Page 4 of Shattered Saint
"Leave as soon as I get the chance. I might need you to cover for me if Mom or Dad asks you anything."
That was easy enough. "That's worth a bit more than you just keeping quiet about me drinking. You're going to owe me for that."
"Fine."
I was surprised. He'd agreed more quickly than I was expecting, making me suspicious. "Where are you going?"
"You don't need to know that."
"So, you're going to see Raven. Got it."
Nash's silence told me all I needed to know. I wasn't surprised he was going to see his girlfriend of two years this evening, and I didn't blame him one bit. Especially after all this.
I watched my brother as I took another sip of my wine, making sure to stare him down as I did so. When I was done drinking, I flipped my blonde hair over my shoulder and my eyes migrated to the entrance of the ballroom as a way to manifest my ability to exit.
The next thing I saw washim.
2
BIANCA
"Look who's here," my father announced to my brother and me.
My eyes widened as I turned to him, partially surprised that he had snuck up on me also.Who was he talking about? I followed the direction of his gaze and saw it was trained onthe dude I’d been watching.
If I had to guess, the guy who’d drawn both my attention and my father’s had to be around my age or slightly older. Two people, a man and a woman, were standing next to him. The resemblance was strong enough between the cute guy and the older man that I assumed they were his parents. Since my father was jazzed about their arrival, this family more than likely had wealth or power. For some reason, I was leaning toward both.
Normally, I wouldn’t be the slightest bit interested in anything related to people my father associated with, but my gaze remained fixated on the younger guy.
His dark brown hair was slightly curly and grazed the collar of his shirt. Maybe it was just my imagination, but it looked as if he'd been running his fingers through it just before he stepped into my house. It gave him a slightly rebellious edge even though he was in a black suit and tie.His shoulders and broad chest filled out the suit perfectly, as if it was custom made for him, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was.
I couldn't tell the exact shade of his eyes from where I was standing, but they looked to be on the lighter end, potentially blue or green. I watched as his eyes scanned the room until his gaze landed on me. It could have been my anxiety talking, but staring at him was intimidating, yet I couldn't look away. His stare was intoxicating, making it difficult to look elsewhere.
Based on how he presented himself, I could tell that his confidence was through the roof, and if I looked like him, I suspected mine would be too. His chiseled jaw was something you would expect to see on a famous actor in a blockbuster movie. When my gaze landed on his lips, they turned into a half-smile, as if he was able to read my mind.
Everything about this guy screamed fuckboy, but that didn't deter me one bit.
When the woman, who I assumed was his mother, leaned over to talk to him, he broke the stare down we were having, and the pressure that I'd felt under his gaze lifted. It was as if I could breathe freely again even with me still being held under the constraints of having to be at this event.
I slowly put my drink down on a high table to my left and as I stood straight up again,my father put his hand on my back and pushed me forward. I glared at him, but of course he didn't notice because all his attention was drawn to the people who had just walked into our home.
"Oliver Beaumont! It's so great of you and your family to join us," my father said as he walked over to new arrivals. My mother and Nash followed behind him as I tried not to show what I was really feeling.
Having been raised by the man, it was obvious to me when he'd put on his politicalvoice. The smooth, authoritativetone that he had been practicing and perfecting for as long as I could remember was easy to spot. The two men shook hands as the rest of us stood back, awkwardly waiting for our introductions.
Following his lead, I forced my shoulders back and gave an award-winning smile. It was fake as hell, but my parents couldn't say I didn't put in any effort. The guy who'd caught my attention the moment he'd walked into the room was watching me, seeming somewhat amused by my acting job.
"Thank you for inviting us. You have a beautiful home," Mr. Beaumont said.
Our fathers shook hands and then my father turned to give the rest of us room to be introduced. From where I was standing, it looked as if both men gave each other a firm handshake, making sure not to show any signs of weakness or intimidation.
Dad gestured to each one of us as he said, "This is my wife, Elizabeth, and my children, Nash and Bianca." He then turned back to the Beaumont family and said, "This is Oliver, Amelia, and Easton."
Easton. His name was Easton. I didn't know what I was expecting it to be, but it wasn't that.
"It's nice to meet you," my mother's voice cut through the chatter in my brain, and she followed my dad's lead by shaking each member of the Beaumont family's hand.
Nash and I followed suit, and the last people to shake hands were Easton and me.
