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She’s clearly waiting for me to give her more information, but I just smile politely. “It is a very exciting time.”
“Congratulations, Dmitri,” Arnaud booms, patting him on the back. “There’s a lot to look forward to.”
“Business included?” Dmitri segues smoothly.
Arnaud’s laughter is like a loud belch. “Always. Come this way; let me show you to your table.”
As it turns out, they’ve reserved the best seats in the house for us. At least, that’s what Arnaud claims when he gestures towards the decked-out table in the center of the ballroom, right underneath the largest golden chandelier. The centerpieces are tiny, crystalline swan boats that hold arrangements of white roses and baby’s breath. I have to admit, it’s tasteful.
“We have some non-alcoholic champagne I can get for you,” Verity offers, patting my shoulder as she straightens up and snaps her fingers. A millisecond later, a waiter shows up and bends down to listen to her rattle off orders for all of us.
“Champagne for three, sparkling grape juice for this angel here. Canapes in the meantime because I just know that Wren’s darling baby is howling for food, if my own pregnancies were anything to go by. And bring plenty of everything, if you please.”
The waiter bows and scurries off. Verity looks like she’s ready to launch an inquisition on me, but I’m saved from that when someone comes up to her with questions and she’s carted off for hostessing duties.
I take a grateful breath as I slump down in my seat. It’s hard to keep my smile plastered in place, but I do my best, because it really does feel like everyone is watching me. Not all the smiles I’m getting are friendly, either. Some are suspicious, others openly hostile.
Of course, when I glance over at my husband, who’s been roped into yet another conversation with yet another pompous-looking businessman, I can’t help but understand. I’ve got the hottest catch in the city. Jealousy comes with the territory.
Dmitri excuses himself and comes to join me when he sees me looking. Breathing in my ear, he asks, “Doing okay?”
As soon as I can smell him, I feel more at ease. “Better now.” I graze his knee with one nail idly. “Everyone is staring.”
He smirks. “Good. That’s the whole point. Tonight is the perfect way to introduce you as my wife.” He cups my fingers in his and gives me a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “They’re also staring because you look fucking gorgeous. Who wouldn’t be able to keep their eyes off?—”
I look up only when I realize he’s left his sentence. I expect him to be staring at me, but his eyes are fixed on something over my shoulder.
“What is it? What’s?—”
Dmitri grabs my chin to stop me before I can turn to look. His face is suddenly winter itself, frozen over and terrifying.
“What’s going on?” I croak.
He clears his throat. When his voice comes out, though, it’s still a barely restrained growl. “Cian’s here.”
36
DMITRI
My first instinct is to pull out my gun and open fire on the insolent motherfucker.
The audacity. The fucking balls. To show up here knowing I would be coming… It seems like a fucking death wish to me.
Thankfully for him, I’m in the mood to be merciful. Maybe I’ll even let him walk out alive.
Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll?—
“Dmitri.” Wren’s hand cups my face, all tenderness and worry. “We’re in public. You can’t do anything crazy here.”
“Then we’d better go somewhere private.” I stand and offer her my hand. “Come. We’re leaving.”
“We just got here! We can’t let Cian chase us out of here. It’ll look bad.”
Fuck me, but she’s right. If we leave now, it’ll just look like I’m running from him. It’ll look like I’m the one who's scared, when he’s the one that should be.
I scan the crowd and cluck my tongue angrily. It annoys me that I’ve lost sight of him already. All I see is a crowd of tuxedos and glitter. No blond men with death marked on their foreheads.
“You’re right,” I concede. “But there’s no need for you to stay. Stay close to me until I can get you out of here.”
