The CEO’ s second choice novel Chapter 11

　　Elena

　　I hold on to Sebastian’s arm as he leads me inside Dumont Hall. I notice that all our guests have arrived before us and frowned. Did Sebastian tell his chauffeur to take us the long way around or something?

　　Seeing all these people here made me start to freeze up again, and I grip Sebastian’s arm tightly. He stares down at me, “Is something the matter?” He asks in that uppity tone of his and I roll my eyes into oblivion, “Just nerves,” I admit, but refuse to make eye contact with him, not after what transpired in the limousine.

　　“Well, I am afraid you will have to get used to the public eye, petite pâquerette. You are my wife now, so all eyes will be on you from now on, Lady Dumont.” Sebastian says with a smirk and my heart skips a beat at his impeccable French. Of course, his family had their roots in France.

　　Dumont

　　But why did he refer to me as a little daisy? I was very far from delicate or a lady, that was more my sister’s thing. My mother and grandmother always referred to me as the rebellious heiress, where Eliana was the lady. This shift in how I would need to portray myself had my head in a spin. How do I change my personality overnight?

　　Oh, he called me his wife. I was Sebastian Dumont’s wife. Lord help me.

　　We arrive at the entrance and all our guests welcome us; people who I would never recognize walking on the street. They wish us well, congratulating us and praising my beauty; something I was not used to. Eliana had always been the beauty, not me.

　　I mentally straighten my back and vow never to compare myself to my sister again. There was no point in berating myself like that anymore. Eliana had a lot of expectations of her, and in the end, she was more of a rebel than I could ever have been.

　　Sebastian turns to me and gives me a kiss on my cheek, “I see your mother over to the side there. She is struggling to get your attention, go to her.” He whispers in my ear, his low voice sending shivers down my spine. I nod, then let go of his arm and walk over to where my mother was standing.

　　For a former debutante and aristocratic socialite, my mother was behaving rather curiously. She lived for these events, yet now she was shying away from the crowd and keeping to herself.

　　When I finally reach her, I engulf her in a hug and kiss her cheek. “Mother, why are you here all by yourself?” I ask her, then see the disappointment in her eyes. Then I remember my discussion with my father this morning. “Mother, I am so sorry for the display with Mirabelle this morning. She was trying to take over and I should have stopped her.” I apologize, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

　　My mother glances at me and shakes her head, “If it was Eliana, she would never have allowed Mirabelle to take over as mother of the bride. But you allowed it, and it breaks my heart that you let her do it.”

　　My mother’s revelation had me shaking. Did she really just compare me to my sister? Everyone knew Eliana was her favourite, but she had never uttered it out loud.

　　I nod sadly, “I understand, mother. I honestly am sorry.” I say and I hear her scoff, “This was supposed to be Eliana’s day, she should have been here receiving the praise, not you.” My mother spits out and looks at me with spite.