"Sutherland!" Another voice.
Geoffrey this time.
Inner circle member.
Owns a media empire.
Sixties, overweight, perpetually red-faced from too much scotch. "Good to see you, good to see you. And this must be your lovely acquisition."
He's already reaching for Eden before I can stop him. Takes her free hand and brings it to his lips.
I see red.
"Let go of her." My voice is deadly quiet.
"What? I'm just being polite?—"
"Let. Go. Of. Her."
Something in my tone makes him release her hand. Step back slightly. "My goodness. You are possessive. Victor mentioned it but I didn't believe?—"
"She's mine. Not yours. Not anyone else's. Mine. And if you touch her again, I'll break every bone in your hand. Are we clear?"
Geoffrey's face goes even redder. "There's no need for threats. I was simply?—"
"Are we clear?"
"Yes. Fine. Clear." He backs away, disappearing into the crowd.
Eden is staring at me. "You really would have done it."
"Yes."
"Why? He was just—he barely touched me?—"
"Because you'remine. Because no one gets to touch you without permission. Because—" I stop. Lower my voice so only she can hear. "Because I love you. And the thought of anyone else touching you makes me want to spill their blood on the floor."
Her eyes are wide. Shining. "We're really doing this."
"Yes."
"We're really going to reject them. All of them. All of this."
"Yes."
"And then what?"
"Then we leave. Together. And we never look back."
A bell chimes. Crystal and clear. Cutting through the conversation.
Victor's voice carries across the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll proceed to the showcase hall. The presentations will begin momentarily."
This is it.
This is the moment.
I take Eden's hand. "Ready?"
