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Still no Perry.
“I was hoping my brother would join us, but it looks as if he’s preoccupied. Most likely making a business deal in the bathroom,” Winston says to tepid laughter.
Huh. Maybe that is where he’s at. He did drink an abundance of champagne earlier this evening.
Pushing my way through the crowd, I head for the restrooms, in search of my husband. If I get to him in time, I’m sure he’ll be able to make his speech and no one would be the wiser that he almost missed it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Perry
Normally I’d relishfinding myself in this situation. Ready to head back out, only for my archnemesis, my biggest enemy to stroll into the bathroom like no big shit. As if he belongs here. I’d sling an endless string of insults at him and sock him square in the fucking jaw, sending him to the ground. His head would bounce off the cold tile floor and I’d jump on top of him, grab the front of his shirt and slam the back of his head into the floor again.
And again.
I’d take great pleasure in bringing this asshole pain. I’d probably take even greater pleasure in ending his life, knowing he’d never be a problem in our lives again.
None of that happens though. Not when the guy I hate more than anyone else in the entire fucking world is standing in front of me with a gun clutched in his right hand, that very hand twitching nervously, his finger resting on the trigger.
Fuck me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, my voice calm yet edged with steel.
Seamus grins and it’s downright maniacal, I swear. Straight out of a horror movie. “I was invited.”
“Bullshit.”
“Watch your mouth.” He rubs the outside of his thigh with the barrel of the gun and I promise myself right then that my eyes can never leave it. “You Constantines are so damn stupid, with all of your extra security you put into place. Yet all a person has to do is say, ‘I’m here for the Halcyon party,’ and they let any old loser in.”
I remain quiet while Seamus laughs, the sound grating and I consider lunging for him. Knocking the gun out of his hand. Would I be fast enough? I’m younger. Probably quicker too. But all it would take is his finger pulling the trigger and he could get me.
Can’t risk it. I’m about to be a father. I need to stay alive for my baby’s sake.
And my wife’s.
We both remain quiet until I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin.
“What do you want?” I bite out.
“Your wife. She belonged to me first, you know.” His gaze turns distant as I assume his memories of the time he spent with Charlotte hit him. I try to ignore his use of the words, she belonged to me first.
Well she belongs to me now, asshole.
“You were merely assigned her,” he continues. “While she chose me.”
How the hell does he know this? That our marriage wasn’t real at first? Who told him? A Morelli? Hell, did Charlotte tell him?
No way. She wouldn’t do that.
“Your relationship is meaningless.” His dark gaze alights on me, his focus returning. “She may have married you, but she doesn’t actually care about you. It’s in name only.”
I consider telling him it’s changed, but I can’t let on that she means something to me. That would be a mistake.
“She willingly left with me that day, you know,” he continues, his smile cruel when he aims it at me.
I make a dismissive noise. “Bullshit. Youterrifyher, you psychotic asshole. She would never leave with you willingly.”
He blinks at me, appearing confused. What, is he shocked I would defend her? I’m not like her family, who have such little faith in Charlotte. I know her, better than anyone else.
