A Vow of Deception, A Vow of Revenge novel Chapter 191

Jocelyn froze in place, her expression fracturing for just a moment.

Winona was only going to change into another dress—did Elvis really have to go with her?

She watched as Elvis accompanied Winona out of the room; no amount of flawless makeup could hide the anger simmering on Jocelyn's face.

At some point, Jackson appeared at her side.

"Stop looking," he said quietly. "You shouldn't have come tonight."

Jocelyn gave a cold laugh. "I don't need you telling me where I should or shouldn't be, big brother."

With that, she turned to leave.

Jackson quickly grabbed her wrist. "Where are you going?"

"Let go of me," Jocelyn said sharply, frowning. "Do you want everyone here to see us—brother and sister—arguing at an event like this?"

A vein pulsed at Jackson's temple.

The moment his grip loosened, Jocelyn yanked her arm free and strode away.

Jackson watched her go.

He knew exactly where she was headed.

She was going after Elvis.

She's lost her mind, he thought. His little sister, who'd always been the picture of a perfect heiress—composed, untouchable. But when it came to Elvis, all reason seemed to vanish.

…

Winona's dressing room was on the third floor.

Two female bodyguards accompanied her inside to change, while Elvis waited by the door.

Jocelyn hurried down the hallway, her eyes immediately finding Elvis standing by the dressing room entrance.

He had his back to her, posture straight and unwavering.

She gazed at his silhouette, and suddenly her eyes stung.

Three years ago, in the middle of a snowstorm, she'd run into him by chance.

Snapping out of her thoughts, Jocelyn forced herself to swallow her bitterness and walked up behind Elvis.

"Mr. Rogers."

At the sound of her voice, Elvis turned around. He immediately took two subtle steps back, widening the space between them.

"Miss Quincy." His tone was cool and distant. "Did you need something?"

"Oh, nothing really," Jocelyn replied, managing a smile. "The ballroom was stuffy and a little dull, so I thought I'd get some air."

She glanced at the dressing room door, then added, "Are you waiting here for Miss Thorne?"

Elvis replied with a curt, "Yes."

One word—so brief it bordered on dismissive.

Jocelyn's smile faltered, the ache inside her swelling again. She gripped her clutch until her knuckles turned white, but forced herself to continue. "Miss Thorne is very lucky. Not everyone gets Mr. Rogers himself waiting outside while they change. It's hard enough for me to find someone to talk to at these things."

As she spoke, hope flickered in her eyes—hoping she might catch even a hint of emotion on his face.

But Elvis only said, "Winona is my fiancée. This is what I should do. Being able to wait here for her is my privilege."