Page 56 of Where Angels Fall

Zeke is still speaking with my father and Malcolm, his tone easy, professional, every word measured.

I lift my gaze.

And that’s when I see him.

Ash stands across the room, deep in conversation with a man I don’t recognise, both of them dressed in tailored suits instead of leather, polished and powerful in a way that feels lethal. He looks wrong like this.

And somehow, even more deadly.

His eyes meet mine. And then flick across to the man beside me, whose arm drops just an inch lower down my hips.

My heart beats a steady rhythm in my chest, nerves and excitement bubbling inside me.

What is he doing here? How did he even get in?

The reminder that I lied to him during our short text exchange this morning also makes me feel dread, knowing he’ll punish me for that later. The kind of dread that flutters between my legs.

He raises his glass in a silent cheers, before going back to his conversation, not sparing me another glance. I haven’t heard from him in almost a week, and he shows up here? The idea of my father seeing me with him makes me nauseas, yet my eyes can’t seem to stop drifting in the gang leader's direction.

“And aren’t you lucky, having the in-demand Maddison Dally on your arm,” Malcolm croons, his beady eyes flicking between the both of us.

I try to take a step away from my date, but he grips me tighter, holding me against his warmth. Malcolm’s wife doesn’t bat an eye at his behaviour; her fake smile pinned in place. It’s damn eerie.

“Very lucky,” Zeke purrs, turning his head closer to mine.

At that moment, Ash’s stormy eyes flick back to us, darkening at the sight.

My breathing picks up, sensing the danger from all the way over here. Fear that he will cause a scene in front of my father and during this event has me trying to step away again, but Zeke doesn’t let me budge, chuckling softly.

When I look up at him, confused, he’s watching me with faint amusement, like this is all unfolding exactly as he expected.

“Excuse us,” my father says suddenly, clapping a hand on Zeke’s shoulder. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Zeke’s grip loosens, just enough. He glances down at me once, eyes calculating. “Don’t wander far,” he murmurs, as if it’s a joke.

Following my father, he leaves me with Malcolm’s leering gaze, unashamed in the way his eyes slide up and down my body.

“I heard the total of donations has exceeded thirty million,” Malcolm grins. “Bet I look really damn good right now.”

The strength to muster up a professional smile nearly kills me, but hearing the updated amount of donations makes me feel giddy. I feel like a puppet master, picking people’s pockets for the best cause. Using people’s own vanity to get them to reach into their heavily padded pockets.

“I’m sure you do,” I reply, my sky-blue nails that match my gown dig into my palms. “Now to keep up the good press.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, arrogance and stupidity oozing out of his pores. “If I slip up again, I’ll just get you to throw another one of these fancy events.” His laugh makes my skin crawl.

His wife laughs softly, even if the joke is regarding her husband’s slip-up of screwing another, much younger, woman. Watching her let him treat her like this is too much. Reminds me too much of me with...my father.

I excuse myself quickly, running to the restrooms, feeling the eyes of another man on my back.

My hands brace on the cool counter and stare at my reflection.

Who am I playing tonight?

The woman in the mirror looks like she belongs here, at this prestigious event. But my eyes give me away. Too bright. Too alert. Something I never thought I’d see looking back at me. They don’t match the look I’m used to portraying.

I press my palms flat against the stone, breathing until the tightness in my chest eases.

Get it together, I beg myself.