“Gentlemen,” one of them called. “Can we get a picture?”
Laurent leaned slightly toward me. “Of course.”
We stood shoulder to shoulder.
Enemies pretending to be family.
The cameras flashed bright.
And while the room only saw two men smiling for the press, Laurent leaned closer just enough that only I could hear him.
“You know what I find fascinating about men like you?”
Flash.
Flash.
“What’s that?”
“Eventually they all bleed, including me.”
Another flash lit up the room.
Laurent’s smile never changed. “Powerful men die all the time, Ares.”
I smiled back. “Maybe you. Not me.”
The cameras finished, and the photographers moved away to chase someone else.
Laurent straightened his jacket. “Enjoy your evening.”
“Yeah, you too.”
He walked away with his girl like the conversation had meant nothing.
But I felt the tension sitting in the air long after he disappeared into the crowd.
Start watching that nigga closer,were my last thoughts.
Across the ballroom, Yuna stood waiting with her cousins and glam squad, which she didn’t even use.
The veil covered her face, while the diamonds at her throat sparkled with every movement.
Security had already made sure the photographers kept their distance, and there were no phones in the building.
No one was getting a clear shot of her face tonight.
People had already started whispering about her.
The mysterious Delacroix bride to be.
Exactly how I wanted it.
I walked toward her.
Someone near the stage tapped a glass to signal attention.
Tonight was supposed to be perfect.
