Chapter 128 Kiara

• My rude awakening comes the next morning at ten fifteen, with a tray of coffees balanced on one palm. I spent the whole morning floating somewhere around the ceiling, giddy with happiness after my two—two—dances with the perfect stranger last night, and I don’t notice Nicholas’s foul mood until it’s too late.
• “Coffee for your hangover,” I chirp, bustling into his study on the top floor of the family mansion, my knee-length skirt swishing around my thighs. The walls are lined with bookcases and a large screen TV, the morning news running on mute, and a vase of fresh white flowers brightens all the mahogany and brass.
• And my brother’s always an ogre in the morning after the masquerade ball, thanks to spending the whole night drinking and screwing, but today something’s different.