Page 53 of Vendetta

I look at Preston who’s standing awkwardly.

“What the fuck is this?” I snarl.

“It was Blaine’s idea.” He says.

“What was?” Eleri asks screwing her face, her expression going from concern to confusion.

“Why don’t you get a drink? You’re out of champagne.” Preston says to her and she scowls but looks at me anyway.

“Go Eleri.” I state. She nods obediently and walks away. Even now, even in this moment she’s so perfectly queen like, trusting me, trusting my decisions because she knows I’ve got her back.

I wait only until she’s far enough out of earshot.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Blaine was suspicious. He thought she might be a mole.” Preston says. “I told him it wasn’t a good idea but he decided to go with it anyway.”

“So what, Lucas pretends to be a cop, tries to see if she’ll snitch, is that it?” I ask.

“If it makes you feel better she told him where to shove it.” Preston replies.

“Of course she did.” I say but I’m already crossing the room heading for Blaine.

He sees me coming as does Lucas.

“What the fuck is this I hear about you pretending to be a cop?” I growl.

Lucas squirms but Blaine doesn’t.

“We had to be sure.” Blaine says.

“Like fuck you did. She’s my woman, do you think I’d be stupid enough not to vet her?”

“She appeared out of nowhere, what did you expect? And with everything going off with Emerson…” Lucas says.

I’m half tempted to punch him, to shatter his god damn face right here and be done with it.

“Eleri is not a spy.” I state.

“Yeah?” Blaine says stepping nearer, only his eyes are darting behind me. “So how come she’s talking to your brother right now?”

Her

Idon’t know what’s going on but it’s clear some shit is happening. That someone is playing games. That his men think it’s okay to test me.

I do my best not to storm over to the bar, not to scowl, to keep my face neutral and look like nothing’s going on because this is Nico’s night and I won’t do anything to fuck with it despite how much I want to punch Blaine’s stupid face right now.

I order a shot of vodka. No, it’s not ladylike but no I don’t care. I need something stronger than champagne, something with less bubbles too. I knock it back before ordering a second.

“Now why would such a delectable creature as yourself be sat drinking alone?” Someone says just as I feel fingers creeping down my back.

I turn glaring at the person who dared to touch me and his whole face reacts as he takes mine in. I guess I should be used to it now. Used to the shock, used to the horror, the revulsion in people’s eyes when they see the scar, when they see the fact almost half my face is ravaged.

Before I can reply I feel Nico’s hand, gripping me possessively and I feel like I’m suddenly caught between the two of them. Caught in a situation I don’t understand.

“Hello Nico.” The man’s eyes flash as he leans back against the bar clearly assessing us both.

“Why are you here?” Nico growls.

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