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I skim my eyes over the attendees in the time it takes Hugo to greet Alize—he kisses the back of her hand, much to my chagrin—and it dawns on me what a fucking vulnerability this whole gathering is.
To have the Empire captains here, along with their wives and girlfriends, all gathered under the same roof in a time of war seems like a dumbass move to make. I know for a fact they aren’t discussing any kind of strategy, so what the fuck is this shit for? As much as my father loves to act in control, his pride will always be his downfall.
He's committed to keeping up the ruse, to making everything seem like it’s fine, even if we’re losing control of more territory month after month, and alliances are being broken left, right and centre. But anyone with a keen eye would be able to tell—money is the last thing to go when a criminal organisation fails.
We might have a ton of it, but our men are getting killed in the streets. We’re losing our grip on local law enforcement, and it’s only a matter of time before our rivals start encroaching on our monopoly of the ports—the jewel in our crown.
It’s all a ticking time bomb.
Hugo introduces Alize to the woman on his arm, Felicity. As soon as the introductions are finished, I excuse us from their company, moving toward the centre of the room. I pick two flutes of champagne from the tower, and hand one to Alize.
She takes it. “Is she really fucking that ugly-ass man?” I almost choke on my champagne, earning a look from one of the women beside us.
“It’s the norm,” I say. “These women aren’t with them because of their looks.”
Alize snorts. “I can’t imagine being so young and stuck with someone so old and unattractive. I’d die.”
Her viewpoint sobers me up. “They don’t have a choice. Women get so few chances at freedom in our world that for many of them, their best bet is marrying an old, unattractive but rich man.”
She falls quiet, staring into her glass of champagne. She folds an arm around her middle, sucking in a breath and nibbling on her lip. I take a deep breath myself. I have no clue what’s on her mind, but whenever she bites her lips before she speaks, she’s about to say something deep.
“If we have a daughter, will you treat her like that?”
Okay, so I wasn’t expecting somethingthatdeep. A daughter? I imagine a carbon copy of Alize—hazel eyes and curly hair, with a mischievous streak that only ever comes out when she’s angry.
My stomach twists, and I realise how much I want that one day.
I hold Alize’s gaze while I think her question through. Her hazel eyes are wide, and she looks like she’s holding her breath.
“No,” I say finally. “I saw firsthand how suffocating this sort of shit is for women.” It killed my mum in this very house. “I would do my best to give her an opportunity to choose for herself.”
Alize isn’t satisfied with that answer. “So, you wouldn’t force her to marry a horrible man?”
“I would do my best to not let it come to that.” I take a sip of champagne. “But it’s not like any child we have will be able to just go out and marry anyone they want.”
“Why not?”
A sharp chuckle leaves me, and I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her closer to me. “Look around, sweetheart.” She does, her eyes skimming the crowd. “You’re in a room filled with some of the most dangerous people on the continent. One day soonIwill be the most dangerous man in this country. We’ll never have a ‘normal’ family.”
Alize doesn’t reply immediately. She just looks at me, then back at the crowd again.
Sometimes, I want to meet Alize’s father just to punch him in the fucking face. He did her a huge disservice by keeping her sequestered all that time and then sending her to SFU. I gave up my aspirations for a “normal” life years ago. Sometimes, it feels like Alize still holds on to that.
“You’re right,” she says finally. She’s about to say something else when her gaze catches on something in the distance. It’s enough to make her swallow her words.
I follow her line of sight.
A pocket in the crowd gives us a clear view across the room. It’s my father, and he’s glaring at the two of us, even though there’s a smile on his mouth because he’s talking to a group of people.
The real kicker, though, is that he’s got a woman on his arm.
And there’s a fucking ring on her finger.
FOURTEEN
ALIZE
Alexander’s half-draggingme across the room.
