Page 20 of Goldsin

“Valentine.” I cut to the chase. The less time I spend here with him, the better it’ll be.

“Right,” he drawls, hands in his pockets. “Our little chat at the fundraiser last night must have left you longing for more civilized company.” The faintest of grins stretches his lips.

I press my lips together, my heart squeezing. Memories of the way his touch felt as it molded to my curves, held me obedient, flood back in.

But it’s the way he’s staring at me now that makes my blood turn cold. Not hot, but a chilling emptiness. Because it only serves to remind me of the void he left in me the moment he decided I wasn’t worth his time, attention, or affection.

Julian Harrow and I need to keep to our separate paths. Just like we have done for the past ten years.

“Hardly.” I scoff. “I just need to talk to him.”

“Of course.” He pushes off the wall and takes small, deliberate steps toward me. The depth in his eyes locks me into place. “But if you ever get bored of tasting the same old?—”

“Julian!” A sharp voice interrupts him.

A woman with legs half my height stands at the far end of the foyer. Her eyes are the darkest black I’ve ever seen, and she has long brown hair. A white knitted dress is draped elegantly over her figure.

That’s aRabannechain-detailedmidi dress. I’drecognize it with my eyes closed. Eleanora spoke about it maybe ten to twenty times last Friday when we met at her place for what she loves to call “pamper Friday.” She’s always had an eye for fashion, and with her family’s wealth she’s able to indulge in the latest trends. She says her extensive knowledge of fashion is a means of survival, because in a world like ours, the masks we choose to wear say more about our character than we’d like.

I guess that’s why I dress to catch the eye. I don’t want to cower away like they expect me to. I’m the odd one out, but that doesn’t mean I need to play the part.

“Your father needs you in his office.”

“Thank you, Lady Marlowe.” He gives me one last glance before turning to follow her.

Lady Marlowe.

My mind races with the probability that this is the same Lady Marlowe from my mother’s diary.

It’s impossible.

It can’t be the same Lady Marlowe.

Then again, the families who are a part of the Inferno Consortium span generations. No one else is called Marlowe if not a Marlowe.

But this woman is young. Her face doesn’t carry the weight of all her wrongdoings. Not yet at least.

She must be the daughter. Or a niece.

Whoever she is doesn’t take away from the fact she is a Marlowe. She may not have inflicted pain directly onto my mother, but she’s no saint. Not if she’s a member of the Inferno Consortium.

I need to find Valentine and ask himto tell me everything he knows about this Lady Marlowe and her connection to the Harrows.

I need answers, and I need them fast.

Determined, I make my way through the corridor opposite the one Julian and Lady Marlowe disappeared down. With each step I take, questions assault my thoughts.

How long have the Harrows and the Marlowes been doing business for? Yes, they’re both members of the Inferno Consortium, but that doesn’t mean their front companies have to interconnect.

How am I going to play my way deep into Lady Marlowe to destroy her?

And most importantly, since when was Julian this involved in the family business?

Thinking of him doing the disgusting things I read in my mother’s diary leaves dread crawling up my spine. Could he have changed this much?

My pulse races. I hope not.

Why? Because seeing him again stirred up old feelings? Because I foolishly think we can just erase ten years and pick up where we left off?

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