Page 53 of Betrayed in the Dark
“Don’t fucking look at her!”
“Okay! Okay! I won’t!”
“The next time I catch you admiring what isn’t yours, I’ll ensure that you never get the chance to see anything ever again.” I push him aside and quickly approach an unimpressed Madeleine, who stands with her arms crossed and her hip jutting out to the side.
“Do you feel better?” she asks, attempting to sound annoyed, but I notice a hint of amusement in her eyes.
I roll my neck and grin. “Very much so.”
Facing the main room, she sighs and says, “That makes one of us.”
She takes a step just as I reach out and grasp her elbow, stopping her. She stills, looking up at me with those captivating blue eyes I want to get lost in.
“You don’t have to go in there,” I tell her. “I can say you weren’t feeling well and arrange for a bottle of the most expensive champagne to be sent to their table as an apology.”
She smiles, but the corners of her lips barely reach her eyes. Her hand lands on mine, giving it a reassuring pat. “I do have to,but thank you.” She takes a step away but then stops, glancing over her shoulder. “Just…don’t leave my side, okay?”
“Never,” I answer.
The moment she resumes her steps, her smile fades, and she pulls her shoulders back, striding confidently through the space. An aura of authority and power surrounds her. I closely follow behind, maintaining only a few inches between us.
The room is filled with posh socialites dressed to the nines, here to be seen and heard. They laugh as they shove their forks into their overpriced caviar and drink a bottle of champagne worth the price of someone’s car. Servers stand at the ready nearby, prepared to be called upon for whatever these snobs desire. The lights are dim, casting an ambient glow over the expansive space—a space that, the more I look around, I realize is designed to resemble the Palace of Versailles.
“Madeleine, darling.”
Alastor’s unpleasant voice causes my eyes to snap in his direction just as he leans forward, pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks. He snakes an arm around her waist, pulling her against his side.
“Smile!” A photographer appears before them, capturing a picture of the supposed happy couple. Onlookers nearby watch in admiration… If only they knew.
My hands, clenched at my sides, tremble with fury as I stare at the place on Madeleine’s hip where Alastor’s hand comfortably rests. That is until she manages to slip out of his grip, sneaking between a chair and positioning herself closer to me.
Alastor narrows his eyes, focusing on the small distance that separates us.
Can’t say he looks too pleased.
Subtly, I scan him from head to toe, mentally noting any places he may be storing a hidden weapon.
Should I be surprised to find him dressed in a custom-tailored white suit, looking like the goddamn Easter Bunny? No. What does catch me off guard is the presence of an older man standing beside him, both of them wearing almost identical ridiculous attire.
We step toward the table with four pairs of eyes on us.
“Hi, Eli.” Cressida tucks her hair behind her ear, looking up at me. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
I tilt my chin politely. “Always lovely to see you, Cressida.” I wasn’t lying to Madeleine when I told her she asked me out. The girl has balls; I’ll give her that. However, when she asked me if I’d like to join her for dinner, I gently declined, explaining that work was my primary focus at the moment. Not a lie, given that Madeleine is my work and, consequently, my primary focus.
“Madeleine, dear. I swear you get lovelier every time we see you,” the older man, who I assume is Alastor’s stepfather, Adolfo, says. She forces a smile as he reaches for her hand, but Madeleine pretends not to notice and sits down, sipping the wine before her.
Alastor and I stare off momentarily before he says, “Sorry, chap. Must have forgotten you’d be accompanying my darling girl here tonight. Don’t seem to have an extra chair for you.” He smiles wickedly as if he had just won a war.
But if there’s one thing he should know about me…
I never lose in a battle.
I grin. “Don’t think it will be a problem. In fact…” I turn to quickly scan the room and spot an empty seat two tables away. Hurrying over, I grab the chair and then place it between Madeleine and Cressida. As I sit down, my knee brushes against Madeleine’s. “Perfect fit.”
Alastor appears to want to say something, but instead, he tugs at his collar and takes the seat on the other side of Madeleine.
“Eli,” Madeleine voices as she subtly shifts away from Alastor. “This is Adolfo and Mila, Alastor’s parents.”
