The ride to the mall was quiet, filled only with the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic clicking of the turn signals.
Outside, the city rolled by in a blur, but Nina’s mind refused to settle. Instead, it replayed her encounter with Axel like a broken record. His voice, his eyes, the way he had said “D” with that raw vulnerability—she dissected it all. What had been his plan if she’d said yes? Would he have explained himself? Apologized? Or would it have been just some carefully worded excuse wrapped in charm?
She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “He’s not your problem.” Saying it aloud felt like an attempt to anchor herself, to remind herself that her priorities lay elsewhere. Nathan. Adelaide had loved him—or at least, that was what she had to project. If she wanted to pull this off, her focus had to stay on Nathan, not Axel and his maddening allure.
Soon, the mall came into view, an architectural marvel gleaming under the afternoon sun. Its modern façade was all sharp lines and glass, a clear testament to Whitlock wealth. Martin smoothly pulled up to the grand entrance and quickly stepped out to open her door.
“We’ve arrived, Miss Adelaide,” he said, his tone as polished as ever, his polite smile unwavering.
“Thanks, Martin.” Nina stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath to steady herself. Straightening her shoulders, she faced the imposing structure in front of her. The building loomed large and sleek, exuding power, just like everything tied to the Whitlock name. Adelaide wouldn’t flinch at this. Of course not—this wasn’t just a mall. It was her mall, part of the vast Whitlock empire. She had probably been here a hundred times.
Still, no amount of mental pep talks could have prepared her for what waited inside. The moment she stepped through the glossy glass doors, a soft gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it. The interior was stunning. Sunlight poured through a massive glass dome overhead, pooling onto marble floors so polished they looked wet. At the center of the atrium, a towering waterfall glittered as it cascaded down into a rippling pool, its soothing sound blending with the hum of shoppers.
Everywhere she turned, there were rows of luxury stores—names she had only ever seen in magazines—each flaunting sleek displays of couture, glittering jewelry, and cutting-edge tech. Even the air smelled expensive, a subtle blend of vanilla and citrus that felt too perfect to be accidental.
It was overwhelming. The sheer extravagance of it all made her heart race. Adelaide would have walked in without so much as blinking, but Nina? She was wide-eyed, rooted to the spot, and practically gaping like a tourist. For a second, she forgot who she was supposed to be.
“Miss? Is everything alright?”
The voice startled her, and she turned to find Martin standing just behind her, his brow knit with concern.
“Are you feeling dizzy? Do you need to sit?” he asked, his voice low but urgent, like he was ready to catch her if she so much as swayed.
For a moment, she was confused. Then it clicked—Adelaide. Of course. She was delicate, a porcelain doll in everyone’s eyes. And right now, she was supposed to be Adelaide.
“Oh, no,” she said quickly, forcing a bright smile. “I’m fine, really.”
He didn’t look convinced but gave a small nod, his posture still stiff as he trailed after her. She started walking, trying to appear collected, but it was impossible to ignore the weight of his presence. It was like having a shadow that breathed, constantly hovering, watching.
She spun on her heel, catching him off guard. “Martin,” she said, keeping her tone light but firm. “Why don’t you wait in the car? I’ll only be a little while.”
Martin’s frown deepened, the crease between his brows making him look almost offended. “I always accompany you when you shop for clothing items, Miss Adelaide.”
Adelaide, not me, Nina thought to herself. But outwardly, she kept her expression calm. “And today, I want to shop alone. Do you have a problem with that?” She tilted her head slightly, feigning a hint of annoyance to sell it.
His hesitation was almost painful to watch. His back went rigid, his professional instincts clearly at war with her request. “No, ma’am,” he said slowly, cautiously. “But I’m concerned you might need assistance, and—”
“I’ll be fine, Martin,” she cut in, her voice firm but measured. “If I needed your help, I wouldn’t have asked you to wait in the car, would I?”
His mouth opened, then closed. For a moment, she thought she had won. But then he tried again, voice quieter this time. “Mrs. Whitlock insists that—”
“I said I’m fine!” The sharpness in her voice surprised even her, cutting through the air like a whip.
Martin froze, his eyes widening as though she had slapped him. A brief silence hung between them, thick and uncomfortable, before he finally took a step back. “Understood, Miss Adelaide,” he murmured, bowing his head before retreating, his shoulders stiff with resignation.
As she watched him leave, a pang of guilt crept in. She hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant coddling, the relentless watchfulness—it was suffocating. How had Adelaide lived like this, treated like she would shatter at the slightest touch? The thought made her chest ache, but she quickly shook it off. There was no time for sentimentality.
Nina turned on her heel and strode deeper into the mall. The first section she entered was a sea of designer gowns, each one more jaw-dropping than the last. Her fingers brushed against the fabric of a silk emerald-green dress that seemed to ripple like liquid under the lights. Its neckline plunged daringly low, the kind of bold elegance she could admire.
