I can’t stand the fucking distance.
Her heels touch the same white marble I’m standing on, but she may as well be on another planet. I hate that I can't walk up to her.
There are always too many fucking people around her—the viper, the new prince, that royal guard of hers, the other silver fox who fell from the sky and snatched her from my arms. And more of these black suits flanking their sides.
And I can’t murder any of these fuckers for hovering around her, keeping her from me.
Or, can I?
I can’t help but measure up the guards.How many can I take out before they get me?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Devereux announces, breaking my murder spree plans, “please welcome our guest of honor, Elton Etheridge, and his grandchildren, Daniel and Evangelina Etheridge.”
She makes a face at her full name, but covers it quickly with a fake smile.
The room erupts in applause, and the flock starts forming a line, eager to meet the heirs to the real-estate empire that owns them more than they’d care to admit.
“Posh fucking twats.” Hugo downs his drink in one go and slams his glass on the table behind us.
“Watch your foul mouth,” Tom warns his son. “This isn’t the place for your filth.”
“So what? You want us to join the queue? Kneel and kiss their rings?”
“No need.” My father shakes the ice in his whiskey. “They’ll come to us.”
“Because they don’t have enough attention?” Hugo waves a hand at the funnel forming in front of us.
“Becauseweare the only attentiontheywant.”
They did.
After twenty minutes of polite nods and hollow smiles, the Etheridges walk toward us. And finally, she sees me.
Our eyes meet. The liquid blue of hers shine, lips twitching to curl up for a heartbeat, before a flicker of fear snuffs out the light. She misses a step, taking in the wall in front of her—my father, Tom, Kane, Hugo, and me. She tries not to stare, but fails as her nervous gaze moves between us, then settles on me.
“Reginald,” Elton greets my father as he comes to a halt a few steps from us—close enough to command presence, far enough to avoid provocation. Wise.
“Elton.” My father nods, summoning every ounce of patience I know he doesn’t have.
My gaze zeros in on Daniel, who is staring at Kane with a keen eye.
“Mr. Sterling,” Daniel greets Kane with a knowing smile. “Glad to see you found your way home.”
Sterling?Did Daniel Etheridge just call Berkeley by his alias? The one he only uses when he is handling crooked business. Hugo and I exchange a look while Kane stands statue-still, his face unreadable. Not even MI6 can decode that expression when he is in his secrecy mode.
Eva’s eyes ping-pong between Daniel and Kane, wondering the same.
Then Daniel turns to me, staring directly at me—only me. The fucking audacity, after he attacked me on my own turf. There is a little more than rivalry in those eyes. Like he hasseen my photo, memorized it, pasted it on his punching bag, and practiced breaking my face.
I can’t help the smirk that curls on my lips, which makes a muscle tick in his jaw.
“I was sorry to hear about your parents.” My father steps up to them.
Daniel’s poker face cracks a little. Eva doesn’t miss it, either.
“Thank you,” Eva replies on both their behalf, then softly nudges Daniel’s shoulder and lifts her chin in question. He shakes his head once.
“What brings you to London?” Daniel asks, his eyes still on me before they snap to my father.
