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I guess I shouldn’t have been this petty earlier because now I’m in the same position as the staff member.
Blinking several times at him, I’m thinking what I should say next and decide to be honest. I don’t need him thinking I’m spying on or stalking him. He can forget about all that after yesterday! However, he deserves to know what’s going on and that someone uses him and his friends to get to me. Whatever connects him with the Church Killer must be huge, and while he might not want to share it, it might endanger those he cares about. And doesn’t it just sting that I’m not one of these people? “I need to talk to you. There is something—”
“I don’t give a fuck what it is. What part of “not interested in you” do you not understand?” I flinch at this, my fingers curling. I should hate him in this moment, and I probably would have, but his eyes…his eyes are filled with an emotion I cannot name while his body gravitates toward mine as this familiar heat rocks between us. For a second, my delusional mind almost believes he says one thing but feels another. He quickly kills this illusion, though. “No man likes desperate women, Isla.”
My God, what is it about this man that makes me a doormat, searching for scraps in hopes of him putting a show of hating me just so it won’t hurt so much to know he rejects me over and over again?
Penelope’s voice breaks the silence around us. “Hey!” she calls, and we both look at her. She’s stunning in her dress that showcases her figure in the most flattering way. “You’re here! Glad you got here okay!” My brow furrows at her cheery tone. I expected her to at least be pissed off for a while, considering what happened in and after the club. Instead, she walks to us, squeezing between Octavius and me so he has to step back, giving us more room. She hugs me close, and her flowery scent calms me a bit. Finally, a familiar face belonging to someone who’s semi nice to me. “What took you so long?”
It takes me a few seconds to understand she’s trying to save me from Octavius, and I sigh, grateful for this gesture even if I don’t deserve it. My insides are still too raw to have any type of conversation with a man who wishes to strangle my neck on a daily basis. “There was traffic on the road, and I forgot my invite.” I might as well play along.
Octavius darts his gaze between us, lifting his brow at Penelope, and she comes up with an explanation quick. “She wanted to see me, so we agreed to meet here.” She really doesn’t need to lie so hard for me since I got legitimately invited by the heir to the throne himself. I keep it to myself, though. Rebuffing her lies would be stupid now.
“Here?” he repeats, and she nods. “At this party? Who gave you the authority to invite anyone?” A shiver rushes down my spine at the coldness seeping through his question while he straightens up, and Penelope swallows hard.
She finds her voice again, though. “Remi.” She lifts her chin. “Or is that a crime now?”
Oh, she’s good.
Using her new husband as an excuse is the perfect save because Octavius won’t be able to argue that.
A smile curves his mouth and unreasonable jealousy washes over me at the sight of it; he has smiles for other women but reserves his frowns and growls for me. Only to gasp when he wraps his hand around my throat, pressing me into the wall as his thumb brushes over my pulse, breaking more goose bumps in his wake while we stare at one another as he leans closer, his stubble scratching my chin. “Do not wander around the mansion. Stay inside with the girls,” he orders, and at this moment, I can almost believe he cares about me as his hold on my neck becomes more gentle despite his finger flexing harsher on my throat. I want to scream at him and kiss him at the same time, which is such a disaster in itself.
Especially in the house where I have to watch my back and expect the unexpected due to all these cryptic messages.
“If anything happens to her here, your husband will pay the price.” He throws the threat Penelope’s way as we share a breath, and then he pushes back, going back to the party room and leaving us all speechless while I rub my fingers over my bruised skin, oddly missing his touch.
Maybe that’s lust that finally got into my head at the age of twenty-seven, so I obsess over a man who acts hot and cold with me, and instead of examining his motivation, I should focus on curing myself from this madness.
“I’m really confused about all this,” Penelope mutters as I rub my hand up and down my neck, hoping Octavius didn’t wipe off the foundation I’ve used to cover up his love bites from last night. “Am I the only one?”
She’s confused? She’s the one who married a stranger. It doesn’t get more confusing than that! No judgment from me, though.
“Octavius is usually very reserved. That’s so unlike him.” I blink in surprise, noticing two women standing beside me. Probably the “girls” he mentioned earlier, and they focus their attention on me.
The one who just spoke up, Briseis, grins at me. “You must have unsettled him.”
Her brown hair falls down her spine and contrasts with the silver dress that points out her unusual eyes. One is green and the other is dark brown, and they both shine with curiosity as amusement dances in them when she smiles wildly at me. Her pale skin is flawless besides some fading bite marks, and I blush just imagining how she got them.
After all, she married one of the dark four.
Sometimes it seems as if Santiago lives and breathes for his woman, and it’s so interesting and fascinating to see, considering he has been nothing but cold and reserved in the past. His marriage makes me think he’s actually human.
She’s soft and curvy, and while she can never be called beautiful in the classical sense of the word, she has a magnetic presence.
I chuckle inwardly, remembering how some magazine called her a plain woman who got lucky to score an eligible and handsome bachelor.
The journalist got fired on the same day. Simply put, Cortez men don’t take disrespect toward their woman well.
Since she stares at me, I clear my throat and reply, “He wants to kill me with his bare hands. I wouldn’t call that unsettled.” I don’t know much about Santiago’s wife but I don’t need anyone romanticizing our relationship or, God forbid, assume his behavior is normal.
Besides, he’ll turn ballistic if he learns they are trying to convince me he has the hots for me.
Penelope sighs, hooking a strand of her hair behind her ear while she gives me a once-over. “I think you need to stop stalking him.”
A melodic laughter greets that statement, and my eyes shift to the woman standing next to Briseis, and I gasp inwardly.
I’ve never seen a more stunning woman in my life.
