Discretion (The Dumonts) by Karina Halle

Author:Karina Halle [Halle, Karina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542008532
Published: 2019-08-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

OLIVIER

“Going for the Phantom of the Opera look, are we?”

I glance at Blaise as I pass by him in the hallway. He’s been taking the invitations from the guests, and I’m surprised he didn’t badger me for one.

“You know, the Phantom doesn’t have a monopoly on white masks,” I point out and then gesture to Blaise’s own face, which is covered by a red velvet mask with golden sequins at the edges. “It looks like you stole that mask off a showgirl from the Moulin Rouge.”

“Very funny,” he says. “You know, the Phantom knew a thing about branding himself. Perhaps you should take some of that inspiration.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means the Olivier Dumont brand is nonexistent,” he says with a calm shrug, a look of disdain in his eyes as they rake over me. “Always the same, the typical billionaire hotelier playboy.”

“Better that than the guy who drives a fucking red Ferrari with a matching showgirl mask.”

“At least I’m known for something,” he says, and then his attention is torn away to a masked couple coming across the moat bridge with their invitations out.

Right. The moat.

You see, the ball is almost always held at one of the vineyards we own. We’ve had it at one of my hotels once or twice—actually, the Hôtel Rouge Royale where I met Sadie the other night—but my father has always insisted that it’s more of a special event when it’s somewhere outside the city.

In this case, it’s far outside the city.

We’re at the Château la Tour Carnet winery, one of those that Renaud operates from afar, which is not only located all the way in Bordeaux but is in an actual castle. It’s a small castle, but a castle all the same, complete with a moat, a drawbridge, and groomed grounds filled with peacocks and swans. The peacocks are beautifully cared for, and there’s even a rare white one. The swans are evil creatures who love to terrorize any guests who wander from the back terrace.

On the first floor of the castle, there’s a medieval room filled with old knights’ armor, weapons, and rare books and tapestries, as well as a few other little rooms that have been transformed into coatrooms and champagne stations for the party. Upstairs, the long dining hall and music room have been transformed into the dance floor and main party areas, while the study and bedrooms are off-limits. Then there’s the kitchen, where numerous chefs and waiters are creating amuse-bouches and drinks, and a long spiral staircase to the very top, where guests love to lean out the windows and listen to the band assembled on the terrace below.

It’s extravagant, with every single inch of the castle transformed to celebrate the upcoming fashion week and the autumn launch—but, of course, everything is gaudy and luxurious in the fashion world. People have come from all over—from New York, London, and Dubai—all fighting to get an invite to this very famous, very exclusive event.

But there’s one guest who didn’t have to try at all.

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