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She grins. "So, I can do anything I want?"
"Anything," I say, and I'm met with a giggle. Fuck, I love that sound. "What would you like to drink? Sparkling water?"
"Apple juice in a rocks glass," Alize quips. "So I look tough."
That pulls a smile from me.
Standing in line for the bar, I take a better look at the people in the room. Most of them are allies of the Empire in some way, yet not all of them get their hands as dirty as we do. It seems like a pretty equal mix of criminals and people from the business community. There are a few politicians here as well.
I put in our order with the bartender while Alize stands beside me, talking about what our wedding could look like. She might have laughed, but I was dead serious about marrying her in our bedroom. The details don't mean much, but I will get her whatever makes her happy because her smile means the world to me.
Even if parties aren't my thing.
The bartender hands me our drinks and I pass Alize her apple juice that looks a lot like an old-fashioned. I knock back my whiskey sour, just as my eyes lock with someone in the crowd.
Ottilie Welser.
And she's making her way over to us, with her father in tow.
Fuck.
TWENTY-SIX
ALIZE
I takethe drink from Alexander, sipping it like it's actually whiskey and not semi-sweet apple juice. Now that Alexander is in on my ruse, it's so much more fun. News of the pregnancy would be the most scandalous thing in this room by a long shot, yet nobody knows.
It's a special kind of thrill.
Alexander's twisted away from me to survey the crowd, and I do the same, leaning into him. His hand wraps around me to pull me closer. A few of the faces here, I recognize from the party at the estate.
Most of them though, I'm seeing for the first time.
They know of me, though. It's obvious in the way their gazes linger, the way they lean in to whisper when they think I can't see them. I don't feel put off by it though. If anything, it makes me feel a little more confident.
My eyes skate over the attendees, basking in the beauty of the decor at the same time. As much as I dislike Alex's father and his new fiancée, I have to admit that they know how to throw a party. There's a living wall to one end of the room—a variety ofrealvines and shrubs flowering white and peach blooms set on a crystal lattice that stretches all the way up to the ceiling, disappearing into a poof of wispy cloud-like smoke.
It's gorgeous.
I spend a long time staring at the clouds at the top.
Then my eyes fall to a figure standing at the base of the flower wall, and my apple juice nearly falls from my grip. There's a man standing there, his body partially obscured by the outcropping of greenery.
But I would recognize him anywhere.
The aloof stance. The close cropped hair. I can't see his face, but I remember exactly what it looks like the last time I saw him, almost a year ago.
My father.
I tighten my grip on Alexander's arm. Despite all the lights in the room, that part of the room is covered in shadows from the wall. The longer I stare at the figure, the less sure I am that it's actually my father, because it doesn't make sense.
What would he be doinghere?
This place is too public. How would he even know I would be here?
Alexander finally looks down at me, his face creased with worry. Did he see him too? I tip my head to the wall of flowers. He squints in the direction I pointed.
"What's wrong?" he asks me, his eyes searching my face.
