No threat.
No guilt.
It settled sticky in my gut. Tansy Crowne didn’t give up. She didn’t concede.
“Mom,” I said as she started to leave.
She stopped for a moment, then continued without looking back.
Downstairs in the ballroom, I stared at the wedding portrait of my mother and father, lined up with a series of similar Crowne wedding portraits.
Today’s anniversary party was to celebrate the long lineage of Crowne marriages.
I couldn’t find it in me to laugh at the irony as I studied the line of portraits dating back to before the Romanovs fell. All had the same cold melancholy painted into the oil.
My mother’s first love died. Then my father.
My father never loved her, and she was never able to love the one who did.
Maybe in her own twisted way, these rules were meant to protect us.
“I thought you were taken now.” The guy I was supposed to be paying attention to took a sip of his whiskey.
I turned away from the portraits and affected myGemma Crownesmile. “Oh, you know the tabloids. They’ll say anything.”
I lightly touched his shoulder, laughing.
Flirt, laugh. Flirt, laugh. Nothing had changed.
I was still in a too tight, too expensive dress designed not for my comfort, but strangers’ opinions. I was still in my house, still smiling demurely at men whose names I couldn’t remember.
“If I was taken, could I do this?” I ran a hand up and down his arm.
It was supposed to be different.I was supposed to have broken the five-year loop. I let anger burn my throat, rather than taste bitter disappointment.
At least this I could control.
The way his eyes grew at my suggestion, the way he practically panted. Yeah, I could control that.
My insides felt like they were locked inside a soundproof box.
He looked around the ballroom. “Do you want to get out of here?”
I didn’t know anything about him, didn’t even know his name. Did it matter? I was no more real to him.
“Maybe—”
Over the guy’s shoulder, I saw him. His body was shadowed in the dark of the hallway, but still unmistakablyhim.
My heart throbbed in my throat. He wouldn’t be here, not during a party. He only came with shadows and secrets.
You brought the Reaper into your pretty little world, and I’m gonna tear it the fuck apart.
I plastered a smile, focusing on the man in front of me. “Upstairs. After the party.”
Grim walked into the room. His black jeans and hoodie at odds with the glittery dresses and pressed suits. Despite that, he walked with a swagger that only came from owning everything and everyone in the room.
The conversation changed to hushed whispers as heads turned to watch Grim. All except my mom, who stared at me.
