“What. The. Fuck.” I breathe quietly. Then, so Ezra can hear me, I ask, “How much has he had to drink already?”
“A fair amount,” Ezra admits, his jaw tight. “And he’s been looking forward to this.”
“Looking forward to what?” I ask, suspicion tightening in my chest.
Ezra sighs. “Seeing how you handle yourself tonight. You’re the heir apparent, Leanna.”
I blink at him. “So…none of this is a surprise?”
“Not at all, and I’m fine,” Ezra says. “But Vince is…”
“Fuck,” I say.
“Yeah. Just…be careful.”
I want to tell him to maybe have my back for once. He’s always been easier to deal with than Vince, who’s always been jealous, violent, and power hungry. But he’s also always let Vince bully me. He’s never stepped in to stop him.
Before I can respond to his warning, a young man approaches us. He’s tall and lanky. A flop of dark hair falls onto his forehead.
“I’m Trace Webster,” he says, holding out a hand for me to shake.
“Oh,” I say, shaking his hand. “I’m Leanna. This is my brother Ezra.”
“I know who you are,” he says, addressing me and ignoring Ezra.
Of course he does. He’s in the dossier my father prepared for me. One of my potential matches. Barf.
“I thought maybe I could request your first dance tonight, after dinner? I figure there will be a long line, so I wanted to be the first to ask.”
I can’t help but smile at him. There’s an earnest quality to the question that pleases me. I’m in no way interested, but I do know that the act of dancing with another man is likely to incense Nikolai even further, so I accept and tell him to find me once the band starts.
“What a nerd,” my brother comments.
“He seems…Nice,” I say.
26
LEANNA
The chimes ring,signaling it’s time to take our seats.
Still no sign of Nik. My eyes scan the room as we make our way to our table. Everyone sits with their own families, neatly grouped, as if this is truly a civilized affair. A night of solidarity for leaders who spend the rest of the year at each other’s throats over money, turf, and ever-shifting alliances.
And then I spot him.
He’s in a tuxedo, the one I know for damn sure wasn’t hanging in the closet this morning. And he’s devastatingly sizzled in it. The sharp line of his jaw glints with a shadow of stubble, his dark hair slicked back just enough to look dangerous.
My heart stutters, and I’m clenching my thighs beneath the table.
Because I know what it feels like when that beard scrapes the tender skin of my inner thighs. The way pleasure and pain blur together under his mouth.
Nik is a master of both.
And tonight, I don’t know which version of him I’ll face.
“Leanna?” My father’s voice pulls me back.
I turn and see him looking at me expectantly. “Oh, sorry,” I say, forcing a smile. “Long day. What was it, Dad?”
