Only for her would I prove myself to be a different man than the one who had hurt her.
“I didn’t,” she said through clenched teeth.
“You did. You were scared. You’re terrified now. Deny it and lie to me.”
“I didn’t!” Her eyes were hard on mine and her chest moved as though she had run a marathon. “And even if I did, you put the fear in me. You sent me away!”
The dual cruxes of her insecurities were hidden away in one locked box, a box that I had picked open because she refused me the key—her father’s affairs and her mother constantly sending her away.
I let go of her arm, making a complete circle, not sure how to respond without first taking action. My fists through stone seemed tempting. I ran a crazed hand through my hair. “You’re going to fucking listento me. And you’ll believe me.”
The door to the balcony opened, a few guests started to trickle out, keeping to their own conversations. More guests had taken to the ballroom, bodies lining the many windowpanes, faces looking out. Fireworks.
“Not here,” she said, turning from me. “Not now. Besides, I have something to show you first.”
Chapter Twelve
Brando
Maggie Beautiful rarely gave me advice that stuck, but I had come to find that one out of a hundred made it to bone.
Always listen to your gut instinct.You’re Italian. We’re born with an extra sense. We know when people are trying to get over on us, especially when it comes to money. Or when the person trying to sell us something is untrustworthy. Or when it’s time to save your own ass and get out.
It could have been the presence of her pointe shoes, or the fact that she made Violet cut her dress up to her thigh, but I should have paid attention to the warning and forced her out of the fucking car and back into the apartment.
Silence found me on the ride. The city of Paris passed by in a blur. Conversation hummed. Nigel’sI see him in youand Scarlett’sI have to show you something firstrepeated over and over, neither fighting for space, both just going around and around in a haunting dance of thoughts.
All background noise to the warning.
Our ending destination wasLa Lumière Rouge. I didn’t speak French or understand most of it, but I understood without the need of a translator that the restaurant reflected its name. The entire place was bathed in the glow of a sensual red light.
The silence in the car followed us out into the night and continued as our entire group entered the restaurant. This silence was due to Scarlett’s entrance. She stood stone-faced, eyes fixed straight ahead. Though every head turned in her direction, all eyes alight with recognition, she seemed not to see them or take notice. She seemed to be waiting for someone else.
Someone else came in the form of a server who bowed to her before leading us to a secret room behind the kitchen. We stepped into a pool of red light, the rest of the room black.
Violet jumped in the air, slapping a hand to her heart, when another man slid out of the shadows and bowed to her. He lifted a silver box up for her to examine.
Mick placed his head in front of Violet’s, checking out its contents before she had the chance to. Rows of masks were laid out against velvet. Violet glanced at Scarlett, who nodded, before she chose one made of diamonds and pearls.
Before Scarlett could choose, the server retreated back into the shadows and returned with masks for Mick and me. Mick’s was all black. Mine was white and made my face look severed in half. The broken pieces were jagged and had thin black lines where the cracks ran deep.
Scarlett’s came in its own box, a special delivery of swan feathers, diamond-encrusted eyes, and an onyx on each temple. She turned to me, a silent question—she wanted me to secure the back.
The server bowed to her again once she was sufficiently hidden, calling herDanse de Damebefore another door opened, leading us to an identical room. Violet’s eyes searched the shadows, preparing for another surprise. When the next man appeared, she still jumped. The newest server carried a tray of glowing green drinks.
Violet looked at Mick, Mick looked at me, I looked at Scarlett. She took hers without hesitation.
My eyes narrowed in suspicion and I took the drink from her hand before it touched her parted lips. Anise surged up my nose when I inhaled.
“Aucun pour lui,” Scarlett said to the server, nodding in my direction.
Even behind the mask, I could tell whatever she had said confused him. He handed her another drink and went to take the one I took from her.
“No,” I said, daring him. “If I don’t get to drink, we’re all leaving.”
Scarlett considered this for a moment. She raised her glass in agreement. I drained mine, Scarlett not too far behind with hers, and Mick and Violet were still sipping theirs as another door opened and we filed out. Scarlett was in the lead.
A cool rush of air surged forward, the smell of burning gasoline and things that had been buried for much too long carried on its breath. We were being led down a winding stone staircase. The closest thing to a railing was a jagged rock wall lined with torches, their fiery tongues licking the dampness.
