Bitch.
Matthias’s gaze catches mine, and his smile falters for a second, no doubt catching the sadness lingering in my eyes, before it’s gone.
“Come on,” Leon whispers in my ear. “Don’t pay attention to them. It’s just a show.”
“Some show,” I mutter as we join the line of wealthy patrons seeking entrance to the grand gala.
“Remember,” Leon keeps his voice low as he smiles at the crowd of onlookers, “look for anyone you recognize as having done deals with Elias. This is where the big money plays, and there’s a good chance one of the people here is funding Christian.”
I nod as we hand over our invitations, entering the fancy lobby of the swanky downtown hotel. The ceiling is curved, dotted with recessed lights on either side of the large skylight windows that line it. The room has a purple hue to it; the light casting a gentle glow off the purple painted walls and carpet woven with gold geometric octagons.
The ballroom is cast in darker tones—aged wood and walls painted in a deep mauve. A large strip of balcony overlooks the massive space from either side, and against the far wall, set in the center, is a recessed stage with a string quartet playing an elegant, haunting tune.
Waitstaff circle the room carrying silver trays of champaign and hors d’oeuvres of varying tastes. Leon grabs two glasses ofthe champagne: Armand de Brignac, a brut rosé. The seductive notes of soft spice, red currants, and sweet almonds sweep across my tongue, causing my palate to come alive.
Too bad I down it like a shot of tequila.
Such a waste.
Everything is too grand and over the top. Almost fake. Like a show or a play. I guess that’s what everyone is doing, putting on a show.
I let my gaze linger on Matthias as he flashes a smile to an elderly couple with Serena hanging on his arm; he knows exactly how to play to the audience.
The pain in my chest grows, my heart growing cold and bitter as I continue to watch the two of them flit around the room. That is never going to be us. Besides at Clover, he never once showed an interest in me while we were in public. Not before he called me a traitor and certainly not after.
He used me, and now he’s through with me.
If we didn’t need this mission to go well, I would have already walked out and left. If it had just been about Matthias, I wouldn’t have looked back, but it isn’t. It’s about Libby and Kenzi. It’s about my mother, because whoever this mystery benefactor is, he has something to do with her kidnapping.
“Ye know, if you watch them any harder, they might spontaneously combust,” Seamus chuckles on my right. I’ve been so caught up in my abject misery, I don’t hear him approach.
“Maybe that’s my plan.” I shrug a shoulder. “Where have you been? Liam said you’d be out of range for a few days.”
“Had a few things to clean up,” Seamus mutters. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“This have to do with Jimmy’s knife attack?”
“Something like that.” He empties his glass of champagne. “Fuck, this is why Kier and I opened a nightclub. This place is gawdier than Narcissus’s ass.”
I’m not sure what I find funnier. The fact that he sounds like a petulant child or that he’s properly referenced a mythological person’s ass. Whichever it is, I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of his statement. A few heads turn my way, brows crunched in distaste, but I pay them no mind.
“It wasn’t that funny,” Seamus scolds, but he’s smiling too.
“After the day I’ve had, it sure is.”
“Well, let’s see if we can make it better.” Liam comes to stand to one side of me, holding out a champagne glass. I take it with thanks as he takes my empty one and sets it on a passing tray. “Come with me.”
Taking Liam’s offered arm, he leads me around the room, my eyes sweeping over a sea of faces, most of whom I don’t recognize. We don’t stop to talk to anyone; he just keeps moving until we circle back to where we start.
“We’ll make another round in a moment and start up some easy conversation,” he tells me.
“And what are you going to introduce me as?” I ask curiously, a bitter note seeping through, unintended. It isn’t his fault that Matthias doesn’t want anyone to know I’m his wife, but now I wonder if Liam wants to introduce me as his daughter.
Maybe something is wrong with me.
“My daughter, of course.” The lines on his forehead crease as he looks down at me, puzzled. “What else would I introduce you as?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you wanted people to know…” I let the statement hang, trying to act aloof, like I don’t care if he claims me or not.
