12. Scarlet
Chapter 12
Scarlet
The exclusivity of this event is what draws so much attention, and I’m not surprised to see the lined-up photographers as we pull up to the Everette hotel. For four brothers who like to stay out of the spotlight, they sure put on a good party.
I lower my mask, blocking my face from view before Oliver opens my door. The black town car is one of many lined up to drop off partygoers. The immaculate designs and attire are all a cover for the darkness that lies beneath. The Order Of Saints isn’t exactly bad, but power always stirs resentment, and over the years, I’ve learned that living this life comes at a cost.
There’s a tentlike structure that reaches all the way to the car, made of a bloodred velvet-like fabric that makes it near impossible for the paparazzi to get a clear shot. The entire thing is designed to keep others out, to maintain the secrecy of the Order while simultaneously rubbing it in people’s faces.
I’ve spent my entire life coming to these events, and the starry-eyed response I had as a kid wore off a long time ago. It was at one of these events that I met the man my father sold me off to. It was a sham of an arranged marriage. One where my father was more than happy to sell his teenage daughter to get the funds he wanted.
This time, it’s different though. My heart kicks up as I make my way through the fabric tunnel lit by wide globes on either side.
The hall itself is decorated beautifully, as always. The theme is a midnight tryst. Whoever designed it used the opportunity to create divisions in the space, with low-hanging drapery giving it an enclosed, private feeling. Mixed with the masks, it’s as if, even in a crowd of people, no one will be looking. Which is a thousand percent untrue.
Nothing happens here without everyone knowing.
I make my way through the throng of people, careful not to be pulled into a conversation. I’m barely tolerated at events like this. I’m not naive enough to think these men believe I deserve to remain here. Not after what my family did.
I let my gaze skim the crowd, not even bothering to lie to myself about who I’m looking for.
I still haven’t decided if that’s to seek Matthias out or hide from him. He left me completely confused and more than a little overwhelmed after our last meeting.
The fact that he bought the company I work for both impresses me and pisses me off.
He wants more access to me, but I can’t for the life of me sort out why. Why now?
Taking a sip of champagne a server generously brought me, I slowly circle the room. I’ve been doing this for ages, slowly watching everyone, learning their secrets while keeping my own.
Secrets are power, after all, and I’ve used them to maintain my position more than once. Not that I truly care about being a member of the Order. Women don’t participate anyway, but there’s always been something I can’t quite place tying me to this world.
“Fancy seeing you here.” A voice comes from directly beside me, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Bash!” I stumble back, and he catches me easily with one arm, then lets me go.
He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my gloved knuckles. “You look ravishing, Miss Laurent.”
“You look all grown up.” I smirk, because he does. Gone is the little boy stuck in the room with his brother. He’s dashing in his black-on-black tux, standing at least half a foot taller than me. He’s not wearing his mask, leaving the devious gleam in his eyes on full display.
“Does that mean you’ll hide away with me tonight?”
He’s got this whole roguish charm going for him, and I’m starting to feel bad for all the hearts he’s broken.
Damon approaches and shakes his head. “You know I can’t stop him.”
At first, I think it’s directed at me, but Bash yanks his hand away and gives a cheeky grin.
“Right. I don’t want to die tonight.”
“Why do people keep saying that?” It’s not like I’d kill him for touching my hand.
He grins. “Because it’s likely, and I want to live. I’m too pretty to die this young.”
I huff out a laugh. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I though? I better go before I get into any more trouble.” He bows low and looks at Damon. “Save me?”
The eldest Everette raises a brow but turns to me. “I have to get back to my wife. If you find time, come say hi. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
There’s so much love in his eyes it makes me go all gooey. “Of course. I’d love to.”
He grips Bash around the back of his neck and drags him through the crowd while whispering to his now very pale younger brother.
Alone again, I slowly weave my way around the dance floor, where couples move in choreographed dances that could be found in the nineteenth century. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the tail of a brilliant pink dress. Misty’s grinning up at Damon as they move together as one, standing out in the crowded room.
