Page 55 of Iris' Lying Eyes
Soon the room is filled with men, many of whom brought their arm candy. I don’t see Serena among them and assume, based on how I yet again don’t fit in, that this party is for the whores, not the wives.
And here I am dressed like a pink fucking fairy. Oh well.
Roman sidles up next to me while I sip on another drink. I know I need to slow down because sobriety is the name of the game if I want to escape without getting caught, but the alcohol is the only thing keeping me going.
Besides, I’m bored.
Although the women cast me sidelong stares, I’m not approached, and Bastion hasn’t looked my way since everyone started piling in.
Why am I here?
“Pink isn’t your color,” Roman says with a cool smile.
Glancing down at the dress, I shrug. “Neither are dinner parties, yet here I am.”
He chuckles, and I smile sourly. “You’re only here until he gets what he wants. Remember that.”
“Which is what?”
Why does he want me here? I’m pretty sure these dicks aren’t going to take up gossiping like old biddies, thereby spreading the word of where I am.
Besides, B may not know it, but I’m sure Roman has already spilled the beans.
Roman tsks, and I stiffen, my fingers going numb around the glass.
“How’s your dad?” He asks.
“What’s that?” I drawl, biting the inside of my mouth.
“Your dad? How’s the old man now that he’s free?”
Avoiding his gaze, I sip my drink. “What are you talking about? My dad’s dead.”
“Is he?”
What the fuck is he saying? And what do I do about it? Nothing but get fucking gone before this blows up in my damn face.
When I don’t respond, he chuckles, brushing my arm. “You haven’t figured it out yet? What could Bastion possibly want from you?”
Dick. Thanks for rubbing it in.
With another sip, I say idly, “Information.”
He nods and scans the room, pausing on a woman with long blonde hair and fake tits.
“Be careful.”
“Of what?” I ask, meeting Bastion’s stare.
His brows drop over his eyes as he looks between us, and I resist the urge to squirm.
“I already plan to have a little fun with you, but if you tell him anything he doesn’t need to know, I’m going to cut off those titties and shove them down your throat.”
Speechless, I turn to him, but he just smiles. “My son doesn’t care about you, little Iris. But he does care about what happens up on the mountain. You’d do well to remember that what happens there, stays.”
Someone nods at him, and he walks away. Taking a deep breath, I pound the whiskey and head toward the door. Fuck this. I’ll go right now.
Of course, Bastion intercepts me, holding out his arm. Reluctantly, I press mine through his.