Page 69 of Toxic Glory

"I get the impression I wasn't apprised of something," I say to her. "What's with all the commotion this evening?"

A sous chef runs up to her with a tasting spoon, and Ingrid samples the concoction in the huge bowl they brought with them. She comments on the flavour, then turns back to us.

"I'm certain you were apprised," Ingrid says, levelling me with a glare. It isn't anywhere as cold as she wants to come off though. I know her too well to be truly scared of her. "You were informed of the event being held at Carlton Castle for your father's fiancée two days ago. Her birthday party."

She physically grimaces as she says the words, making clear that she's as sceptical of Sarah as I am. Her words also jog my memory.

Yes, I was told of the party, but I never planned to attend.

"Oh,that," I say, shrugging my shoulders. "You're doing the catering here?" That castle is nearly an hour away from the estate. That's a logistical nightmare for food. Ingrid nods gingerly.

"Sarah requested it."

Ah, so she's being a bitch already. "Good luck, then. I take it the chefs will be too busy to prepare dinner for us here?"

Ingrid quirks an eyebrow. "You won't be attending?"

I shake my head. Alize has been quiet beside me this entire time, looking between Ingrid and me as we talk. I don't like the idea of dragging my pregnant fiancée across the countryside to my scumbag father's new trophy wife's birthday party.

"No," I say. "Alize and I are going to have a quiet night in."

A slight smile twists the corner of Alize's lips. Perhaps it won't be quiet.

"Are you certain that's wise?" The skin by Ingrid's eyes tightens. "Your father will be expecting you to attend."

I know he will. He said as much when he extended the invitation. To be honest, it wasn't an invitation as much as it was a command.

He only wants me at the party to show me the future he intends to create with Sarah, to prove that he doesn't actually need my help to save the Empire. That the right to his legacy will never be mine if I don't acquiesce to his whims.

It's making me angry just thinking about it.

My father wants to push Alize out of my life by any means, and I'm not going to allow that.

"I'm sure he will work things out," I say to Ingrid. "I have no interest in attending."

Alize stiffens beside me, and she and Ingrid lock eyes. Then she turns those hazel stunners on me, and I know she's about to say something I don't want to hear. She's doing that baby-doll eye thing.

"Won't it create another fight between you two?" Alize says, and I can see the anxiety cresting behind her eyes. Then they move to the side of my head. The wound's mostly healed, but I'm sure the evidence of it is still visible.

When I turn to Ingrid, she's got her arms crossed, giving me the same kind of knowing look as Alize.

"I'm not interested in stitching up your head again," Ingrid scolds. "Or worse."

Fuck, I wish she hadn't said that.

Alize's eyes are wide.

"We can go," she says. "It's not a big deal, Alex, truly. I wouldn't mind attending a party."

A sigh sags my shoulders, and I knead my forehead with two fingers, closing my eyes. Alize is worried about my safety. She thinks if we don't go, my father's going to do something ridiculous to me.

I don't want Alize to worry. It's bad for the baby.

But I also don't want to be in the same room as my father for hours on end—even if it is a huge ballroom with hundreds of other people.

"I suppose we could go," I say. Alize visibly relaxes. "But we'll be leaving early." My plan is to go, hang around long enough for my father to see that we're there, then leave after they cut the fucking cake.

I don't feel good about it, but it will have to do.

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