Submission is Not My Style novel Chapter 68

The sky outside my window is already cloaked in inky darkness, scattered with the soft glow of stars. The air buzzes with anticipation–tonight is the introduction party, and somehow, I’m the center of it. 

I smooth my palms down the sides of my dress again, nerves pricking at my skin. The deep blue fabric hugs my figure in all the right places, flowing like liquid silk around my legs. It pairs perfectly with the sapphire necklace resting just above my collarbone, catching the light with every breath I take. 

It feels like a part of me now, as if it was always meant to be there. 

I glance at my reflection one last time, hardly recognizing the woman staring back. Jasmine didn’t return to help, which worries me more than I’d like to admit–but thankfully, she left a box of makeup. I managed to apply enough to enhance my features, and for once, I feel… beautiful. 

A loud horn blares outside, making me jump. My heart stutters as I rush to the window and peck out. 

Jack. 

He’s standing beside a sleek black carriage, dressed in a navy–blue suit that hugs his broad shoulders and fits him like sin. His dark hair is slicked back neatty, his jaw sharp and clean. Two guards flank the carriage, but all I can focus on is him—and the ridiculously romantic bouquet of roses in his hand. 

He’s looking straight at my window. 

I bolt out of the room before my thoughts can catch up with me and fling open the front door–just as he reaches it. He drops to one knee without hesitation, eyes sparkling. 

“Flowers,” he says, his voice rich and low, “to complement your beauty.” 

Iarch a brow, trying to act unimpressed. “Really? This from the big, bad Alpha who wants a submissive mate? You kneel now?” 

He grins, completely unfazed. “What can I say? You bring out the worst… and the best in me.” 

Inside, I’m screaming. But I play it cool. 

“Thanks. You don’t look bad yourself.” 

Jack rises and offers his arm. “I tried to match your beauty. I failed–but I tried.” 

“I never knew you had a romantic bone in you,” I murmur as he leads me to the carriage. 

“Me neither,” he chuckles, opening the door for me with an exaggerated chivalry “But here we are.” 

Inside the carriage, it’s quiet but not uncomfortable. Jack reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. I glance at him, and for the first time, he looks… nervous? 

“We could’ve walked,” I tease, resting my head gently against his shoulder. 

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