Page 53 of Christmas Mafia Prince
I’m twenty-one. Am I old enough to wag my finger and tell them it’s wrong?
Nah.
And to be honest? Aspen is a wild card. I’m not fooled by his Christmas getup of a golden tracksuit with red sequin stripes on the sides. I don’t want to be on his bad side.
A whisper comes my way from one of the tables, and when I look that way, I spot Damen’s mom locking eyes with her husband. “This isn’t the right water. I told you we need alkaline!”
“There’s nothing better than fresh spring water,” Karl argues, and when she scowls, looking around, he lowers his tone. “I’m not overpaying for some bullshit again.”
“Is business going so badly that you can’t affordthe goodwater?” she shoots back, but I’m not there to watch the argument unfold, because Damen pulls me away and whispers.
“See what happens when they’re forced to spend a whole week under one roof? My childhood was paradise.”
“At least you had the private chefs on call whenever Mom and Dad forgot to feed you.” I wink at him.
Damen stills. He’s watching me as if he’s ready to whisk me away and cover me with seven blankets. “Kill… I’m so sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s fine, really, I can joke about it now.”
“I shouldn’t complain. For better or worse, my family is a functioning entity, and they accept my choices,” he tells me and slides his hand into mine. “But I already told you, they’re your family too.”
“Yes. I feel so pampered. Your mom even got me a set of crystals in the morning in case I was anxious about meeting even more people tonight. That was really thoughtful. Made me feel accepted. Maybe this was my goal all along? To weave myself into your family?” I grin at him.
He takes a deep breath and puts his hand against his chest, as if he’s just been shot. “I’m wounded! And all this time I thought it was me you wanted!”
The tall silhouette of Damen’s father appears behind him, and my eyes must have communicated that something is going on, because my man turns to face his parent. I’m still rather awkward about the impression I made that first evening, so I’m glad when it turns out the two of them need to exchange a few words in private.
Damen gives me thatwill-you-be-fine?look, and I nod with a smile before his father takes him away. I don’t know what the cutting glance Karl Van der Horn sends my way is about, but whatever.
I approach the table for some nibbles, back straight when I spot a few of the younger teens glancing my way. Instead of bristling, I imagine them saying ‘wow, I want tattoos like that’, because yeah, I feel so fucking cool.
In the room next door, Alexandra is taking an antique crossbow off the wall and shows her kids some detail at the top of the weapon, but her husband, Victor, is drifting my way, his handsome face lit up by a smile. “Are you overwhelmed yet? I know I was the first Christmas I spent here,” he says, reaching for a canapé from one of the trays arranged around the ice sculpture.
He’s one of the few people here who doesn’t treat me as ‘one of the girls’, so I perk up. “It’s a lot, but also… pretty magical.” I turn to the giant Christmas tree decorated with colorful baubles and fake snow. “Would you mind if I ask…” I lower my voice. “You’re the spouse of a Van der Horn. Alexandra’s been talking about how excited she is to take part, but do you hunt? Do you not want to? Are we even allowed to join?”
Victor shudders but offers me a smile and leans against the wall, taking in the room full of people. “Some of the husbands do, but fortunately there’s no pressure after the first time. Honestly, I much rather read or tinker with my memoir than run around in the snow. But those Van der Horns, they’re so competitive, and the gene did not skip my Alexandra.”
I cock my head at him. Maybe I misunderstood him. “Are you saying thereispressure that I join in the first year? I don’t really think I’m cut out for it.”
Victor adjusts his nerdy glasses and chuckles. “Neither am I, but here I am. It’s just one of those things you have to go through, and then it’s out of mind. Good luck tomorrow, by the way. I’ll be happily minding the kids.”
“Go throughwhat? Aspen told me I’ll be hunted, but that’s apparently a bunch of BS.”
Victor hums. “I… already said too much. Sorry, it’s the punch. No, you will not be hunted, I assure you. It will be fine.”
Okay. I’m not getting more out of him. I need to find Damen, because my tipsy mind is on high alert. “Um, thanks, I guess,” I say, but he’s already off with a whole plate of cookies.
As I’m left on my own, Damen’s mother’s voice reaches me again as she complains to Samantha. The poor girl seems unable to walk away and join the charades. “I told him acrylic plates would have been better than paper. He’s so cheap.”
I don’t want to be roped into this conversation, so I make sure to rush toward the corridor where I saw Damen disappear with his father.
I’m worried someone might try to grab my attention, so I turn into dark matter and disappear before anyone can notice. It’s much safer in the hallway, and while a server passes me with a tray full of champagne flutes, all we do is exchange a nod, and then I’m on my way past the other side of the smoking room and closer to where Damen told me his father’s office is located. So far away from the festive atmosphere of the party, I can hear them talk, and were it not for the last few words I hear, I would have just walked into the office with a wide smile.
But how can I do that when Damen’s father calls me a ‘boy with no basic table manners’? And I thought I’d been doing so well lately…
My heart sinks, and while eavesdropping is even more impolite, I need to know what else they have to say about me.
“Your sister apparently found the two of you… coupling in the stables? Kids could have been there.”
