Page 83 of The Unravelings

“Vote Franco,” I mock, twisting my face.

“Watch yourself,” JJ mutters, keeping his gaze on the stage.

Franco shakes more hands, quietly speaking with the fucking president of the nation and Preston.

“This doesn’t seem real,” I mumble. “Is this real life? A dream? Ouch!” I miss, slapping JJ’s hands away from pinching my arm.

“Obviously not a dream. This is a fucking nightmare,” Hux hisses, leaning closer to us than Amanda. “With him becoming mayor⁠—”

“He’ll be in charge of this entire city!” Amanda says enthusiastically, beaming at Franco and her father, who wander off the stage and come toward us. “Isn’t that exciting? Once we’re married, we’ll be the ultimate power couple!”

Hux slowly blows out a breath, hiding the irritation simmering behind his eyes. He hides it well. Actually, he hides everything well. The ultimate secret keeper. I couldn’t keep a damn secret to save my life. I tell these idiots everything.

“I’m so fucking thrilled.” Sarcasm drips from every word, but it seems to travel right over Amanda’s head when she leans on him and wraps an arm around his with a squeal.

“It’ll be perfect! I can’t wait to start planning our venue and flowers, and oh! What we’ll serve our guests. I say we serve chicken and steak!”

“Steak sounds lovely, darling,” Preston says, gently kissing her temple with a chuckle. None the wiser to the tension rising in Huxley, who, to the untrained eye, looks serene, holding his fiancée. But to JJ and me, it’s clear the frustration is boiling inside him.

“Wedding talk?” Franco asks, grinning from ear to ear. I’ve never seen the man so damn happy in my life.

Except right now, when more power is at his fingertips and more potential is on the horizon. Fuck, what does he plan to do with this mayor role? Probably something dangerous.

“Oh! We were discussing our engagement party and wedding details,” Amanda practically coos as her words slur more, pulling away from Hux and leaning into her father, who stares down at her with hardened eyes.

“Dipping into the alcohol a little, Mandy?” he asks sternly, with flaring nostrils.

She stiffens in his hold, her eyes widening a little.

“Only a few glasses of champagne, Daddy. Nothing too much!” Her breath picks up slightly as he assesses her and then kisses her temple again with a heavy breath.

“I guess we do have quite a few events to celebrate, don’t we? A mayor in our midst. A wedding on the horizon. It’s all coming together, isn’t it?” A grin stretches his lips, and Amanda nods, clapping with excitement.

“It is quite a night to celebrate,” Franco agrees, straightening his tie.

“So, mayor?” Huxley asks, cocking a brow. “That’s a new development.”

Franco narrows his eyes. “As are your brash questions. If you must know, this has been in the works for many weeks. My bid has already been submitted and the fees paid.”

“He’s a shoo-in for mayor. The competition can’t touch his influence,” Preston boasts with a chuckle. “If he had any competition.”

Franco laughs. “Indeed.”

“No one is running against you?” JJ asks carefully. Way more carefully than Hux did.

“Well, not exactly.” A smirk pulls at Franco’s lips. “There are two people who have put their bids in. But there’s no competition for me. I know this city and its citizens like the back of my hand. I’m confident I’ll be the last man standing.”

Oh, great. This is going to end in a bloodbath of epic proportions. Two candidates? What candidates? Nothing will be left of them after Franco eliminates the competition. Not with the look in his eyes.

I side-eye Hux and JJ. They’re rigid with locked muscles. Just like me.

“But we won’t worry about them,” Preston says ominously.

“Indeed,” Franco waves over a waiter and passes out a few glasses of champagne to each of us. “Now, why don’t we toast to the future. Your future,” he says to Amanda and Huxley by tilting his glass to them.

“And to you and your political future. Who knows, one day you may be president,” Preston chuckles, clinking his glass on Franco’s.

And to me, for not jumping out the window and running from this hellscape. Is what I want to say, but I’m a gentleman and shit, so I bite my tongue and raise my glass like a good little soldier, reveling in the taste of the bubbles slipping down my throat and smacking my lips together.