“May I have this dance?” the younger Volkov asks, bowing low in front of me. His silver mask reflects his red hair. He wears it longer and ties it low in the back. I don’t really want to dance, preferring to stay on the periphery. Unable to fight the polite etiquette that was ingrained into me from a young age, I let him take my hand.
“Congratulations on your ascension.” I step in with the other dancers. This one requires intricate steps and changing of partners.
He’s cut off from answering until we’re brought together again. “Thank you. My father is quite happy.”
I tilt my head at his answer. Not quite what one would expect from someone who just took one of the most prestigious roles in the world. I examine him a little harder, but there’s nothing in how he holds himself that seems anything but excited to be here.
The steps continue, and I’m once again switched to another partner, but instead of the older, portly gentleman I expect, a gold mask is looking down at me.
Only years of practice prevent me from missing a step when his hand meets mine. The moment of contact sends an electric current shooting up my arm, and I pull away, only to have him catch my fingers. Matthias’s deep brown eyes take in mine as we move together through the steps. His scent fills my nose, a nostalgia coming with it as I breathe him in.
Matthias slides his hand up my waist, a move that’s not a part of the dance, and heat floods to my core. The room feels small around us as his touch burns me through my dress. I swallow hard as unwanted memories of our kiss come thrashing in, causing my breath to hitch in my throat.
He hasn’t said a word, and yet he still has all of my attention.
A slow smile curves his lips when he lets me go, switching to his next partner. Mr. Volkov saves me from embarrassment, an easy hand guiding me back into formation.
He lowers his head so only I can hear. “You okay?”
My pulse wooshes in my ears as I try to gain control of my body, pissed that just the slightest touch from Matthias has my body out of control.
The song comes to an end, and I give a meek smile. “I’m fine. Just thirsty.”
“Let me get you a drink.”
“I’m alright on my own. Besides, I think the girls will throw a mutiny if I keep you much longer.”
He looks around and smiles as if just noticing the countless eyes on him. I can’t tell if he’s oblivious or skilled at this entire thing. Whatever he is, by the way the girls around us blush, it’s working.
“Are you sure?” he asks out of obligation.
“Yes.” I laugh at the way he visibly relaxes. He’s nineteen max and clearly enjoying his new notoriety. “Go have fun.”
After ten minutes of people-watching, familiar white hair catches my attention. I’m not positive it’s Liam’s friend until I spot the tattoo on his wrist when he lifts his hand to take a sip of his drink.
I haven’t seen Liam in the last few days, not that I’m surprised after Matthias spoke with him. No matter what was said, I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant for my ex-fiancé.
Trip and the other man are whispering to each other, and suspicion seeps into the back of my mind. There are any number of things they can be talking about, but there’s something that feels off about the entire thing. I inch my way closer, trying to make out what they’re saying.
My ears prickle when I catch a few words before they fade.
“You know the Laurent…”
“Are you sure…”
“It’s the only way.”
Their back-and-forth conversation has the hair on my neck standing up. Every instinct in my body goes into full alarm. These men aren’t here for just the party.
As if sensing my eyes on them, they both glance around the room before one nods to the other, and they both head toward one of the halls.
My fingers tap on my hip, mildly comforted by the hard steel under the fabric.
If they are talking about me, nothing good will come from following them. I gnaw my lip, running the outcomes through my mind. If they catch me, I can just pretend I’m lost, heading to the restroom, but depending on the severity of their secret, they may not just let me go.
Counterpoint: if they are talking about me, it’s in my best interest to know exactly what they’re planning.
Making sure my mask is firmly in place, I trail several feet behind them.
Their strides are twice as long as mine, confined in my tight dress and four-inch heels, and I try not to run to keep up with them in the ballroom.
I can only make out a word or two per sentence. Each one makes me all the more wary.
Call me paranoid, but I know firsthand what happens when men are left to plot for their personal gain.
The hall is dim, lit only by ambient lighting, and the walls are draped in the same velvet to keep the feel of the event, providing me with the perfect cover. I slip off my shoes, knowing that the clicking sound would instantly give me away and try to recover the ground between us.
