And I'm going to fight like hell to make sure we both survive it.
Because, to echo her words, whether I deserve it or not.
We just found it.
* * *
Chapter Eleven (Revised)
PEYTON
I glance at myself in the mirror and have to smile. My mother's dress serves as a weapon disguised as evening wear. I knew I picked it for a reason.
Black silk that clings to every curve, a neckline that's just shy of scandalous, a slit up the thigh that will make movement easy if things go sideways.
"You look dangerous," Talia says, fastening the clasp at my neck. "And fucking hot." She's already dressed in a deep emerald gown that complements her rich olive skin tone, compliments of her Delano ancestry. "That's good. You need to look like someone they want to fuck but not fuck with. That's a woman's superpower in this place."
"I just hope I'm not dressing for my own funeral,” I quip.
"No more talk of death. My brother doesn't die, he destroys. You're dressing for war. There's a difference." She pulls a large item out of her oversized Birkin handbag. "Your mother owned some stunning pieces, but I brought you some things I think you should wear instead, compliments of John the jeweler."
Talia reveals a two-drawer velvet jewelry case. The first drawer houses a pair of tasteful diamond clip-on earrings that are actually recording devices. "These will capture everything within a fifteen-foot radius."
“Really? Wow."
Then she opens the second drawer and reveals a dramatic Y-shaped diamond-and-emerald necklace. A single teardrop-shaped emerald falls between my cleavage.
“Is this real?" I ask.
"This was a last-minute job for John, so he had to use lab-grown stones, but the metal is genuine platinum."
"I don't understand how you even thought of creating something like this."
“I’ve had to spy on a few clients in my day. Delanos fight dirty, so John is my guy who can make sophisticated hybrid pieces of stones and tech.”
“Impressive.”
“Honestly, it's something a kid could do if he ordered the right stuff from Amazon and had a week to figure it out, but I’m glad you like them. I know they weren’t part of your outfit plan, but you can wear your Mom’s jewelry at your next gala.” Talia smiles. “One not so dangerous.”
“Thank you.” I take another moment to admire the piece in the mirror. It's gorgeous, especially with the dress.
"The necklace has a panic button. Press the clasp three times fast, and both Blake and I get an alert. And these—" She holds up black stilettos. "Are mine tonight. I wish I could have had some made for you, but it was too short notice. The left heel has a blade. Twist counterclockwise and pull. The right has a GPS tracker that can't be disabled without destroying the shoe itself.”
“Wow, I once joked to myself that you and your brother were like superheroes, but now I realize that was no exaggeration. You came prepared."
"I've been preparing for a clusterfuck like this since I was sixteen and realized my family was built on blood money and lies." Talia's expression hardens. "I just never thought I'd be doing it side-by-side with Blake.”
“Why not? He’s probably the best person to have by your side when shit hits the fan.”
“Puh-lease,” she uses an exaggerated tone. “He’s left me alone in Wintervale three times, you know.” She counts them down on her fingers. “First, he went to college. Then he went to work for Silas. And finally, he did some defiant shit against Silas and had to leave town, leaving me alone yet again."
"But he came back, Talia. He always came back.”
“Not for me."
“Your brother adores you.”
"He might, but I'm not the reason why he came home, and I'm definitely not the reason why he's staying." She studies me in the mirror, and there's something like approval in her eyes. "You're good for him, Peyton. You challenge him in a way no other woman would dare to. You make him want things out of life. He’s staying because you’re here. Period.”
