Page 22 of Bastard Prince
No one said a word as the wait staff removed the salad plates and deposited the main course, thick steaks with all the trimmings, in front of each of the guests. The other two couples at our table kept their eyes on their meals, smart enough to know they were now sitting in the presence of dangerous predators.
And by that, I meant me and Francesca, because there was no fuckin’ way I was gonna let that Eurotrash ass clown think he was in any way our equal.
“So, Enzo,” Gregor began, slicing into his rare stake, the blood leaking out onto the white plate and making it look more like a murder than a meal. He shoved a large piece into his mouth, chewing with his lips wide open, not caring one bit for any sort of manners or politeness. “My uncle tells me you’ve cornered the market on clubs in this town.”
“I do alright,” I replied, not taking my eyes off of him as he devoured his dinner like an animal.
“I hear you do more than alright,” he said loudly, drawing more attention to us than I was comfortable with. “I hear that you’re the guy to go to if you’re looking for a less than legal good time.” I locked eyes with the man seated to my right, a guy who owned some coffee franchise or another, and he immediately took my meaning.
“Hey, Geoff, Miranda?” he asked the other couple, standing and drawing his wife up with him. “Weren’t you saying you have the latest Tesla? How about you show me?” He gestured to the door with his chin. “Now.”
“But, Geoff,” the wife, Miranda, apparently, complained. “I’ve only just started my dinner. And they haven’t brought us our dessert yet.”
Amber, of course, could always be counted on to throw down some mean girl bullshit. “It wouldn’t kill you to miss dessert, lady,” she snapped rudely, causing Miranda to gasp. I mean, sure, the woman was round, but for fuck’s sake. That shit was just unnecessary.
“Ignore her,” Francesca said, smiling at the shocked Miranda. “She just forgets that not everyone snorts all their calories.”
With that, the two couples shuffled away, leaving just the four of us at our little round table, half eaten steaks on all our plates and a cloud of animosity in the air.
Turning my cold gaze back on Gregor, I said quietly, “You runnin’ your mouth for a reason, man, or are you just new at this? There’s some shit that ain’t fit for public conversation.”
Gregor threw his head back and laughed loudly, his blonde hair flopping around as he shook his head in a melodramatic display. His obscene howling came to an abrupt end when he dropped his head and stared at me, his face, which just a moment ago had been split in a grin like a lunatic, suddenly looked cold, his eyes empty of anything.
He looked like a total psychopath.
“No, Enzo,” he spat. “It’s you who’s new. I’ve been in this game my entire life. I was born to be a leader, bred from a line of emperors and raised to rule. You,” he emphasized with disdain, leaning his elbows on the table and pointing at me, his blue eyes wild, “are nothing more than a half-breed bastard whose father refused to acknowledge him until he could get something out of it.”
What the actual fuck?
Who the fuck did this guy think he was? How in the fuck did he know all that shit about me?
But the answer was clear, and I slid my narrowed eyes to Amber as she sat, her smile looking less smug and more nervous as she realized I knew she had been spilling secrets that didn’t belong to her.
“Oh, Amber,” sighed Francesca beside me, shaking her head in mock sadness. “You see, Enzo? That’s the problem with desperate sluts who use their vagina as currency; they have no loyalty.”
“Fuck you, bitch,” came Amber’s witty reply.
“I’d rather fuck him,” Francesca said, tilting her head my way, and I held in a chuckle when Amber’s face went red. “Hey, Gregor?” Francesca continued, shifting her gaze to the man in question. “How does it feel to be this walking STD’s consolation prize?”
“Piz`da!”Gregor snarled.
“Mu'dak!”Francesca shot back.
The shock was evident, and hilarious, as Gregor realized that not only had Francesca just insulted him in what I guessed was spectacular fashion, but she’d done it in Russian.
It only lasted a moment, however, and soon the confident mask was back in place, and he smiled as he reached for his water glass, taking a long sip. I hoped that meant he was sweating, but he seemed like the kind of guy who never let anything really bother him, at least on the outside.
“Very clever, Enzo,” he went on, not looking at either of the women at our table. “It seems your prize sow came with a few perks after all. That’s good.” His slimy gaze slid to Francesca, cruelly assessing her, and I felt my rage ratchet up another notch. “Because she sure didn’t come with any tits.”
“Listen here, you fuckin’—”
“Oh, Francesca, darling! There you are.”
I was halfway out of my chair, ready to feed Gregor my fist right there in the ballroom, when Jacqueline Holbrook stepped up, thankfully oblivious to the tension at our table.
“Jacqueline,” Francesca smiled, sliding right back into the gracious guest role. “What can I do for you?”
“I just came to see if you had finished your meal. I want you to come to my table, if you have a minute. I told my husband all about you, and he’d be delighted to meet you. Robert loved your idea regarding funding tutors for at-risk youth, and he wants to hear more. Is now a good time?”
