Page 92 of A Vicious Love

Good.

I didn’t give a fuck.

By midnight, I had said it enough times that even I was tired of hearing it. I went home because staying at the casino meant Harrison might come back. Rain blurred the city into black glass and gold. I took off my jacket, threw it over a chair, and loosened the buttons at my throat.

My phone buzzed.

I ignored it.

It buzzed again.

A Veil notification lit the screen where it lay on the bar.

Harlan Arts Live: Winter Midnight Ballet Special— Sold-Out Performance Streaming Now.

I stared at it.

No. Absolutely not. I reached for a cigarette instead.

Lit it.

Took one drag.

The notification remained there, glowing faintly. Background news, I told myself.

That was all.

Veil streamed major society arts events all the time. The ballet had been everywhere since Sienna’s last performance went viral. Harlan would talk about it tomorrow. It was useful to monitor what society watched. Useful to know which families attended, who sat where, who paid for boxes, who put their daughters on display near influence.

Business.

That was why I opened it.

Nothing more.

The stream filled the wall screen.

The theatre appeared first. Black velvet. Gold balconies. A stage framed by old carved wood and pale blue lighting. The camera moved in one slow, expensive sweep across the audience.

Harlan loved seeing itself before it watched anything else. Patrons lifted glasses. Veil tags moved softly at the bottom of the screen.

BELLEMERE HEIRESS RETURNS AFTER INJURY.

VIRAL VARIATION EXPECTED IN SECOND ACT.

My cigarette burned between my fingers.

Bellemere heiress. My did those words bother me. The feed shifted to the front row. Four Crow cousins sat there.

Front fucking row.

Crow men did not sit front row at ballet. Four vultures wearing my name sat close enough to count the beads on her costume.

The first cousin sat far left.

Dante Crow from Malice.

Beside him sat Rafe Crow from Harrington.