Page 44 of Bound Bride
What the hell does that mean?
I thought Mathew was lying when he said Beatie was sick, but the speed at which he left while dragging my father with him makes my blood run cold.
Maybe he was telling the truth and there's something wrong with my sister? Or my mother?
Not knowing drives me crazy and despite my best efforts, I'm distracted for the rest of the evening. Kon doesn't notice, or if he does then he doesn't comment on it.
He stays by my side while I wander the party in a worried daze until things start to wind down.
The harpist leaves, mingling guests who were invited to help make the party feel more real start to leave, and the lively music switches to low and slow as everything wraps up.
I leave Kon's side and spend twenty minutes in one of the studies with the girls hired to attend to the generals.
Despite all their best efforts, none of them has anything incriminating to tell me about their conversations, so I ensure they're handsomely paid and then it's up to Ethan to ensure they get home okay.
I return to the party with Calvin at my side, but he seems to understand my upset without even asking about it, and he hangs back as I return to the bar.
"Whiskey please," I say to the bartender. Not my usual drink, but I'm too impatient to wait for a cocktail. I need something instant to break apart the tension building in my chest.
Family emergency.
Would Mathew be that panicked if it was Beatie or Mom? Maybe. After all, without them, he loses control over me and then his entire plan falls apart.
My stomach twists into tight knots and I close my eyes as a wave of nausea creeps up the back of my throat.
If something's happened to them… who do I even blame?
Dad, for getting us into this hellish mess in the first place?
The Vasiliev brothers for their cruel, twisted games?
Or myself for not being better at this whole thing?
None of those answers feels right.
My drink is delivered, and the bartender steps away, granting me a small bubble of privacy. I grab my glass and take a largegulp, barely able to contain my cough as fire ignites down my throat and settles deep in my stomach.
"That's far too hard a drink for a little thing like you," comes an unfamiliar voice tripping over their words. A gust of alcohol-tinged breath collides with my face as I turn and come face to face with one of Kon's generals. His name escapes me for a moment and I stare into his pudgy face.
"You think so?" Despite everything, I have to maintain politeness with these generals. They're Kon's inner circle, with immense power and responsibility.
These are the people who keep the businesses running smoothly, who handle all the small discrepancies, hiring staff, protecting territories and ensuring all the money flows in the right direction.
"I know so," the general says, leaning heavily on the counter and chuckling. "You know what you should drink instead?"
He speaks as if he's got cotton stuffed into his cheeks and his tongue is trying to say something completely different. His heavy-lidded eyes sag slightly as he leans into.
"I'm sure you're about to tell me."
Suddenly, his heavy, hot hand lands on my thigh and squeezes as he sags against me with a lopsided grin. "Mycock."
"Excuse me?!"
"Don't act so fuckin' shocked," he slurs. "I've seen you flaunin' yourself all over the damn party, tryna catch my eye and let me tell you, you're too much woman for Konstanin. Too much woman. Trust me." He hiccups abruptly and leans into me so heavily that the silver heron pin on his lapel digs into myshoulder. "Please me now and when he tosses you away in the dirt, I'll sweep you away to a good li?—"
"General Zangier." Calvin's sharp, deep voice cuts through the threat and barely contained anger threads through his words. "You've had too much to drink." Calvin's hand darts between us and grabs Zangier's wrist, then pries his hand off my thigh. "If you wish to see the sunrise, I very strongly suggest that you step away right now."
"What the fuck?" The surprise on Zangier's face is second only to the dark fury on Calvin's and before the general can say anything else, Calvin practically drags him off the barstool and drags him away without another word.