If I can just get a little closer, I can figure out what they’re planning.
This time, I might even be able to stop whatever they’re planning.
My heart rate spikes when one of the men stops, turning toward me. I stumble backward, knowing I’m totally screwed if he spots me.
Milliseconds before that can happen, a hand clamps over my mouth, and a solid body pushes me into an alcove covered by velvet fabric.
My breath catches in my throat as I push against my assailant, only to be pulled closer, a familiar scent wrapping around me.
“What do you think you’re doing, Little Sparrow?”
A shiver runs through me as his lips brush against the shell of my ear.
Too close. He’s too close.
He lifts his hand from my mouth, lowering it until the base of my neck is cradled between his thumb and fingers.
“None of your business.” I push against him, hands on hard muscles, his heat soaking through the fabric into my body.
He chuckles low in his throat as he runs his nose along the curve of my neck. “Everything about you is my business.”
I huff out a laugh, doing my best to stay quiet in case the two men are still close by. “Since when? Seriously, I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
Matthias pulls back, a hint of light catching his eyes, watching me. I feel myself grow wet when he presses closer, and the hard ridge of his cock indents my stomach. “Does that feel like I can’t stand you?”
“I don’t understand you.” Mortification seeps in at the slight tremor in my voice.
“You will.” He opens his mouth, his tongue hot on my skin as he makes his way up my jaw.
My head tilts involuntarily to the side. The heat of him has stolen my ability to think, and the man knows it.
He grasps my chin, angling my face the way he wants it before capturing my mouth. The feelings he stoked within me the other day come to life as if they never went out. He burns beneath my skin as his hands travel down my sides and slowly lift the hem of my skirt until he can grasp my bare ass.
He hooks the lace fabric of my thong and tugs on it, a low growl reverberating in his chest.
“We can’t do this,” I breathe, leaving it up to him to stop.
His fingers press against my entrance. “Tell me to stop.”
I try to push the words out but can’t.
Matthias chuckles as he sinks two fingers into me, and I curl against him, burying my moan into his chest.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, but your body is so honest.”
He grinds his cock into my clit while stroking his fingers deep, stealing my last coherent thought.
Matthias drops his face to my shoulder, his hot breath panting against my neck as he takes me higher.
I whimper as my orgasm grows closer, and he nips my earlobe. “I love the sounds you make.”
He presses harder against me, his movements faster, less contained, and my release starts to break around me.
“Yes. Yes,” I cry out as pleasure ricochets through me. “Matthias.”
He groans low in his throat and bites the side of my neck, his body shuddering in my arms.
My knees are weak; the only thing holding me up is his body pressing me into the wall.
He drops his forehead to mine, our breaths mixing together, and smirks. “I haven’t come in my pants since high school.”
Shock rocks through me. “You what?”
His smirk turns into a smile. “You haven’t said my name in over a decade. I couldn’t help it.” He nuzzles his nose against mine. “Say it again.”
Suddenly, it’s as if I’m standing at a precipice and he’s asking for so much more than his words. I pull back and search his gaze, looking for the joke.
“Why are you doing this?” My heart aches. I feel like I’ve left myself wide open.
He leans in and places a kiss to my forehead before creating space between us. “Just say it one more time.”
Frustrated, I push him even further, and his eyes widen at the force. Must be surprised that a scrawny girl like me has that much strength. If he keeps picking on me, he’s going to see so much more of what I can do.
“Let. Me. Go.”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and his eyes darken on mine, holding my gaze for several seconds before he steps to the side. “Of course.”
I blink back tears as I rush through the gala, not caring if anyone sees me. I have to get out of here before the full force of what I just did hits me. I’m such an idiot.
Oliver’s already standing with the car door open when I come out of the building, and I climb in, closing the door behind me.
I curl into a ball, holding myself together. It’s only then that I realize I’ve lost a shoe.
A laugh floats from me at the ridiculousness of it all.
This isn’t a fairy tale, and I’m not a helpless girl who needs saving.
Maybe it’s time I show him that.