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Madelena
The ballroom is decorated elegantly, the floor shining like a mirror and the chandeliers sparkling with brilliant golden light. I enter on Santos’s arm. His mother, Caius, and Ana follow us in. I can feel Ana’s gaze boring into the back of my head, but I don’t focus on it. She can’t hurt me. She can’t touch me unless I allow her to.
Unless I give her power.
She may know my past, all my ugly secrets. She may share them with Caius. Hell, she already has. But she can’t hurt me unless I allow her to.
Tonight’s event is probably the most important of the three. Local lawmakers are present as well as those from the tri-state area. Since De Léon Enterprises is headquartered here, it is the most important for the business.
The Avery family is here. Most of them, at least. Camilla, Liam, and their mother are seated a few tables away, and Camilla’s voice can be heard over the crowd as she charms every man and woman at their table. I don’t understand it. Don’t people see beyond the physical? She’s lovely to look at and listen to, but she’s rotten on the inside. I felt that from the first instant I saw her.
Ana and Caius are seated at their table, probably to keep an eye on them. There is one empty chair there. I know Santos noticed because I saw how his jaw tensed when he did.
Thiago Avery is missing tonight.
My father is here. He is seated at the table farthest from ours, banished to the shadowy corners when once he sat at the head of every table. He doesn’t smile or acknowledge me in any way, but he does glare at my husband.
I see how he picks up his usual drink with his left hand. Whiskey with dinner. Whiskey with breakfast. Not to mention lunch. The right one is gloved and rests uselessly on the table beside his untouched plate. I shudder at the thought of why that is and glance to my husband, who is laughing at a joke someone makes. How many sides are there to this man? His violence is at his core. It’s etched out in his skin. If these people saw that, saw him bared, would they smile so easily? Would they want his approval? His feigned friendship?
Then there’s the other side. This one. Genial. Relaxed. Socially acceptable among Avarice’s high society. This one doesn’t matter because it’s not real. It’s put on for people who don’t matter.
The way he is with me is another side. As I think it, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck under my hair. He gives a gentle, warm squeeze. I catch his mother’s glance when he does it, and I see how her eyes narrow infinitesimally. I won’t let her get to me tonight, either, because this is the side of my husband I like best. This is the side that makes my heart skip a beat and has me wishing I was alone with him. Wishing I had his weight on me and the strength of his arms circling me.
Waiters come to clear our plates, and in the midst of it, Odin appears at the back of my chair, setting a hand on my shoulder.
“Maddy,” he says. There are drops of rain on the shoulders of his jacket, and his hair is damp.
“Odin.” I take his hand, feel how cold it is.
“Santos,” he greets my husband with a nod.
Santos pushes his chair back and stands. “Odin.” He extends his hand to shake, but it takes Odin a moment. He does, although his smile is forced.
“Were you outside?” I ask.
“Just getting a breath of fresh air.”
“In this weather?” Santos asks.
“I’ve lived in Avarice all my life. It doesn’t bother me. If you don’t mind, I’ll take my sister for a dance.” The orchestra is playing a waltz, and several couples are already on the dance floor.
I watch my brother. Something is up. He sounds strange, his body too stiff, and I have a sinking feeling it might be about the image I passed on to him—the one of Santos at Uncle Jax’s house the night Uncle Jax died.
Santos’s expression shifts. I think he’s going to say no, but Odin doesn’t wait for a response. He shifts his full attention to me and holds out his hand, palm up.
I take it and stand, worry settling like a brick in my stomach.
“Of course,” Santos says because what else can he say with all these people watching?
Odin keeps my hand in his as we walk solemnly toward the dance floor. We weave through dancing couples to take a spot at their center, and I’m very aware we’re putting plenty of space between us and the Augustines. We begin to dance.
“What is it?” I ask when Odin doesn’t speak right away but only looks at me, worry etching his face.
“I watched you with him throughout dinner. You seemed not unhappy.”
I shrug, trying to appear casual although I feel guilty. “I was just glad not to have to be near Caius and Ana. Not to mention his mother. She is a witch. It’s confirmed.” He gives me a pitying smile. “What is it, Odin? Tell me.”
“How has he been with you?”
