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My gaze darts to another table where Hugo is seated. His nose is crooked, and half his face is swollen with bruises.
Damien did that.
For me.
Only when I see the damage Damien did to Hugo’s face do I realize there are no bruises on Damien. Vince walks in, and he, too, looks like he ran face first into a wall.
As Vince takes a seat, his eyes meet mine. I let my mouth curve up in a sneer to show him I’m not rattled by what he did.
Bastard.
DAMIEN
Last night she took a beating, and she must have a hangover from the drug, but still, there she sits. I watch the daring smile curve around her lips as she faces off with Vince, and it makes the now familiar feeling stir in my chest.
Respect.
Winter Hemsley doesn’t cower before her enemies. She’s braver than most men I know. And it only makes me want her more.
Christ, I want to own that wild spirit of hers.
“I heard what happened,” Carson says as he takes a seat, a dark frown marring his forehead. “Why did you intervene?”
“She owes me now,” I mutter.
Carson’s eyes lock on mine. “I wasn’t aware you were conducting business on the grounds.”
“I’m not, but having the Hemsleys in my debt was worth it.”
Carson nods, then he turns his gaze to Winter. “Did you at least fuck her out of your system?”
No, I held her all fucking night like she was mine.
“Stop worrying about it. I won’t fuck up as your custodian,” I assure him.
Carson brings his eyes back to me. “You better not. The auction is tomorrow night at eight.”
What?
“When did you hear this?” I ask.
“If you weren’t so absorbed with the Blood Princess, you would’ve seen the invite. It’s probably in your quarters.”
I get up so fast it sends the chair toppling back, and without another word, I leave the dining room. When I shove my door open, I spot the black envelope. Picking it up, exhilaration begins to slither down my spine.
I open the envelope, and my eyes scan over the gold embroidered words. I have one hour left to RSVP. Walking to my bedroom, I pick up my phone and text the code provided to the number.
Instantly my phone beeps, and the message appears.
RESERVED.
It’s happening. I’m finally done with this place. In two days, I’ll leave with Carson, and we’ll join Demitri and Alexei.
Fucking finally.
Knowing everything I’ve worked so hard for is within my grasp, I leave my quarters and walk to the sparring studios. I have to be in my best shape for tomorrow night.
When I walk into the studio where most of the training equipment is held, Paulie grins at me. “You’re going to miss me.”
I shake my head. “Not a chance in hell.”
I strap on a pair of shin guards and the rest of my gear, then make my way over to a punching bag so I can warm up. I spend thirty minutes punching the shit out of the bag before I grab a jumping rope.
“Fuck off,” I hear Winter growl.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watch as she straps on her gear with Hugo standing over her.
“One last fight,” he grumbles.
Winter’s head snaps up, and her features are tight with anger. “I said fuck off, Lamos. I don’t waste my time on cowards.”
It looks like they’re a second away from tearing into each other when Grandmaster Yeoh walks into the studio. “Miss Hemsley, you’re with me.”
She gives Hugo a last dark glare before she shoves past him to join Grandmaster Yeoh.
I begin with my rope jumping session while watching Winter train. She doesn’t miss a beat even though she must feel like shit after last night.
Tearing my eyes away from her, I focus on my own training until my sweat soaks my clothes.
Tomorrow I’m done with this place.
I’ll become Carson’s custodian.
He’ll get his first contract, and I’ll make sure he’s safe while he takes out the target.
I keep repeating the words as I move from doing situps to the weight bench.
After tomorrow Winter will no longer be a distraction.
Chapter 11
WINTER
All training has been canceled for the day, and I thought I’d be able to sleep in late, but I’m woken by the incessant ringing of my phone.
Squinting at the screen, I see Cillian’s name flashing and grumble, “What? I’m sleeping.”
“Get up and dressed. Your father and brother are here, and I’m bringing them to the academy in thirty minutes.”
“What?” I gasp as I shoot upright in the bed. “They’re here? Why?”
“The auction.”
Oh, right.
“Still, they should be on the island,” I argue.
“They get to see you for a day, poppet. Get ready.” Cillian ends the call, and I drop the phone back on the bedside table.
Honestly, I’ve missed them, and I can do with some family time.
I get up and walk to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, my eyes drift over the bruises.
