Page 125 of Iris' Lying Eyes
His nostrils flare, and he grabs my wrist before pushing me against the wall. “Are you done?”
“No,” I spit, and he picks me up.
His warm arms feel so fucking good against my perpetually cold skin that I give into my weakness and sag in his arms.
His sigh parts my hair and I drop my head until he pushes between my legs. He’s so fucking strong he doesn’t need my help, but I wrap my legs around his waist anyway.
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. You’re mine. Stay away from that fucker. Stay away from them all,” he rasps, grasping the back of my head.
“Fuck you. I’m nothing but a tool to you. What’s next, B? You gonna fuck me for more information?”
He bucks between my thighs, and I tilt my head back before shoving my hand against his chest. I’m not fucking him ever again.
With a smirk, he presses his thumb against the speeding pulse in my neck and growls, “You’re fucking wet, aren’t you?”
“No, B,” I sneer. “I’m cold. Do your worst, but I’ll never be a slave to a dick like you again.”
His eyes widen before they drop to ice and he sets me on my feet, stepping back. “Is that right?”
Although my heart aches at the distance between us, I push away the pain and remind myself of his treachery. “Yes.”
“Then I guess that’s my answer.”
I’m given no time to respond before he’s out the door, but my soul shrivels a little at how easy it was to push him away. Even though I know whatever he’s after will only ever be about something other than me.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It’s game face time. Diem arranged a meeting with McCafferty, but of course, the wily old bastard made sure it was during a fucking party. At least he paid for the dress. It’s a floor-length emerald-green gown that accentuates my height with a sweet backless feature to enhance my slim build and creamy skin.
Per Diem, Paddy McCafferty hosts a gala every year. This is to bring the remaining family together and celebrate the ties that still exist between them. From where I’m standing, it sounds perfectly horrible, but backstabbing and mafia takeovers will do that, I suppose.
I haven’t heard from Bastion in weeks, and I don’t expect to. It doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten his schemes, but the fierce burn of hatred has faded to an ache that follows me wherever I go.
I know I created this game, just as I know whatever B did was in reaction to my own mistakes. I just wish, in the end, this had truly been about me. I’ve never really had a man stand up for the right reasons. I guess that’s why I allowed myself to be suckered.
Pushing the thought aside, I gaze around the room. The home is massive, surrounded by beautiful old trees and a grand fountain in the drive, and if I hadn’t been in B’s home, I’d probably be gawking like a gauche girl.
The ballroom glitters with thousands of candles lit around the room, not to mention the massive chandeliers that blaze overhead. There are hundreds of people here, and I feel the burning gaze of curious eyes as I weave further away, positioning myself so I can observe the party-goers unobstructed.
I’m pleased to see Serena Salvatore conversing with an older couple, their expressions stern as they look her over with cool eyes. I can’t see her husband, but I do spot Diem across the way, smirking at a buxom blonde who looks up at him like rainbows shine out of his ass.
“Hey.” With a silent sigh, I turn to Alice and Jig standing before me. Jig looks handsome in a black tux with a crisp white shirt, his infectious grin in place and I’ll admit it to no one, but I’m glad to see the sparkle is back in his eyes.
Alice smiles at me, smoothing her hand down a pretty blue dress that matches her eyes perfectly.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask. Although I guess that’s a stupid question. Jig is the old man’s godson.
Thank fuck that’s an honorary title. I’d hate to be truly related. Shudder.
Jig just raises a brow and I turn away. I sense that they’ve talked through their issues because the tension is long gone from Alice’s expression but that doesn’t mean we’re friends. Besides, I’m still torqued that she didn’t fulfill her end of the bargain, even if it was an impossible request.
“Listen,” Alice says, touching my arm but I pull away, hiding my frown.
I’m not interested in platitudes and hopefully they’ll get the message which is why I glance around idly as I try to remind them to mind their own fucking business.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, prepares me for the next event, and I suck in a painful breath, swaying on my feet as Bastion emerges with some old fucking chick on his arm.
“Oh shit,” Jig says but I step away.