Page 12 of Silent Oaths
Aswe step further into the mansion, my pulse quickens, the anticipation building with each step.Idon’t know what’s waiting for me tonight, but one thing is certain:I’vealready crossed the threshold, and there’s no going back.
6
MAXWELL
Whenwe step into the grand hall, we’re the last ones to arrive.Fashionablylate, as always.
Wesplit fromIsabelandValeriaand head to the far end of the room, whereLionelis already basking in his own glory.
Iroll my eyes—dramatically, of course—as his spine straightens and his “showtime” smile takes center stage.It’salmost insulting how much he enjoys this pretense.Theman loves a spotlight more thanIdo, andI’mthe one born to entertain.
AsIlet my gaze sweep the room,Icatch sight of the group of womenIwas charming earlier.Theone with lips that look like they’ve been pumped full of helium winks at me.Myskin crawls.Sheprobably thinksI’minterested.
Nottonight, sweetheart.I’mselective about whereIplace my cock.
Mygaze continues its leisurely journey until it lands onIsabel, looking both out of place and entirely magnetic.She’swearing a skimpy white top and a purple mini skirt that cling in all the right places.Fora second—justa second—Iforget how to breathe.Damn.Shelooks… fucking edible.
There’sa stiffness to her posture, though, like she doesn’t belong here.Andshe doesn’t.Notreally.Butthere’s something about the way she holds herself—head high, shoulders back—that makes it impossible to look away.It’slike she’s daring me to underestimate her, andIsuddenly want to uncover everything about her.Imomentarily think about the gleaming blade of my knife nipping at her skin, goosebumps erupting as she begs for mercy.
Fuck.
Mychest tightens, this unfamiliar pull tugging at me.Whatis this?It’ssharp, intrusive, like an itchIcan’t scratch.I’vefelt anger, hatred, bitterness—all the good, toxic emotions.Butthis?Thisis different.Unwelcome.Dangerous.
Ishouldn’t want her.She’sTheodore’slittle obsession, a pawn in theWhitmoregame.Apiece to be moved, used, and discarded.ButasIwatch her trace the rim of her glass with her fingers,Ifeel a dark, primal urge rise in me.
Then, she takes a sip, tilting her head back just slightly, and the way her throat moves when she swallows is enough to push me to the edge of madness.
“Stopdrooling.”
Julian’svoice cuts through my thoughts, his tonealmostteasing and a little unimpressed.He’sstanding beside me, arms crossed, his ever-judgmental stare locked in place.
Idon’t answer him right away.Iscoop a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and down it in one swift gulp, letting the burn settle in my stomach beforeIturn to him with a slow, knowing grin.
Itwirl on my heel, feigning amusement. “Andyou’re not?Please,Juju.Isee the sparkle in your eye.”
Julianstiffens, his jaw ticking.
Gotyou.
“Don’tstart with me,” he grunts. “Andstop calling me that.”
Ismirk, shifting closer, just enough for my shoulder to brush his. “I’llcall you whateverIlike, little brother.”
“Malditopendejo,” he mutters under his breath.
Heexhales sharply, his lips parting like he has something biting to throw back at me, but then—she laughs.
Isabel, radiant under the golden glow of the chandeliers, smiles at somethingValeriasays.Thesound cuts through the air like a blade, straight to the center of my chest.Idon’t even realize my grip is tightening around the empty champagne flute untilJulianmoves, his fingers ghosting over my wrist in the subtlest of warnings.
Iturn my head just enough to catch the side of his face.Hisgaze isn’t on me, though.It’son her.
Aslow, wicked smile stretches across my lips. “Ah,Isee how it is.”Ilean in just a little more, my voice nothing but a whisper between us now. “Jealous,Julian?”
Finally, his eyes snap to mine, dark and brimming.Ican’t help but let my smirk deepen, relishing the way his breath hitches for just a second—barely noticeable, butIknowhim.Iknow every tell, every hidden glance, every little crack in his perfect control.
“Ofher?” he scoffs, recovering fast, butIcatch the way his throat bobs, the slight pink at the tips of his ears. “Don’tflatter yourself.”
Ichuckle, turning back toward the room, butIdon’t miss the way his gaze lingers on me before he looks away.
