Page 21 of The Arbiter
"Someone you should have prayed never to meet," I respond.
Another beat of suffocating silence follows. Then, slowly, his confidence starts to return.
"Right,” he lets out a short, hollow laugh.
"Okay. Creepy rich guy with a mask fetish. Got it."
Now he's really starting to piss me off. Adrenaline rises with every word that leaves his mouth. This is going to be so much fun. I can’t fucking wait. I'll replace that arrogance with begging. For his life. No. For me to even have the mercy to end it quickly would be too kind. I won't.
"So here's what's going to happen. You're going to walk out of this room, go back to your little masquerade party, and forget this conversation happened,” he states confidently, trying to reclaim his status.
I don't move. I don’t even blink. The corner of his mouth twitches. The temperature in the room drops another degree. He stares at me now, really staring, searching for a weakness he won’t find.
My voice drops to a whisper, because this is the last thing he will hear from me. For now.
"Here's what's actually going to happen. I'll knock you out. Give you sedatives. Throw you in my car. You will wait there, unconscious, while I go to my girl and fix what you have already fucked up. And then? Then we have some real fun."
I let the promise of that “fun” hang in the air.
His expression is unreadable, but his whole body tenses at my threat. It isn’t just a threat anymore. It’s a vow.
"You know what? I'm done with this."
He turns toward the door. Big mistake.
Because the moment he moves past me, he's already down.
CHAPTER 6 - Madeline
The music hits me first. Loud. Bright. Wrong.
I push through the heavy curtain. The noise of the party crashes over me like a wave. Glasses clinking, laughter, the low pulse of bass vibrating through the floor. For a second I just stand there, breathing too fast, trying to focus. Where is Lucy?
My heart is still racing. Not because of Jake. Because of the man standing in the hallway outside the private salon. The one in the dark suit. The mask. My stomach twists.
I saw him. For a moment, when I stepped out of that room, he was only a few steps away. Tall. Still. Watching. The same presence that haunted the morgue corridors. The same one that whispered my name. Touched me. What the hell is he doing here?
“Madeline?”
Lucy's voice cuts through the noise.
I turn and spot her near the bar, half-hidden between two coworkers. The second she sees my face her expression shifts immediately, amusement disappearing, concern replacing it. She pushes past the people around her and reaches me in seconds.
“Jesus, what happened back there? Did Jake say something to you?”
She asks quietly, but clearly frustrated about my stupid decisions. I glance over my shoulder toward the hallway leading back to the salon. Empty. My pulse refuses to slow.
“He’s here,” I say under my breath.
“Who? What are you talking about Mali?”
She asks, her frustration replaced with confusion.
I shake my head. And for a second I consider telling her the truth. About the man in the morgue. About the messages. Aboutthe feeling that someone has been watching me. The Arbiter. But even in my own head it sounds insane. So instead I just shrug my shoulders. Giving her a reassuring smile.
“Nothing.”
“You will have a lot of explaining to do later. But first. We are finally dancing. I won’t let Jake interrupt us again,” she says, taking my hand abruptly.
