Shocked gasps ring out around the room as Charlie leads us forward. I don’t know where Kai is, but I feel his eyes burning a hole in my back as we walk along the red carpet, greeting our guests.
“You are my every dream brought to life, Abby,” Kai whispers through my earpiece. “You are exquisite. I could live a thousand lifetimes and never be worthy of your heart.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong.
That it’s I who would never be worthy of him, but I can’t speak because it’s too dangerous.
We continue down the line, proceeding slowly, shaking hands, and accepting congratulations. My handshake is firm, my smile is wide, and my eyes meet every stranger dead on. Apart from my friends, hidden around the room, I know none of these people. I don’t know who is a potential ally or who is a foe.
Eventually, the procession ends, and we make our way to the head table. It’s strategically positioned close to the stage, so we have an excellent view of all of tonight’s entertainment, with the small dance floor at our rear. At least that’s what I told the planner. Truth is, it’s close to the side door that leads to the back area, and it’ll make it easier to slip through to the bastard’s office later.
This is a much larger, circular table, for family and close friends only, so I’m instantly aggrieved when I spot Father leading Kai and Giselle, Atticus and some blonde, and Rick and Isabella toward us.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Charlie hisses under his breath as he holds my chair out for me.
“I’d like to know too,” I murmur, gripping the armrests of my chair painfully. This was already going to be difficult without having to face my love across a table while I’m pretending to be in love with the man who thinks he’s my husband.
How the fuck did I end up here? Seriously. My life is one epic clusterfuck after another.
Dinner is a tedious affair. But at least the loud entertainment means there is minimal opportunity to talk. The orchestra is booked to play throughout our meal, which means conversation is limited to the person directly beside you.
I work hard not to look at Kai, sneaking the odd glance when no one is looking. Giselle is doing her best to drape herself around him, but he keeps removing her hands, pinning her with a dark glare. Alessandra is making minimal effort to talk to Drew, and he looks happy about that fact. Isabella is spending more time fawning over my father, instead of paying attention to Rick, much to Patrice’s disgust.
Father is quietly seething.
Oh, he looks like he’s having the time of his life, stuck between two women fighting for his affections, but the murderous looks he shoots my way, when he thinks no one notices, say otherwise.
Along the other side of the table, Sylvia is knocking back champagne like it’s water, while Trent glares at me instead of paying attention to his fiancée. Shandra shoots me alarmed looks every so often, and the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I take a tiny sip of my champagne, only to look polite. I’m not risking drinking because it’s too fucking dangerous to let my guard down around here.
Even Atticus, who is usually so arrogantly assured, looks on edge, smiling weakly at whatever his date is saying. The only two people who look at ease at our table are Denton Mathers—Alessandra and Isabella’s father—and Christian Montgomery. Deep in conversation, they are ignoring their wives, having swapped seats, and their heads are huddled together.
Kai spots where my attention has wandered. “They are up to something,” he whispers. I subtly nod. “I’ll keep eyes on them.”
As if they heard us, both men pick their heads up at the same time, pinning wicked eyes on me. All the tiny hairs on the back of my neck lift, and I shiver uncontrollably.
“Cold, darling?” Charlie says, pressing his mouth close to my ear as he circles his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in closer.
“Nervous,” I say, smiling shyly at him, while trying to ignore the eyeballs latched to my back. Kai is suspiciously quiet. “It’s a lot to take in. Although,” I say, lowering my voice as I look over my shoulder. “I’m surprised there are no girls in cages. What happened to the stalls at the end of the room?”
Charlie presses his mouth closer to my ear. “Your father wouldn’t risk having that on display tonight. There are too many outsiders here.” He trails his fingers up my arm. “He moved the action to the private corridor over on the other side of the room. Only elite with the code can access it. You’ll notice people slipping out of the room after dinner, and that’s why.” His warm breath fans over my face, but I just feel cold all the way through to my bones. “Whatever you do, do not go near that side of the dungeon.”
“It’s time,” Jacqueline—the wedding planner—says, coming up behind me. “Are you sure you still want to dance to this piece?”
“Absolutely.” I stand with a flourish, holding my hand out for Charlie.
I know he’s a good dancer, because we were all made to take lessons years ago, and it’s just as well because this song isn’t going to be easy to slow dance to.
The orchestra kicks off, and Charlie sweeps me into his arms, twirling me out into the center of the dance floor. People get up from their tables, surrounding the floor, watching us. I feel the heated eyes and lustful looks from several of the men, and a shudder works its way through me. Charlie plants his arm around my lower back, pulling me in close to his body as he directs our moves. He’s a smooth dancer, and we glide naturally across the dancefloor.
“What song is this?” he asks as he twirls me around.
“It’s called “The Rains of Castamere.” It’s from the red wedding in theGame of Thrones,” I innocently explain, knowing he has no clue because he’s vocal in his dislike of the popular show.
“Ah,” he says, “I see. That’s where you got the red theme from?”
“Sort of.” I bury my face in his shirt to hide my smirk. Little does he know the red wedding was a blood bath with few making it out alive. I thought I was being tongue in cheek choosing this music for our first dance, but as my fake husband twirls me around the dance floor, and I feel the dark heat from copious sets of eyes, I wonder if it isn’t ominous.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
