Page 35 of Shadows of Nightshade
Could he be that naive? Visions of imprisonment and justiceswarmed through my mind, and I couldn’t talk. Instead, I pointed toward Damen with a shaking finger.
He’d sworn an oath to law enforcement and the board of directors—maybe. Was he a man of his word, or not?
Damen shrugged nonchalantly as he accepted a refill from the sommelier, who apparently had heard enough to find this very funny. As the man walked away, I was left wondering what was wrong with these people.
“Bianca, relax. It’s not good to be so anxious all the time.” Damen lifted his glass, swirling it gently. “There is absolutely nothing to get upset about.”
Miles pulled me close, trying to reassure me. “What are you worried about anyway? First of all, having a sip of wine is not going to make me ineligible for law school.”
I wanted to point out that he’d actually downed half the glass, which was equivalent to a rather large ‘sip,’ but Miles moved on before I found my voice. “And no one is going to tell. No one here is going to bother us.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. Really?
That certainly sounded suspicious. That sounded like something a super-rich, pretentious person would say. I knew they were peculiar, but I didn’t think they were that influential.
I was about to call him out on his lies when a familiar silky voice cut into our conversation.
“Sorry I’m late.” Titus’s smooth baritone shot a shiver down my spine. A fraction of a second later, he stepped into my view, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he slid into the empty seat beside Damen. “I had to ditch Maria.”
Damen nodded as if that made perfect sense and greeted Titus in return.
Meanwhile, panic rose inside me. Even though I’d suspectedTitus was the missing guest, seeing him physically present brought an entirely different level of fear.
Titus. Lumberjack, Mafia Titus washere. And why was he late exactly? Was it business? There was a subdued violence to his aura that hadn’t quite quieted yet, and a curl or two still out of place. Still, he wasn’t covered in blood—so obviously, he’d won the battle.
And who was Maria—his girlfriend from a rival gang? That sounded so cliché.
I stared at him with mixed emotions, but Titus barely spared me a glance before he greeted Miles with a grin.
I wasn’t sure if I should be relieved by his lack of attention or offended that he was basically ignoring me.
Yet, I couldn’t blame him for being mad at me. I should apologize.
However, before I had a chance to make a fool of myself, the waitress returned—engaging the long-haired newcomer in small talk. So, he was a familiar face here too.
Titus gracefully waved his hands in the air as he spoke, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from him. Today, his hair was half up, allowing his curls to fall around his shoulders in a wave. He was clean-shaven, unlike the first time I had seen him, which made the masculine angles of his face stand out more.
And today, he did look like a businessman. Yet his pinstriped suit only served to make him appear even more dangerous and refined. It was difficult to decide, though, which theme worked better for him.
Either way, now that I didn’t fear for my life, I could see why he’d been called byForbes.
I felt inadequate beside the three of them.
Miles had perfected his wholesome, boy-next-door vibe. He was devilishly handsome. Plus, he had spent some years inFrance, so he had that romantic, foreign aspect going for him, too.
Damen was somehow seductive, with a gaze that threatened to consume your soul. There were… well, a lot of other things that could be said about Damen, too, but probably better off left unexplored.
Then there was Titus—angelic with a dash of wildness. He probably could kill someone.
The three of them compared to me, a frumpy blob at my best… What could I do? And right now, I looked far from my best. I hadn’t even brushed my hair this morning.
But I was wearing my Burberrys—my one vice and love—which put me closer to their level, at least a little. I just adored good shoes. They were the one possession that would have to be pried out of my cold, dead hands. I didn’t even care if Finn had gotten them for me—they were mine.
But even so—being unable to provide for myself sucked. I’d never been more determined to reach my financial goals ever before in my entire life.
It was then I realized the table had descended into silence. The waitress had left, and I was still staring at my placement. Miles was eating a fresh breadstick, while Damen swirled his refilled wine thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Titus was frowning at the table. His shoulders were squared in discomfort, and a petulant look etched his face. No one seemed to want to break the mood.
My mouth went dry.
