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“Babe, you’re living up to your name…a stone-cold Fox. Look at that dress.” A gentle voice cuts through my thoughts as Poe sweeps up to me, glittering in her own silvery gown with delicate metallic chain straps. She looks like a gorgeous badass, immediately offering me a glass of champagne as she holds her own in the other manicured hand.
This is absolutely the only person I would even consider accepting a drink from in this place.
“The whole thing looks amazing.” Even though Noire House was my home, there were entire wings I never set foot in. This ballroom was only a place I glimpsed on occasion. I never did come to an event held here when I was younger—mostly because I was too afraid of catching the eye of one of my father’s friends.
But even knowing what this place represents, I can’t help but admire the way Poe has worked magic to create a stunning club and event—working to erase the stains of the past. It's my father’s friends intermingling with the Anguis in attendance that turn the whole thing rancid.
“Thank you. Although I gotta say, I much prefer when it’s simply the club, rather than the pretentiousness of these do’s the council insist on us putting on…you’ll have to come sometime.” Her eyes drift to where Ky and Raven stand talking with Hawke. Two other gorgeous men, who I assume must be Poe’s other partners, are with them.
The reason I know it’s Hawke and not Thorne is because the man in question has been a ghost for nearly a whole week now. Apparently, he’s supposed to be in attendance tonight, but so far, he’s made himself scarce.
“The club?” I take a sip of my champagne. “Do you think they’d allow me to?” My eyes dart between Ky and Hawke where they stand together talking. There’s something so different in the way they interact compared to how he behaves with Thorne.
In the couple of times I’ve seen him around Hawke, I can see the brotherly banter sitting front and center in their dynamic…but with the other Calliano brother, the energy swirls in an entirely different direction, and there’s a thought that sways on the outskirts of my brain, but I don’t put a voice to it.
“Allow you to?” Poe scoffs. “It’s your inheritance. Your club by all rights. Tell you what, fuck whatever they might say; I’m sending you our guest registration right now.” She whips out her phone and starts typing. This girl isn’t afraid of these men, and it gives me a little dash of courage in my own quest to learn how best to survive them and their world.
Almost immediately, my phone vibrates inside my clutch.
“How…” I pull it out and see there’s a message from a new contact and Poe is smirking at me over the bubbles dancing in her champagne flute. “How did you get my number?”
She mimes zipping her lips and chucking the imaginary key over one shoulder. “Thank me later. Better yet, even if you never fill out that form, promise you’ll come and at least tour the club with me, ok?”
“You’re trouble.” I shake my head and quickly save her contact.
“I’m the tame one. Just wait til you meet my bestie, Rita. That’s when you know the night is going to get really wild.”
At the mention of girlfriends and nights out, my heart stalls a little. I miss Em something shocking, and I have no idea if I’ll ever see her again.
I deflate like a worn-out helium balloon, and Poe’s brows crease together as she notes the shift in my body language.
“I don’t know if girls like me get to have girls' nights. When you’re just a means to exact revenge against a dead man, your life ceases to exist.”
Poe cocks her head. Her eyes fill with what I can only hope is compassion rather than pity. I don’t know her full story yet, but I get the impression she at least understands…even if her circumstances of entering the world of the Anguis were different.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Fox…but has Thorne only mentioned your father to you in all this?” There’s an expression on her face that’s hard to read.
I’m busy trying to form words when there’s a noise from the crowd as someone calls out Poe’s name. There’s a group of what must be her club regulars waving her over and she gives me an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, Fox. My VIPs are a horny bunch to keep satisfied. I bet they want the inside goss on plans for the next club open night.” Before I can grill her about what Poe meant by her cryptic statement about Thorne, she’s gone. Swallowed up by the sea of dinner jackets and gowns.
People I have no interest in speaking with spot that I’m isolated from the herd once more and come up to me in droves. All the while, I drain my glass and smile as they talk about my father as if he wasn’t a festering boil of a human.
My clutch vibrates, and I quickly excuse myself to check the message. It's another from Poe.
Sorry, I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth.
If Thorne wants to tell you…he will.
Tell me what? I want to text back and demand answers because I’m so sick and tired of all this bullshit and secrecy. But then the string quartet in the corner strikes up and I’ve immediately got a slimy old man with dyed hair and a leering smile filling my vision, asking me to dance.
And because I’m here to be punished, I have to say yes and do so with a gracious smile.
I love how I look tonight. Secretly, I swooned like a heart-eyed schoolgirl when I heard Ky’s low whistle, catching the way he devoured every inch of my figure the moment he laid eyes on me. I’m in a floor-length velvet gown the color of obsidian, with a thigh-high slit and a soft draped scoop of fabric across my breasts.
But there’s no worse feeling than having this creep lay his hands all over me under the pretense of the occasion. He’s doing little more than making a brash attempt to feel up the Noire House heir in front of his pathetic band of Gathered.
He’ll probably be front row at the Pledging, too. Angling for the best position to watch me spread my legs.
