Page 91 of I'm sorry, Princess
And yet, every single bastard in this room is looking at her like they fucking can.
I grip my whiskey glass tighter, the expensive crystal creaking under the force of my hold. If one more man lays his eyes on her, I might actually carve them out. Smash their fucking heads into the floor and turn this elegant party into a massacre. Just to make a point. Just to remind them who the fuck she belongs to.
Not that she knows it yet.
Her gaze flicks to mine, and for a second, I forget how to breathe.
Brown eyes, wide, unreadable, scanning me, searching for, what? Recognition? A reaction?
Then her gaze shifts.
To Ashley.
I smirk.
Is that jealousy I see, baby?
I don’t even think. My grip tightens around Ashley’s waist, pulling her closer, making sure Serena sees it, making sure she knows. Ashley presses against me like she was fucking made to fit into my side, but she’s not the one I want to be touching. Not the one I need to be touching.
Serena’s eyes darken.
Oh, fuck, that look. If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under by now. My little angel is pissed. Pissed.
I wink at her, just to piss her off more.
Her expression twists, lips parting slightly before she scoffs, rolling her eyes so hard I think she might just throw her whole damn head back.
And then she turns.
Walks away.
Straight to the bar with her little friend.
She thinks she can just walk away from me?
Cute.
This discussion is boring the absolute shit out of me. Lockwood has been running his mouth for the last ten minutes, spewing bullshit about what a great gentleman I am, how my father would be so proud of the man I’ve become. If only he fucking knew.
I nod, let out a polite hum, and pretend to give a fuck. I don’t. I need to get the fuck out of here.
Ashley, on the other hand, is eating up every second of this event, practically glowing with excitement just fromstanding next to me. I don’t blame her. Any woman in this building would kill to be where she is, clinging to my arm like she belongs there.
She doesn’t.
I scan the room, looking for an escape, and my eyes land on Kirill, Andres, and Lev in the corner, looking as bored as I feel. Perfect. Without another word, I leave Lockwood mid-sentence and head straight for them.
"Fuck, this shit is annoying me," I say as I knock back the rest of my whiskey, the burn doing absolutely nothing to take the edge off. ‘Never send me to do diplomatic bullshit again.’ I shoot Kirill a glare, and he just laughs, the I told you so written all over his face.
"Do you mind if I fuck your date?" Lev asks, far too casually for my liking.
I cut him a sharp look.
"She’s not my date. She’s my employee. And no, you cannot fuck my employee."
I don’t give a fuck who Ashley sleeps with, but for two years, she’s been the one at my side at these events, and I’m not about to have my business partners passing her around like she’s a party favor. It looks bad.
Lev sighs like I just ruined his entire night. ‘Why? Are you fucking her?’
