Page 125 of His Prince
My phone starts to vibrate continuously, and I glance down at it, information flooding in from Diablo. No one notices, though. Everyone is too buzzed from the drinks. Except Casey. He’s just as quiet as me, his eyes meeting mine, his brows scrunching in concern.
He gets how bad this could become.
Dessert is brought out, and I force myself to take a few bites, feeling nauseous the longer the information sits on my phone unanalyzed. I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin. I want to go over it with a fine-tooth comb and present it to Mikhail in an easy-to-understand format.
There has to be more to it than just numbers.
Please, God, let Diablo have found some pictures. Anything to show that Daniil is in cahoots with Katarina. Or at least was. And that there’s a reason for him to be stealing from Mikhail, some kind of twisted revenge plot?
I don’t know. I need something to show Mikhail that I have his best interests at heart. That this isn’t something we’ve all made up.
“What’s got you so preoccupied?” Mikhail asks, catching me staring down at my phone.
I meet his gaze and arch an eyebrow. “Evidence.”
He blinks slowly. “Are you sure?”
“I am. Do you trust me?”
He swallows, his hand slipping under the table and touching my leg.
“I’m trying to.”
Something moves across his face—yearning, desire—and I reach out and gently touch his face.
“Trust me.”
He nods, the spell broken by Daniil lifting his glass. “Let us toastto us being together once again! You, Mikhail, are like a brother to me. I look forward to many more years of us together.”
It all rings fake, and Mikhail’s hand tightens on my leg. I want Daniil to choke on his own tongue as I watch him toss that liquid back. Maybe I should send him to my father, let him have a go. Make him shut up forever by taking his tongue right out of his lying mouth.
“Come now, will you not toast to a long friendship?” Daniil asks as he meets my stare, my fingers tapping against the mostly full glass of alcohol.
“I’d rather have my wits about me,” I reply with a smile on my face.
His eyes narrow slightly, and Mikhail turns and leans toward me. “You are smart, little Angel. No one should underestimate you.”
“They definitely shouldn’t,” I say and then force another smile, setting my napkin on the table. “Actually, I need to use the restroom.”
My hand skims Mikhail’s arm, and he reaches out slightly, our fingers brushing under the table.
I’ve got this. I’ve got you.
Without another word, I walk from the small backroom, Casey following me. As soon as we’re alone, he reaches out and touches me gently.
“I don’t like that man. He is a fucking wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
“I know,” I reply. Pulling out my phone, I pull up the information that Diablo sent over. I scroll through it quickly and then I stop and hold my phone up to Casey.
“I knew it,” I say, and there in the picture are Daniil and Katarina—naked, in bed. “He’s already mostly convinced, but this will solidify it. It has to.”
Just as I utter those words, Casey pulls me into him, and I turn to see Daniil, his body crowding mine.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice dark and suspicious, his Russian accent deepening.
“I was just checking my phone,” I reply, making sure to keep my voice even. “My brother messaged.”
He leans a little closer to us, and Casey nearly growls in annoyance, his gun now in his hand. “Back up. I don’t give a fuck who you are. Take another step, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes.”