I don’t fight as Taylor pulls me after him toward the ballroom. When we enter, he tucks me into his side as if he’s simply helping me along—as if he doesn’t have a gun shoved against my ribcage.
A round of applause begins for whatever speaker is taking the stage, but the eyes of every attendee turn toward Taylor and me as we cross the room. But it’s not the eyes of the guests that has my stomach in knots, it’s Asher’s eyes when they meet mine.
They aren’t happy or welcoming.
No, they’re filled with shock and confusion. He subtly shakes his head, and it hits me.
I’m not meant to be here.
He isn’t expecting me.
Whatever voicemail Jenkins got, it wasn’t Asher that left it. It wasn’t Asher who sent the jet to pick us up.
Fuck.
“Mr. Langford,” Taylor says as we arrive at his table. “I have a delivery for you.” Taylor pushes me into an empty seat next toAsher; the place card says it’s meant to be Asher’s grandmother’s seat.
Taylor stands between the two of us and leans down so that both Asher and I can hear him as he speaks.
“Yegor sends his regards. You shouldn’t be surprised to know that the new security you hired for the event works for him. Since he hasn’t been able to get you on speaking terms, he’s brought those speaking terms to you. There are snipers stationed in this room and outside along the procession, and they are ordered to keep their rifles aimed at Ms. Hale. If you don’t cooperate, if either of you breathe in a way Yegor disapproves of, Ms. Hale here will be taken care of swiftly.”
Asher says nothing, but he nods curtly in understanding.
“Good. Enjoy the program. Yegor will speak to you at some point so that the two of you can come to an agreement. If you don’t accept his terms, Ms. Hale will pay the price.”
Taylor stalks off, and I reach for my watch and hit the panic button three times in quick succession. I don’t know if it will help at this point, but I don’t know what else to do.
With the eyes of the guests on us, Asher kisses me quickly on the cheek and turns his attention forward, pretending to pay attention to the Master of Ceremony who welcomes the guests.
“How did you get here?” he asks in a low voice, not looking at me.
“Jenkins said he got a voicemail from you ordering us here.”
“I didn’t call Jenkins, and I sure as hell didn’t leave him a voicemail.”
“I know that now. It was a different jet and crew that met us at the airport, but they seemed to follow all the typical protocol and said the Langford jet was flying Sterling, so we didn’t think anything of it. He’s . . . oh god, he’s dead now. Jenkins.” I swallow hard and take a breath to keep from hyperventilating. I can’t keep from replaying the scene in my mind. Jenkins’s look of annoyance that flashed into fear and surprise when he sawthe gun. The bullet piercing his flesh. The blood. “That man, T-Taylor, killed him as soon as we got here. And another man has Flores. She’s in danger.”
“I’ll let Robert know,” he whispers back. “But our priority is figuring out what the hell is going on.”
The audience claps, and it pulls me back to our surroundings. Asher and I clap as well, and I force a smile as I fight back tears and try to keep my panic at bay.
“What are we going to do, Asher?” I ask when the next speaker begins.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“How many new security officers did you hire?”
“Fifty.”
“How many of your regular men are here?”
“Twenty.”
Shit.
Asher and I do our best to smile and fake it through the program. Neither of us touches our food or drink, and no matter how much I try, I can’t stop my hands from shaking. It’s clear from the rigid postures of Declan, Sterling, Harrington, and Catherine, that they know something is going on. I do my best to look like I’m paying attention, though, I only hear bits and pieces of what’s said.
Edward seems to have been an incredible man; the man that changed the way the Langford family operates. The first man in over a century to admit that their family’s wealth had been created by exploiting the poor and working class. He was the visionary who wanted to give back and right wrongs. I can’t fully digest what’s being said, not with the constant fear churning inside me. Not while knowing there are sniper rifles aimed at me, ready to fire on Yegor’s command if I do something out of turn or if Asher doesn’t comply.