Then there was a midnight-blue gown dusted with tiny crystals, each one catching the light like stars scattered across the fabric. Both were stunning, but they weren’t her. They were Adelaide—impossibly glamorous, poised, untouchable.
“Oh, Miss Whitlock, that green dress would look divine on you!”
The voice startled her, and she turned to see a beaming sales associate standing far too close, her hands clasped together in what could only be described as reverence.
“Perhaps,” she murmured, slipping the dress back onto the rack and moving on, feigning disinterest.
The problem wasn’t finding something she liked—there was plenty. It was the constant awareness that her choices were being watched, judged. Every instinct told her to pick something bold, something that felt like herself. But she couldn’t. Adelaide wouldn’t look twice at half the items that caught her eye, and she couldn’t risk seeming… off.
Still, as the staff flitted around her, eagerly offering suggestions and trailing her every step, she couldn’t help but feel boxed in. She wasn’t just shopping; she was playing a part, and every decision felt like a test she couldn’t afford to fail.
From there, she wandered into a section of the mall dedicated to casual wear. This store had a different vibe—still upscale but far less formal, with neatly arranged racks of cashmere sweaters, tailored jeans, and buttery-soft leather jackets. The atmosphere was inviting in its understated elegance, and she found herself gravitating toward a soft cream sweater that practically begged to be touched. She paired it with a pair of high-waisted jeans that looked like they’d hug every curve just right.
“Miss Whitlock, do you need assistance with sizing?”
The store manager’s voice carried a distinct undertone of worry, as though she genuinely believed Nina might collapse if left unsupervised.
“No, thank you,” she replied, offering a polite, tight-lipped smile. Inside, though, she was screaming. Was this concern genuine or just an attempt to stay in Adelaide’s favor? Either way, it was exhausting.
She lingered here longer than she’d planned, picking out a handful of essentials. Casual dresses, soft loungewear—things she thought she’d need since she’d be spending at least a month confined to the mansion.
Next, she found herself in a boutique dedicated to shoes—every woman’s dream and, apparently, every salesperson’s nightmare when it came to Adelaide Whitlock. The shelves were lined with pointed stilettos, sleek block heels, and a pair of nude pumps so effortlessly chic they practically screamed “power move.”
Before she could even bend down to examine a pair, an attendant materialized at her side, stool in hand.
“Miss Whitlock, please, allow us to bring the shoes to you. There’s no need for you to strain yourself.”
Strain herself? She almost laughed out loud but thought better of it. Instead, she sat obediently and let them fuss over her, pulling out pair after pair as though she were royalty. As much as their fawning made her want to roll her eyes, she couldn’t help but notice how perfectly they anticipated her every need. It was all a bit much—whether genuine or an act of obsequiousness, she couldn’t tell—but either way, it felt suffocating.
By the time she reached the accessories store, she was thoroughly drained. Still, the staff here didn’t miss a beat, presenting jeweled necklaces, delicate gold cuffs, and structured leather handbags with almost reverent care. She finally settled on a minimalist gold bracelet—simple, elegant, and something she figured both Adelaide and she could appreciate.
When she was done, two boutique staff members hurried ahead of her, their arms laden with shopping bags, ready to deposit everything neatly into the car. She should’ve followed them, called it a day, and headed back to the mansion, but the thought of sealing herself inside that gilded cage so soon made her skin crawl.
Instead, she took her time, strolling through the mall and soaking it all in. She ventured into every section that caught her eye, marveling at the craftsmanship of the displays, the architectural details, and the sheer opulence of it all.
For a moment, she allowed herself to just be—to forget about Adelaide, the expectations, and the ever-present eyes watching her. It was indulgent, fleeting, and exactly what she needed before facing the confinement of the Whitlock estate once again.
At one point, she felt an overwhelming urge to visit the restroom, but she knew it had to be a private one—something exclusive and meant for the Whitlock family. There had to be one. She was aware that she couldn’t share a public restroom, not while pretending to be Adelaide. But asking the boutique staff would only raise questions, and she couldn’t risk looking suspicious. So, she decided to find it on her own.
If such a restroom existed, instinct told her it would be on the upper floor—out of reach for the general public. With that thought in mind, she set off, trying to move purposefully, as though she already knew where she was headed.
The moment she reached the upper floor, her search was interrupted. Her eyes landed on someone moving quickly, their pace brisk and deliberate. Sean.
It wouldn’t have registered at all if the space had been crowded, but up here, it wasn’t. The quietness made him stand out. She stopped in her tracks, her curiosity instantly piqued.
From the look on his face and the urgency in his stride, he was clearly on a mission. Whatever it was, it had to be important.
She noticed how every staff member who passed simply bowed without a word, their heads lowered in deference. Not one of them questioned her presence here. It was clear they were used to seeing Adelaide wander these halls, which gave her a strange sort of confidence.
Her mission to find the restroom faded into the background. Something about Sean’s demeanor tugged at her, a magnetic pull she couldn’t resist. Without thinking twice, she changed direction and began following him, keeping her steps light and her distance just wide enough to stay unnoticed.