Power was a game, and they’d forgotten to look for the man who played it differently.
My gaze drifted over the crowd, lingering on their perfect lives. Perfect lies wrapped in wealth. Pearls. Laughter. Gentle hands brushing champagne flutes. Everyone pretended the world bent around them, when in reality it was the shadows like me who called the shots.
Then I saw her.
Gold blonde hair caught in the lantern glow, smoky gaze drifting over the party like she smelled the rot underneath the sweetness. She was beautiful in a way that wasn’t forced.
It was real.
She didn’t know she was mine yet. She refused to acknowledge the pull that caught us, sharp and certain. But I felt it. I surrendered to that eternal certainty sliding into place with the weight of destiny.
I’ve waited for you.
For so long, it seemed that was all I knew. But the time was fast coming when that chapter shifted. Waiting was about to become having. The rough skin on the pads of my fingers tingled with the idea of reaching out and touching her openly.
Let them keep their pretended perfection. Let them toast to futures built on money and family names. I wasn’t here to join the groom’s dinner.
I was here to take what was mine.
The time wasn’t quite right, but I saw a move on the chessboard, and I was taking my shot. Taking it before something far worse happened.
Amanda moved to stand beside her fiancé. If she seemed zoned out, if her smile looked forced, that was because it was. No one noticed. This was where a Loring girl belonged after all, and they accepted her presence, forcing her to endure in the mockery of the moment.
If she looked defeated, that was because she thought she had been. I knew what I’d done was unforgivable. But she wouldn’t have listened. Amanda wanted to be in that courtroom, participating in the trial.
What she didn’t know was that I’d probably saved her life, certainly saved her legal reputation. The opposition was prepared to play dirty, and I refused to let Amanda get hurt in the crossfire.
Did that justify my actions? No. But having her sleep through the second day of trial was the best way to make sure she was permanently off the case.
I’ll make it up to you. I swear it.
The happy couple left the garden to the toasts of the crowd. Such a fucking gentleman, her fiancé walked her home on the eve of their wedding. I slithered behind them, letting the dark of night hide me and the sound of the surf cover my approach.
A half mile shouldn’t have been a long walk.
But the way Amanda’s shoulders slumped told me she was exhausted. Nearly broken. She fought hard for this worthless future. I wanted to show her that this path she was on was wrong for her. Even if she didn’t choose me—a fate I fought against with every breath in my body—she couldn’t have him. The snot nosed brat wasn’t a good man.
And yet, she won’t believe me if I tell her the truth.
No, I had to force that confession from another. Capture it to show her the vices of her world and prove once and for all that everything she did was for a false future.
In front of the beach entrance to the private mansion the Lorings rented, the couple stopped. I crouched in the sand, fisting my hands over my knees. Knowing what was coming didn’t help. Didn’t lessen the blow.
The British prick pulled Amanda into his arms. She draped hers over his neck. Their lips pressed together.
Cazzo!
I swallowed a bellow of rage. My molars threatened to crack from the pressure. It didn’t help that I’d seen dogs lick their butts better than those two kissed. I hated every second of it.
The moment the madness was over, Amanda untangled herself, went to the beach gate, and slipped up the path to the mansion.
The Brit turned around and began walking toward me.
I rose from the shadows. Stepped into his path. And smiled.
“Hey!” The Brit pulled up short. “I know you.”
The knife was in my hand a second later. “Good, we can skip the introductions.”
