Page 25 of Vicious Titan

18

Victoria

The limo comes to a stop. Finally. I’m so ready to be out of the damn car. It’s bad enough we’re so late thanks to my brother, but the few minutes Elliot played at being a nuisance in the car was more than enough to last me all night.

We hurry up the stairs as I whisper a few last warnings to Asher. This event is important to Quinn. If he wants to have any chance at a shot with her, he’ll need to behave tonight. I have little faith that’ll happen and even less that his idiotic sidekick will act right. All I need to do is stay far away from Elliot and enjoy the evening with Dalton—someone I deserve to be with.

The sight of Quinn with a date is enough to enrage Asher, and I do my best to talk some sense into him one last time before making my way over to where she stands with Connor.

Greeting her with a hug, I whisper in her ear, “Still loving that dress on you.”

“Same.” Quinn smiles as we chat for a few moments before heading over to have a seat at my parents’ table. They are in a bickering match as Dalton and I approach, so it’s not that hard to ignore Elliot’s annoying presence next to my brother. Once my father notes Dalton pulling out my chair, the argument halts, and a smile appears on his face.

“And who do we have here?”

“Dad, this is Dalton. Dalton, Victor Hastings.” I’m glad my dad is showing interest because my mom doesn’t seem the least bit concerned, but I introduce her anyhow. “My mom, Monica.”

Dad offers his hand as he stands from his chair, shaking Dalton’s hand before resuming his seat. “Dalton, tell me about yourself. What does your father do for a living?”

How is it discussing what his father does for a living telling my father about himself? Dalton doesn’t seem to mind the question as he begins explaining that his father owns the art studio where we met.

Their conversation is halted when Nathan walks onstage, and my dad’s expression tightens as he watches his best friend give a welcome speech and talk up the Bennett Foundation.

When the introduction is over, music fills the air as Dalton shifts in his seat, pulling my attention to him when a worried look overcomes his face.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Um, I’m not feeling so well. I’ll be right back.” Dalton jogs off, hurrying into the bathroom near the front entrance.

That can’t be good.

“Art Boy already bailing?” Elliot snickers.

Something about his evil grin tells me he knows exactly why Dalton just ran straight to the bathroom. Damn it. This is really bad.

Asher rises from his seat, heading directly toward where Quinn and Connor are dancing, but the menacing asshole in front of me keeps my full attention. I need to know what’s going on.

“What did you do?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“What makes you think I did something? Maybe Dickie just can’t hang.”

Elliot reclines back, unbothered by the rage flowing from me. Actually, I think that’s the part he’s enjoying. Fucker.

He lifts the glass of water to his mouth, taking a sip, eyes locked with mine.

The shot in the limo.

“What did you put in it?”

“Don’t worry. He’ll be fine, eventually.”

“Tell me what you gave him.” I wouldn’t put anything past the pompous ass, and it worries me that Dalton might be in need of more than a bathroom break.

Elliot gestures to the dance floor where I see Quinn hurrying away, disappearing down a hallway at the back of the room as Asher follows behind her. “Looks like everyone is bailing on the party.”

“You’re such a vile, miserable asshole, you insist on making other people miserable too.”

He chuckles and leans forward, everyone around us continues on, oblivious to the idiot wreaking havoc on my night and causing poor Dalton undue pain and suffering. “Your night is the only one that I’m concerned with. Everyone else is responsible for their own misery, even Art Boy. No one forced the shot down his throat.”