I blink. “Is that a threat?”
“I’m not going to lie to your brother, Evie,” he frowns. “I can’t.”
“Val,please,” I beg. “I just… I want to tell him on my own terms.”
He exhales. “I understand. But if he asks before you're ready…” He looks at me ruefully. “I love you, Evie.” He shrugs wryly. “But I love Roman more.”
“Yeah, no…” I nod. “I get it.”
Val groans. “Okay, how about this: if he asks, I’m not going to lie.But, I won’t proactively tell him.” He levels a look at me. “Youneedto talk to him, though. I’m serious.”
“Thank you,” I exhale. “And I really will talk to him.”
Val nods and then looks away, raking his fingers through his shaggy hair again before he turns back to me. “Be careful, Eves,” he says quietly. “You don’t know what Vaughn’s capable of.”
“I—”
“No. Whatever you think you know, believe me, it’s not even half,” he says, his voice edged. “Trust me on that, okay? I love my brother…” His throat bobs. “But he’s fuckingdangerous, and whatever is broken inside him is not anything you, or I, or anyone else should eventhinkabout trying to fix. You get what I’m saying?”
I nod. Then my brow furrows. “Hey, Val?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we…I mean… Are you and I okay?”
He sighs. “Yeaaaah, I guess.” He lifts his eyes to me, smirking. “I mean, Ididfuck your brother first.”
I spotthe black SUV waiting by the curb when I exit the alley behind the Mercury Theater with Val. But I wait until we've hugged goodbye and he's jogged off before I turn to it.
Vaughn opens the back door and steps out, impeccably dressed in a dark suit that fits him perfectly.
“Hi,” I say, feeling my cheeks heat as I smile. “Are you my ride?”
“Indeed,” he murmurs. “Your bags are packed and in the trunk, and I've got your passport.”
My brow furrows. “Mypassport? I thought you said this morning we were going to a ball.”
Vaughn slides his hand over my hip and pulls me close.
“Oh, we are,” he murmurs, looking deep into my eyes. “But the ball is in Paris.”
29
VAUGHN
The masquerade ballis really just an excuse to bring people of power in my world together. Everyone dresses up, arrives in fancy cars at the opulent Château de Villargent in Neuilly-sur-Seine just west of Paris, drinks expensive champagne, and then makes multi-billion-dollar deals in backrooms and boardrooms.
Sometimes in bedrooms, too.
Everyone’s reason to be here is self-serving, mine included. Tonight, after months of dancing around each other, I’m going to be sitting down with the enigmatic Xavier d’Auvrelle, head of theverypowerful d’Auvrelle family.
There are crime families and then there are crimedynasties. Evelina’s family, like most bratva families, is the former. Even the ones founded decades ago in the Cold War years or even earlier during both World Warspalein comparison to the sheer history wrapped around some of the old families of Europe.
The Torvallés family, for instance, goes all the way back to the Spanish Inquisition. The Syndicate, before it was what it’s beenfor the last two centuries, was once an assassins' guild called “la fraternité d'obsidienne” and was active duringThe Crusades.
The d’Auvrelle family, meanwhile, can trace itself all the way back to Phillip II, the first to adopt the title “King of France”.
So…to say the guest list at Château de Villargent tonight is full of powerful people is like saying Mount Everest is “a charming little hill”.
