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“You said you were working,” Zander quietly brings up. “She’s work?”
My brother side glances at him but doesn’t answer.
Meaning she is.
Then it hits me.
“Miss Prescott…” I repeat and look at the woman in his arms. She’s paler now, which doesn’t sit well in the pit of my stomach because when she walked in here, I noticed she was already typically pale for her complexion.
The flushed layer of blush on her face invited a palette of color to her appearance, but now getting a lengthy look at her, even I’m concerned for her safety.
“Fuck,” I curse and look at Domino. “They sent Prescott’s daughter to participate in this shit?”
That wasn’t in the contract.
Heck, I don’t even remember her name on the fucking list.
Domino is clueing in on what’s already brewing in my mind.
This is going to get messy if this woman dies.
“She wasn’t on the list,” Domino emphasizes here and now.
He’s glaring daggers at my brother, who’s only matching his energy.
If not out beating him, thanks to how the tension around us spikes immensely.
“Gemini Ivanka Prescott,” my brother growls between grit teeth. “You’re informing us that name wasn’t on the list of invited candidates? Yet we’ve gotten every text message sent, including the sudden dropouts and change of meeting time with intense consequences if not met?”
“She got the text messages,” Zander whispers. “Wait. Does she go by another name?” He looks specifically at Domino. “You just called her Iva. Why?”
Domino doesn’t answer.
He’s just continuing his staring match.
“Warren.” I use his ‘work’ name out of respect. I don’t want to piss him off further by revealing his identity in front of my best friends, who he currently doesn’t trust.
For obvious reasons.
He breaks off the menacing stare to hit me with his boiling anger.
“There has to be another name,” I urge and let a hint of emotion leak in my voice.A bit of concern that proves we’re not in on whatever is transpiring here.“Prescott wasn’t on our list. I’m sure of it. I reviewed it multiple times. Zander finalized it, and Domino approved it with his signature. We would have known if it was tampered with because we checked it right beforecoming here. You wouldn’t have received text messages long before then otherwise.”
There’s a pinch of conflict that dares show in his hollow eyes, but he cooperates.
“Verena.”
It kindles familiarity immediately.
“Verena L,” I whisper and mentally curse. “Why didn’t I think there would be a different use of names?”
“We did background checks, though,” Domino chips in. “We didn’t just make a list and say eeny, meeny, miny, moe!”
His anger is deflating by the second. He’s coming to realize we may have just fucked something up. Played right into someone’s game to screw up a peace treaty that’s been brewing between our empires for a long-ass while.
We need to call Kian.
“Um… guys?” The slight uptick in Zander’s voice has me and Warren glancing over at him.
