“I can see that.” Eduard looks over my shoulder. “What are you up to?”
“Me? I’m just enjoying whatever he has planned for the evening.”
“And where’s the boy?”
“Vee’s in his room, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Mr Gryphon’s waiting in his room right now, and the boy’s not there. Try again.”
I force a carefree shrug. “It’s a big house, and he’s ten. Maybe he’s exploring.”
“The police will want to know,” Eduard says calmly. “So hopefully, he turns up soon.”
That sends ice sluicing through my veins. “The police?”
“On their way as we speak.”
Does he know what Dominik intends to do? There’s no emotion in Eduard’s voice, nothing in his expression, and I can’t tell whether he’s lying or enjoying this. Maybe he’s simply malicious. He didn’t give me that impression on the ship, but men have a way of surprising me for the worse. I sway, suddenly overcome by panic and dizziness. He still has a grip on my arm, and I think it’s the only thing keeping me up.
Eduard smiles thinly. “Let’s go wait for your son in his room.”
Vee’s voice drifts out into the entryway, and Eduard’s head whips around. There are a handful of people showing no sign of heading to the dining hall, but everyone else has squeezed in there. “Er, hi. We need everyone to be really, really quiet, please.”
He shouts at the top of his voice, but the noise level drops quickly. The guests know him as their host’s—veryrich—son, and they probably feel compelled to listen to him.
Eduard tugs me along, sparing me an exasperated glance before pushing me ahead of him and into the hall; just in time to see Vee jump down from the table. It’s been moved to form a sort of barricade, leaving an unobstructed stretch of wall for the projection. It’s too packed for Eduard to haul me very far into the room. We end up stuck in a knot of people, his hand wrapped around my upper arm as if I might turn into a snake and slither away.
The lights suddenly go off, but before the buzz of conversation can start up again, the projection flares to life. It’s a little blurry, but a split screen shows Dominik and me as wewere during the call, on opposite sides. Eduard’s hand tightens on my arm, and I clench my teeth. Still, I force myself to watch the playback, even though I taste acid in the back of my throat and my eyes prickle. It’s humiliating to have all these strangers see how I let Dominik manipulate me, but it’s necessary.
The sound is tinny but just about audible as long as no one rustles. As my image pales on the screen, several guests around us go flying, and shouts start to ring out. I end up knocked into Eduard’s chest as Dominik appears in front of us, mowing through the surrounding people. Furious whispers ripple through the crowd. Betrayal burns in Dominik’s eyes as Eduard steadies me.
Dominik’s face is scarlet red, and I know he’s hating every second of this. It’s only a small consolation, but it’s mine—right before the crowd thins and parts around a couple of officers. They wear black shirts and dark trousers, thick belts and heavy boots. Police-issue tasers are the only weapons they carry but they’re lethal enough to be wary of. Nausea claws at my stomach as I’m surrounded, my chest so tight I can barely breathe.
Please don’t let this all have been for nothing.
Two men take hold of either arm, but it’s a woman who cuts an imposing figure that demands my attention. “Ma’am, where is your son?”
I swallow hard, but I don’t open my mouth. It’s not like they won’t find him if they empty the room, but I’m not saying shit.
Several things happen at once: a gasp echoes across the room, Dominik’s head snaps up, and the lights come on. As more people notice us, they turn to watch the real show. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, bolstered by titters and angry muttering. I hear, “—blackmails the mother of their child?”
It’s too early to feel relief, but I can at least straighten my spine and look the woman in the eye. I wield my embarrassment like a blade. The crowd gets louder and louder, but no one moves as she reads me my rights. She takes hold of my arm—already sore from all the manhandling—and walks me out of the dining hall. It’s hard to keep my head held high but I remind myself that I’m done letting Dominik win, and at least they didn’t cuff me.
Small triumphs.
Dominik follows behind, and just before I’m pushed into a police vehicle, reaches for me. I react on instinct, and slap his hand away, incredulous. The officers either side of me react fast, one grabbing my free arm, the other pulling his taser out; but he points it at Dominik, not at me. My tripping heartbeat is almost worth the expression of abject horror on his face.
He throws his hands up. “I was just going to push her sleeve back into place.”
In the chaos, it had slipped down my shoulder. I look at it dispassionately, then back at him. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
The woman helps me into one of the hovercars, and I watch Dominik’s flushed face recede in the rear-view mirror. Fatigue weighs my bones down, even as adrenaline rushes through my body. At the nearest station, they put me in a small interrogation room, but I refuse to say a word. My lawyer is in Neo-London, obviously, so the officers let me look one up, kicking myself the whole time for not researching one beforehand.
Hina Raomuri shows up with leggings and flats in my size, then ushers me into a private room where I curl up on the sofa and burst into tears.
Thanks to my expensive lawyer, I’m released at something like four o’clock in the morning. Despite Dominik’s claims, the police have a lot of conflicting evidence to wade through and no grounds to hold me. I let Hina speak for me all morning, and she offers to drive me home afterwards. She’s a Suryavan in her fifties with long hair she wears in a braided crown and an impeccable suit. Her vibe isn’t very maternal, but I leaned on her so heavily all night that I’ve formed some weird attachment to her.
It’s a nice offer, and it makes me burst into another round of tears, standing in the vestibule of the station, with my heels hanging from one hand. My mouth tastes like hell, there’s grit in my eyes, and I am so. Fucking. Tired.
