Page 93 of Summoned
At last, I allow my mind to drift through every detail of what happened between me and Gaetano; I have to sit down because the memory alone is overwhelming. My whole body fills with an ache that even the looming dinner can’t suppress.
It was foolish to lower my guard in front of the Black Joker. What’s more foolish? I’ve never felt so desired. So revered.
Yet, he’s the Black Joker. I can’t lose sight of my goal to win the last trial. Whatever games he plays in between, I have to keep my cool.
“We’re leaving!” My father’s voice booms through the closed door.
Minutes later, I sink into the backseat of his S-Class. My mother’s overpowering perfume fills the cabin. Dad backsout of the garage, phone glued to his ear, talking to some investor.
All I can see is Gaetano kneeling before me, as though I’m a goddess he worships with every fiber of his being. I don’t know the motive behind his actions. For all I know, he really was just toying with me, being the Black Joker in full form. That doesn’t take away the fact that when I recall his words, his touch, something shifts inside me, filling me with confidence.
I’ll go to this dinner and fuel the rumors that could save my family, but I’ll make sure Daniel Deliberov never wants to marry me again.
Our table is set in the basement of a fancy restaurant. Dishes clink softly beneath the quiet hum of piano music. Mrs. Deliberov and her two sons have claimed one side of the table. Daniel checks me out the way someone would a designer treat: knowing it’s something he can afford, but isn’t sure if it’s worth the trouble.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says with a colorless voice, standing to greet me.
I take the seat opposite him at the far end of the table, a flat “Thank you” escaping my lips.
My parents settle into the chairs on my left. Servers pour wine into glasses, and a minute later, the appetizers arrive. Daniel’s older brother launches into some tedious political topic that ropes the men into discussion. I take the opportunity to check my unread messages. A few from Boyana. One from Branimir—I’d forgotten he even existed. And one from Daria.
I only respond to Daria. She knows I survived the second trial, but not the details, and is demanding them.
The Black Joker kissed me, I’m tempted to write.More than once. In more than one place.
“Cheers to our future alliance!”
My head jerks up from the screen, eyebrows knitting. Mrs. Deliberov raises her glass in a toast, her beady eyes locked on mine. Her smile stretches almost to her ears, but something about it seems fake. Maybe it’s the lingering nausea from the cave illusion, but my stomach flips.
It takes a moment for her words to sink in.
“Future alliance?” I set my phone on the table.
My father throws me a warning look. “Nicole finds that word unfitting when it comes to marriage,” he says.
Across the table, Daniel catches my eye. “If calling it something else makes you more comfortable, I don’t mind. What matters is that we’re both…satisfiedwith the arrangement.”
My breath hitches as his deathly pale fingers curl around the stem of his glass, lifting it toward me. A knot tightens in my stomach. I turn to face my father, but his expression remains unchanged. His gaze pins me in place with a clear message:‘Now’s not the time to argue.’
Everyone toasts their glasses in mutual congratulations.
Deliberov’s glass hovers in my field of vision, unyielding. My heart sinks with an unwelcome realization. This isn’t a dinner to test our compatibility. The deal has already been sealed.Behind my back.
This is a trap.
“Nicole, are you all right, sweetheart?” My father asks.
My vision blurs, with red lines crossing everything and distorting his face.
If I stand up and leave, he’ll kill me.
He shakes his head with a sympathetic smile. “Nicole’s just overworked from all the projects she’s managing for me. Supervising construction sites all day. I tell her to rest, but she refuses to fall behind in her university training.”
The muscles in my thighs tense, ready to push me up. My tongue forms the words. Yet the moment I try to shove my chair back, my legs tremble. Why can’t I do it like I did in the illusion?
“You look absolutely stunning tonight.” Daniel’s smooth voice slides against my ear.
I’m still locked in a stare-down with my father. He simply tips his chin toward the young Deliberov. On autopilot, I mutter, “Thank you.”
