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“I don’t know what he would have done. I never actually attended an auction.”
“But you knew about them.” He grits his teeth.
“Knew about their ulterior motives? Knew about the fucked up shit my father was hiding? As a teenage girl trapped in a world she had no choice but to be in?” My hackles rise, and I have to breathe slowly through my nose. “No, of course I didn’t. Until the moment I did.” The ominous facade with endless rows of windows comes into view as we wind our way along the snaking drive of the estate grounds.
“I don’t buy that for a second.”
Whatever. This man can think I’m worse than shit on the bottom of his shoe and I’ll never change his mind. When it comes to men like Thorne Calliano there’s no point wasting your breath trying. “Once I found out, that’s when I ran.” Looking out at the heavy, masculine exterior of the mansion I spy the familiar sight of gothic peaks and iron finishes.
He doesn’t reply.
“I know you won’t ever believe me. So why bother, right? You hated my father, but I can’t begin to tell you the depth of my disgust for that man. So this is me telling you, I don’t know how my father would have acted. I spent most of my time actively avoiding his presence.” Blowing out a heavy exhale, I smooth the material of my dress over my lap. Trying to plead my case is more than a lost cause, it’s like spitting into the face of a hurricane.
“You know enough. Be the heir to Noire House.” His tone is final, and he pulls the car to a stop outside the front steps. There’s a valet to greet him, and as he exits the car, I can see the woman in question is more security than actual valet. Thorne clearly knows her as they immediately clasp shoulders in that familiar bro-hug style that men tend to do with each other. While there’s nothing sexual in it, a little prickle of heat builds at the back of my neck seeing him with another female for the first time.
Fuck’s sake. What is wrong with me that I’m this territorial over someone I can’t stand to be around for longer than is absolutely necessary.
So I do exactly what the catty bitch inside my chest wants to do. Thorne Calliano wants me to be the perfect example of the heir to Noire House? Well, she is someone who does not tolerate anyone putting their hands on her property.
I slide out of the car, making sure to sweep my loose curls over one shoulder, and then slam the door with enough force to have the woman’s head pop up and turn my way. She’s dark-haired, fierce-looking, and absolutely stunning. The quintessential femme fatale you see cast as the heroine in movies.
Which is probably why I’m spurred on to round the front of the car and extend my hand in her direction, inserting my body between the two of them.
“Foxglove Noire.” I purr, feeling Thorne stiffen beside me when I purposely brush against his torso. “You’ll take care of my vehicle, I presume.”
“Good evening, ma’am. Of course, it would be my pleasure.” The other woman steps back with the keys she’s been entrusted with, a bemused expression in her eyes as they bounce between me and Thorne.
“Thank you, you’re too kind.” Laying it on thick, I do my best impersonation of the rich assholes who frequent this place. Before she can get in the car, I stick my leg out through the slit of my dress, revealing my entire thigh and quite possibly my lace thong, but I don’t fucking care. He wanted a show tonight, he’ll get a fucking show.
“Thorne, baby, can you retie my bow for me? It feels a little loose.” Fluttering my long eyelashes, I pout my lips a little and give him a coy look.
He returns it with one that says he wants to strangle me.
The woman holding the car keys chokes a cough into her fist. Yeah, she has most likely never seen anyone treat the great and powerful Mr. Calliano this way, and I’m eating up every second of this power struggle.
Will he give in all for the sake of his plan?
I nearly keel over when the mountain standing in front of me sinks down onto one knee, all the while keeping his steel blue gaze fixed on my face. He wraps a calloused palm around my offered ankle and tugs it toward him with a firm yank. The command in that one singular movement has a straight line to my pussy. His fingers drag over the sensitive skin as he takes the silk tie and unravels it with a painfully slow tug on the bow.
“Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself tonight,” he murmurs through gritted teeth while deftly re-tying the silk, and somewhere along the way, I’ve forgotten how to make use of my lungs during this entire interaction.
“Thank you, baby.” The words feel heavy on my tongue. He continues to hold on to my ankle for a long moment; his fingers brushing over that sensitive spot that makes my knees go a little wobbly. And when he finally straightens back up and offers his arm to lead me inside the doors to the mansion, I don’t even notice that the woman and our vehicle have long departed.
We’ve barely made our way into the foyer of Noire House before Thorne shoves a mask into my hands—one that is a skull designed to cover my eyes and my nose—and promptly evaporates like mist in the wind. He’s lost to the crowd, and once again, I’m ambushed by every slimy asshole who pertains to be a friend of my late father.
They all wear similar skull masks that only partially cover their faces, as is the tradition of the Anguis. Most gatherings such as this, they will adorn themselves with a skeleton-like covering. It doesn’t disguise their identities, but is an adherence to just one of their many inane society rituals.
Conformity. Reverence. Devotion. All in the name of the Anguis.
One by one, I’m pulled into hugs that linger too long and submit to hands that wander too freely over my body.
But I smile politely and greet them like they’re the exact people I had hoped to see tonight. All the while, biting back nausea with every moment spent suffocated by their proximity.
“It is such an honor to have you here.” One woman with horsey teeth and bleached hair strokes my arm. It takes everything not to flinch away from her touch.
“Here, let me help you with that, sweetie.” Another woman swipes the mask from my hands and starts fixing it over my face for me.
Their presence is cloying and overwhelming.
