying my discomfort immensely. He leaned towards me. lowering his voice so only I could hear, his lips brushing against my car. “What do you think, love? Should we tell them about that private island I was looking at?he one with no phones and very thin walls?”

My face flushed crimson. I kicked him sharply under the table, He just grinned, turning back to the beaming old women.

“We’re keeping the honeymoon destination a surprise,” he said smoothly. “But I promise you, it will be unforgettable.” He then had the audacity to reach across the small space between us and take my hand,

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Chapter 55

lacing his fingers through mine.

His touch was electric, possessive, a public claiming that made my stomach clench.

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Finished

I sat there, trapped between his infuriating performance and the well-meaning, incredibly awkward questions of Louiella’s friends, feeling like a butterfly pinned to a board.

Louiella leaned forward, her eyes bright with excitement. “So, is it going to be this year, then? Oh, a winter wedding would be lovely up here!”

Estevan didn’t hesitate for a second. He gave Louiella a warm, confidential smile, as if letting her in on a secret. “Well, I keep trying to convince her to elope with me tomorrow,” he said, giving my hand a possessive squeeze under the table that made my skin crawl. “But Georgia has her heart set on next year. The first month of spring, she says. Isn’t that right, love

He turned that devastatingly charming gaze on me, pining me in place. The lie rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so convincingly, it was terrifying. He’s infuriatingly good at this.

Trapped under the weight of their hopeful gazes, I forced another tight, fake smile. “Y-Yes,” I managed, my voice sounding strained even to my own ears. “Spring. Is… my favorite season.” I immediately took a large gulp of wine and focused intently on cutting a piece of chicken on my plate, desperate for a distraction.

The rest of the evening continued in a similar vein. Sofi and Maria were utterly captivated by Estevan. They asked him about his business, his family and the way he spun a lovely tale about his dear, departed father, the General, conveniently omitting the army of astard sons, and how he and I met—a ridiculously romanticized version of the airfield incident that involved ‘love at first sight.

He navigated their questions with effortless grace, painting himself as the perfect, devoted fiancé.

Meanwhile, I mostly ate in silence, offering brief, noncommittal answers when directly addressed, feeling increasingly like an imposter in my own home.

It struck me then how easily these women, who had known me my whole life, accepted this stranger and his story. But why wouldn’t they? They had no reason to doubt.

No one in Veritas knew about Lucas.

I’d left town right after high school, first for the academ, then my military career. By the time I retired and married Lucas, he had insisted on a small, intensely priate wedding, citing security concerns and a desire for intimacy.

Only a handful of his associates and Patricia had been exclusive. Now, looking back through the lens of betray

ere. At the time, I thought it was romantic, and Estevan’s dark world, it felt different.

It felt like I had been kept hidden, compartmentalized, convenient secret. What a fool I had been, mistaking control for love.

After the forced smiles and polite goodbyes, the house leaving me alone in the dimly lit hallway. My bedroom

I reached for the handle, but a hand clamped down har around my waist like a steel band, yanking me backware clicked shut behind us.

nally fell quiet, Louiella went upstairs to her room,

oor was just a few feet away. Freedom. Solitude.

over my mouth from behind, another arm snaking into the darkness of my own bedroom. The door

I struggled instinctively, but Estevan’s body was pressed against my back, pinning me against the door.

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