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“No! That's not allowed, Kitten. You can't just choose one of us. I have the best dick.”
“Says who?” Jericho scoffs.
“Kitten, tell them,” he says with such confidence.
“I'm not answering that. I'm mad at the two of you. I'm a human being,” I grumble into Shepp's chest. “I already have one man who thinks he owns me, I don't need you two.”
“Satin alert,” Arrow hums.
“Jericho Viotto,” a breezy voice says, coming from behind me.
I sigh, slowly turning on my heel to face the beauty queen I saw from afar. This time, though. There’s no Leighton clinging onto her.
“Chloe,” he mutters with a respectful nod. “Fancy seeing you here. How have you been?” he asks politely, but just like his father, I see the rage simmer beneath the surface.
There's something about this woman that irks him.
“Oh, you know,” she giggles, covering her shimmering lips with her delicate fingers. “Father and I have been traveling for a few months. Made it through France and Spain. It was beautiful! Have you ever been?” As she speaks, she twirls a piece of her platinum blonde hair between her fingers, only looking at Jericho with hearts in her eyes. Only, I can’t tell if she’s for real or putting on a show for Jericho’s sake. Or maybe someone in the room is watching this exchange.
Several waiters walk past Arrow with hors d’oeuvres and more champagne. He quickly grabs several snacks, forcing them into his mouth, and another glass. The woman carrying the tray side-eyes Arrow with disdain, shaking her head.
“What?” he asks with a mouth full of food. “You’re carrying it. I’m hungry.”
I snort, stealing a snack from his hand and popping it into my mouth. “Mmm. Delicious.”
“No, never have,” Jericho hums, staring over her head without remorse.
She doesn't falter, though. “So, you guys finally made it to your initiation! How does it feel to be men of the family? You must feel so good after all those years of watching.”
“Watching?” Arrow scoffs. “We've had blood up to our elbows. There was no watching.”
I internally snort when she sends him a dirty look and turns her attention back to Jericho.
“Is there something I can do for you?” he asks her in a tired tone, borderline bored.
Her face falls, tinting red. “Well, I just wanted to say hello. We've been in each other's company for years now at these things,” she titters.
My face hardens when she finally slips up and looks me over with a scathing gaze, curling her lip with disgust.
“Hello, then. Now, goodbye,” Jericho snarks, grabbing my hand.
“You won't be saying that in thirty minutes,” she sing-songs.
“Oh, and why is that?” Jericho asks, stiffening when she runs a finger down the front of his suit.
“Because, we're destined for one another.” She smiles again, rocking on her toes. “You weren't meant for trailer trash.” Her nose immediately goes in the air when she turns to walk away.
“Don't worry, I'll smother her while she sleeps. She won't feel safe. Ever,” Arrow threatens, causing her to falter her steps until she's out of sight.
“That fucking does it,” Jericho grits out, squeezing his champagne flute so hard, it shatters in his hand. “My father has meddled. And not in a good fucking way.”
“Jericho,” I murmur, rushing forward to take his hands. He grits his teeth, attempting to snatch his hands back, but I tsk at him. “You're bleeding.”
“I'll be fine, Little Chaos. I just need to figure out what the hell my father is up to. I need to have a fucking word with him about what he thinks he’s done. There’s no way I’ll be marrying that manipulative homewrecker.” His jaw tics again, not showing any sort of pain.
I lick my lips. “Obviously he has something up his sleeve. Never show him your emotions, Jer,” I murmur, running my fingers over the blood on his palm.
“Sage advice,” he retorts, grabbing my hand in his bloodied palm.
