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Rhys stared over my shoulder and laughed. I spun around to see what held his attention and found Cole with Hunter and Brax.
“You don’t own her, Marshall,” Rhys snapped. “So get lost.”
“Neither do you,” Cole countered. “Stop acting like you do.”
I waved to Hunter and Brax, both of which returned my gesture. They drank from the highball glasses in their hands and eyed up Rhys.
Hunter was taller than Cole and had more muscle, his arms thick beneath his suit, like a professional athlete. Brax was around the same height. He was cute and had curly, dark brown hair that flopped onto his forehead and got into his eyes. His naturally tanned skin was several shades darker than Cole’s summer glow.
Rhys dipped his head down, so his lips almost touched my cheek. “You’re mine, Grace. Wait until the old man makes it official.” He laughed in Cole’s face. “Always the last to know what The Founders are planning. You heard me. Grace ismine. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Without another word, he disappeared into the crowd.
ChapterThirty-Two
COLE
Rhys fucking Vanderbilt. That asshole always knew the right thing to say to rile me up. And if his words held any truth, I would lose my mind.
Grace wasn’t his.
She wasmine.
From the moment she walked into my house, I felt the need to save her. She’d lived a horrible life before she became Grace Hale, and I promised to be there for her.
Anything she needed.
Her Knight.
Her protector.
Rhys didn’t give a shit about Grace. He only cared about saving his ass.
Hunter put his hand on my shoulder. “Don’t listen to Rhys. He’s only trying to fuck with you.”
Hunter was my best friend. We’d known each other for so long that I couldn’t remember when we weren’t friends.
“I know,” I muttered. “But I can’t stop thinking about it.”
I downed the contents of my glass and nodded at the bartender for another. My eyes moved to Grace, who looked gorgeous in a strapless red dress.
She flicked her hair over her shoulder and giggled as Brax told her a joke. He’d been my friend almost as long as Hunter.
Most men in the room were The Devil’s Knights or The Founders Society members. I caught plenty of guests’ gazes darting in our direction. They wanted a good look at the only granddaughter of Fitzgerald Adams IV. This was Grace’s first time in the spotlight.
“Fitzy invited The Founders and The Devil’s Knights,” I pointed out. “He only does that when he has big news. I think Rhys might be right.”
Hunter shook his head. “No way. Fitzy hates the Vanderbilts. He wouldn’t let a scumbag like Rhys marry Grace.”
Pressing my lips together, I glanced at Grace. “She might be his heir, but Fitzy hates her. This could be another one of his punishments.”
Drake sauntered over to me, drink raised to his mouth. “Fitzy is up to something. I overheard him talking to Carl Wellington about the flight that killed Bastian and Damian’s parents.”
“Probably arguing over shares of Atlantic Airlines.”
“Maybe.” He took another sip of scotch. “But it sounded more intense than shares in a company.” Drake leaned into my arm and lowered his voice. “After this is over, we need to talk. Viktor made contact earlier.”
My eyes widened. “Okay, yeah.”
