Page 27 of Venomous Kiss
“Arlo, leave her alone and move.” His hand drops from my arm and falls to his side. Despite my head screaming at me to lower my gaze, I can’t. My focus is pulled to a man with a gold pin attached to his black suit. Arlo is dark and stormy, whereas this man stands as if he controls the room and everyone in it, and he indeed does control it by the looks of it.
The Creed of Forsaken Society.
And this man is their leader.
He nods at me, and I turn and hurry away, but not before I hear him say, “Arlo, you know better. It’s not playtime for you. Behave.” I don’t catch Arlo’s response, as I’m already melting back into the crowd.
Someone takes the last fish cake from my tray, and I put my head down and hurry to the kitchen to pick up another tray. I spot Florence removing her clothes as she stands before two men. She’s also a server, but she told me she doesn’t get paid to serve only food. She’s here to walk around naked and let the men grope her, which is the norm for some parties with very high-profile clients.
Pushing the kitchen doors open, I drop my empty tray on the counter, grab a full one, and head back out. Florence is now walking around naked with a tray of drinks in her hand. I watch her for a moment as she passes the man from earlier, the one who distracted Arlo from whatever plan he had for me. We all know he is in charge, and I learned that people address him as Lord. It’s weird, but whatever.
I didn’t even know that people and organizations like this existed until I started digging a little further. I’m good with computers and can find almost anyone or anything. My aunt, who raised me, told me I should have been a detective, yet somehow, I ended up marrying into money. When I met Deven, I searched for everything I could about him. I even hacked into police records to see if they had anything on him.
Maybe, just maybe, he had a darker side to him that would have intrigued me. But he turned out to be as clean as a newborn.
As I said, at first, I stayed away.
But, eventually, I gave in.
Which led me to where I am now—using a fake identity and stalking a man I would do well to stay away from—because my husband wasn’t enough for me.
“If you say so.” That voice sends shivers down my spine. I turn and look up through my lashes, and that’s when I see him. He is surrounded by three other men who are watching him with intent.
Since this event is so high-profile, I have seen senators, heads of police departments, and lawyers—all incredibly powerful men, and I would guess all of them extremely rich.
But I haven’t seen Reon at even one of these events in the last six months. However, I’ve seen pictures of him at other events… with her. Pictures of him kissing the top of her head and how she smiles up at him with love in her eyes.
I wish I could make her disappear.
I wonder if she knows the darkness that lurks inside of him.
I do.
I saw it firsthand.
And it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
Stepping closer while keeping my eyes down, I make my way to where he is. The men don’t pay me any attention, especially considering I’m not naked while serving food and drinks.
Florence steps up to the group, and I watch as Reon takes a step back and looks around the room before his eyes land on me. I quickly avert my gaze and turn away. His hair is much the same—styled but in an unruly way—and he has a slight stubble on his jaw. His tattooed fingers grip a glass of champagne from which he hasn’t drunk one sip.
“I hear these are fish cakes?” I freeze as his voice sounds from behind me. I nod and keep my eyes downcast as I lift the tray for him to take one. “I’m allergic to seafood.” His words stump me, and I pull the tray back toward myself and turn to continue my rounds through the room. I want to tell him he’s lying about the allergy, but out of all my research on him, that never came up.
My hair has changed since the last time I saw him, and I may have dropped a few pounds since I no longer eat to kill the boredom of my marriage, so I doubt he knows it’s me. But I knew it was him without even meeting his eyes. I will always recognize him.
As I said, I’m a good stalker.
I’m heading to the other side of the hall when Florence taps me on the shoulder.
“Hey, I’m not feeling well. I think it was the fish,” she says, her eyes watery.
“Did someone hurt you?” I reach for her, but she pulls back, shaking her head.
“No. Can you please take over for me? I know you don’t do this, but I’m desperate, and Andy will fire me. But I just can’t tonight.” I glance past her to see Andy mingling with the attendees. As if he feels my gaze, he looks up, and his eyes narrow at me.
“I can’t, Florence. I’m sorry.” I don’t have any ill will toward Florence, but I would never do what she does. Not that I think it’s degrading or anything. I just wouldn’t. I’ll pull a knife out of a body and smile as I do it, but this is different. You couldn’t pay me enough to do what she does. “Andy is walking over here,” I say under my breath. She doesn’t look over her shoulder, just plasters on a fake smile as she turns with her tray still in her hand.
“Oh, Andy, thank God. I was just saying to Cooper here that she should also get champagne. The boys are loving it.”
