Page 6 of Dancing with Daggers

"Excuse me, are you Zia Volso?" a woman in a blue gown asked.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

"I just wanted to say hello. It's not every day a major family has a new member pop out of nowhere. I'm one of the people on the foundation's board. I wanted to bend your ear about an idea I had..." The woman took a breath, and Zia quickly interrupted.

"I'm not the person to ask, but Ares is over there. He told me today that if anyone wants to chat business, I should send them to him," she said and pointed to the figure in the shadows. "He's just there, and look, he's all alone. It's the perfect opportunity."

The woman touched the sapphire hanging about her necklace, a blush coloring her cheeks. "Ares? I... I've never actually talked to him."

"Don't let him intimidate you. He's a big pussycat, I swear. Just don't tickle his belly," Zia said with a wink.

The woman laughed nervously but headed towards Ares with determination. Zia grinned and left them to it, disappearing further through the collection to the paintings.

She was studying a painting she really liked of a haunted-looking mansion on a moor when a deep husky voice said behind her, "That was naughty of you, Lucrezia."

"I don't know what you mean, Ares. She seemed positively lovely," Zia replied. She was still trying to process him calling her naughty. Damn the man. Don't forget you're meant to be related.

"She wants something. That's the only reason they are all here."

"Everyone wants something, Ares. It's human nature," Zia replied. She wished she had a drink to hold, and then she remembered that she couldn't accept anything from anyone in case it was also poisoned.

"You like this one. I can tell," he said, moving closer to examine the painting. "Speaking of wanting things, I wonder what you want, Zia."

"I want to get to know you and the rest of the family. I’ve always wanted one," she replied. "How about you?"

Ares straightened. "I want to be head of the family, just like the rest of us."

Truth. She was disappointed, but not surprised. She doubted he would risk telling any of the vultures around him what he really wanted in life.

Zia wandered on to the next lot of paintings. She expected Ares to leave her alone, but he followed.

"Are you stalking me, cousin?" she teased.

Ares cocked a dark brow at her. "I'm making sure no one else corners you and you do something like promise them a donation."

"That's right. You look after the money. I promise I won't put any bids in for anything either," she said and crossed her heart.

"If something catches your eye, do let me know, but I draw a line at the leeches trying to suck funds out of you," he replied, and a flicker of an almost smile ghosted about his lips.

Zia wondered what a real smile would look like on his stern, handsome face. Because life was unfair, it would probably stop everyone's heart in a fifty-meter radius.

"I'll make sure it's something that matches the black and silver decor at home," she teased before she could check herself. Amusement flickered in his eyes before it disappeared just as quickly.

Zia forced herself to look back at the art on the walls. They had reached an abstract section of the donations. She paused in front of a canvas splattered with angry shades of red and black.

Her mind grabbed hold of the image, and suddenly she was cold, the smell of moldy carpet and blood and masculine sweat invading her senses. The feel of fangs ripping into her back. Scream and I'll kill you. Tell anyone and I'll make life hell for you, little bitch.

Zia forced the memories back. She was shaking and sweating under her clothes, her heart racing and eyes watering.

Ares's cool hand touched her arm. "Zia? Are you okay? You've turned ashen."

"I'm... I'm fine. Just had the alcohol hit me suddenly, and I'm having a dizzy spell." Zia pulled away from him, forcing a smile on her face. "I'm going to go home. Erik is having a party tonight. Maybe I'll see you there?"

Zia didn't wait for a reply but hurried away as fast as she could. She forced herself to take deep breaths, filling her senses with expensive perfume and elaborate flower arrangements. They banished the scent of old carpet from her nostrils, and she could think a little clearer. She found the doorman, who recognized her immediately.

"Let me get your car, Miss Volso," he said and sent a quick text.

"Thank you," she replied and hoped no one would talk to her. She needed to get behind a closed door and get her shit together. The black town car arrived minutes later, and she slipped into the dark interior.