Smoking is a solid cover.
I couldn’t possibly be eavesdropping on their conversation. I’m simply getting my nicotine fix.
I edge closer to the railing, doing my best to pick up what’s being said.
It doesn’t help.
A few words here or there are discernible, but they clearly don’t want to be overheard—at least at first.
“She’s twenty-five years old. I don’t know what you expect the medical exam to tell you,” Julian says.
I frown.
It’s not midnight yet, meaning Vanessa is twenty-four. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but I swear to fuck if Grigoryan is concerned with Vanessa’s virginity status, I’ll gut him myself.
He’s a sick fuck.
The man has already made his way through three wives. If he’s that obsessed with the idea of having a woman with no experience, he needs to sit down and evaluate why that is. If I were to guess, I’d say his obsession stems from concern that his sexual skills are lacking—I’m sure they are—and if his wife has previous partners, she’ll recognize just how bad in bed he is.
“You promised I’d have the results from her medical exam in my hands before our engagement party,” Grigoryan snaps.
“And you will,” Julian says with a huff. “I will ensure Vanessa sees my physician at some point in the next two weeks. I just can’t guarantee what those results will be.”
“You’d best hope you’ve kept a leash on her,” Grigoryan says. “She’s a multi-million dollar investment.”
I nearly scoff.
At most, he plans to keep her for three or four years before some unfortunate series of events ends with her death certificate. Then he’ll start his wife search all over again.
Taking a final drag of my cigarette, I lean over the railing, flicking it at Grigoryan’s head. My mother would have my ass for littering, but this one time it’s worth it.
Hopefully it burns off the remaining seven hairs in Grigoryan’s comb-over.
Vanessa isn’t hard to track down. She leans against the wall near the hallway that leads to the restrooms. It also accesses the employee-only areas, preparation rooms that can be used for the host to dress or undress, and dead-ends in the kitchen.
The O’Connors opted out of serving a full dinner, and truthfully, I wouldn’t want to feed these assholes either.
I stride across the room, ignoring everyone.
If anyone is paying attention, it’ll look suspicious that I’m carting Vanessa off to one of the private rooms, but it also lays the groundwork for the plan I’ve been working on.
She’s probably going to hate me before she can appreciate the fact I’m putting my neck on the line for her… Ultimately, I can live with her ire, and she can too. If she ends up Grigoryan’s wife number four, she’ll be dead before she has the chance to truly live.
Chapter Five
Vanessa
Some might consider having to attend their ex-fiancés’ wedding party to be a slap in the face, but all I can muster is apathy.
I dodged a bullet there.
We would have been miserable together.
Even knowing I had zero interest in marrying the O’Connors, I can admit that I’m a little jealous of how well they treat Charlotte—Candice—whatever she’s going by these days.
I’m not having second thoughts about sabotaging our marriage contract. I’d just like it if I could find someone who would show me even an ounce of the care Patrick, Malachy, and Cormac give her.
My only real chance at that is if I find a way to fake my own death, but even if I ran, I’d never be able to truly relax. I’d constantly have to look over my shoulder. My father would continue to hunt me solely out of spite.
