Page 4 of Goldsin

“Ah, there you are!” Lady Harrow, the wife of Lucian, the leader of the Inferno Consortium, approaches me with a drink in her hand. Her lips attempt to form a smile, but it’s impossible after the countless injections she’s had. “You look stunning, dear.”

You look average,is what she’s really saying.

I dated her son for ten years, and the only time she ever complimented me was when I picked up the correct fork for the first course of our meal. As if I’d never attended a banquet before.

“Thank you.” I give her the warmest smile I can fake. I can’t afford to raise any suspicions now—not with a dead body upstairs. “It’s a beautiful event, Lady Harrow. You’ve outdone yourself.”

“Of course, dear. Only the best for our esteemed friends.”

She says the last words with a drop in her voice, but I can’t seem to focus on her underlying message. Not with the way Adrian Harrow, the Harrows’ eldest son—andmy ex-boyfriend—is watching us from across the ballroom.

Watchingme.

His dark blue eyes narrow, and I swear, if they could, they’d swallow me whole. He just stands there observing. Unreadable.

I shouldn’t be surprised. Adrian’s always been stoic. As the eldest Harrow brother, he was taught to be like this, in stark contrast to his younger brother Julian’s nonchalant ways.

But tonight ... something feels different.

“Excuse me. I should probably go and greet some of the other guests.” Without waiting to hear Lady Harrow’s response, I extricate myself from her presence. But even after I’ve walked the perimeter of the ballroom, Adrian’s eyes are still glued to me, leaving a trail of unease down my spine.

Brushing off the heaviness of his gaze, I move through the crowd, engaging in trivial conversation while collecting whispered secrets. Each spoken word is a weapon, a tool I’ll get to use against those I promised to destroy.

“Golden one!” The nickname the Inferno Consortium gave me scratches down my skin as the woman’s eyes do the same, appraising the way I look. “Your dress is simply divine.”

They’ve called me that since I can remember. No one calls me by my given name except Valentine, Adrian, and Julian. Although Julian hasn’t really called me anything for a while.

Whenever I hear those two words, they make me feeldirty, like a pet for them to toss around. No one else has a nickname in the Inferno Consortium but me.

I match the woman’s saccharine tone. “Thank you, Mrs. Caldwell.”

Another guest appears next to her. “Isn’t this a fabulous party?” His cheeks are a shade of red from the countless flutes of champagne he’s probably had. “The Harrows always know how to throw the most exquisite fundraisers.” His fingers are covered in cream cheese as he stuffs his mouth with cucumber sandwiches.

I force a polite smile as I nod in agreement.

As exhausting and boring as it may be, engaging in small talk is the only way I can gain valuable information on the members of the Inferno Consortium. Unless I resort to stalking, but I’m not about to waste my time studying these pigs.

“Is it true what they say about Julian Harrow?” he asks before sipping on his flute of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay. His fingers arestillcovered in cream cheese as he dirties the glass. “That he’s involved in some rather ... unsavory business dealings?”

His name chills my heart as I try to suppress a sigh of frustration.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that they had to bring him into our conversation, they clearly have nothing to do with the Inferno Consortium. They’re just wealthy associates of the Harrow Enterprise, relying on their money for influence.

This is a waste of time. I need to find members, not outsiders.

“Who can say forcertain?”

This man is playing my game. He’s the one digging for information from me. But in this world, gossip is a currency, and I’m not about to give it away.

I’d trade it, but he clearly knows nothing apart from the taste of those cucumber sandwiches.

At my silence the man continues. “Either way, it would seem there’s more to the Harrow family than meets the eye.”

No shit.The words beg to leave my lips.

Instead I ask, “Isn’t that always the case with powerful families?”

My gaze drifts across the room to where Julian stands. His torturous blue eyes are already fixed on me. I can’t decide if it’s how unreachable he looks between the laughter and chatter of others, or if it’s the way only his attention can scorch my insides, that truly feels torturous.

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