Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
Lily
Song: Unsteady - X Ambassadors
The room is buzzing, full of people admiring Claude’s work. He’s center stage, soaking up attention. I’m just glad his best piece is displayed on the right wall. I swirl my champagne and study the delicate silver lines.
My feet already ache. But I’m proud of this exhibition. It is one of my best.
“Lily!” Hallie squeals behind me before her arms wrap around me. “This is incredible.”
“Thank you.” I smile.
She runs a hand through her caramel hair. “Sorry, I had to get ready in super speed.”
“Mom life.” I wink.
I’ve never seen her happier than she is with Conan and their little boy. Speaking of, Conan appears behind her, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room like a predator.
“What’s up his ass?” I murmur.
“They’re all really jumpy right now. They’re after some cult. I don’t ask too much. I trust him.”
I nod, my pulse kicking up. Any talk of that life brings back memories. Warnings from my father that I’ll never forget: to trust my gut, if someone seems evil, they usually are.
“We’ve got some of their men here on security. We’re safe.”
The twins, Reggie and Rowan, are acting as bouncers at the door. Brick walls disguised as men. No one is getting past them.
The door swings again, and Bella beams as she approaches. She’s one of the best additions to my life.
“Lily, this is fucking cool.” Bella grabs two champagne glasses, downing one and keeping the other.
I finish off the rest of mine and set it down on the tall wooden table to my left.
“I wanna buy one. I’ll see which of my men wanna treat me tonight.” She giggles.
“Lucky bitch.”
She’s a British mafia princess who is ’married’ to both of the twins, and the two men are obsessed with her. Must be nice.
“You’ll find someone,” Hallie whispers, squeezing my shoulder.
“I don’t need to. I’m good,” I tell her, my smile tight.
Am I fine? Kind of. Do I trust men? Absolutely not.
“Lily, can I borrow you?” Roxy asks, probably about something gallery-related.
I nod and follow her aside.
“Oh my god, I love that necklace.”
Instinctively, I grip it. It grounds me. “Thanks. My dad gave it to me.”
She pouts. “So you don’t know where he got it?”
I shake my head. “No. Sorry.”
“Can you ask?”
I freeze. “No.”
Conversation over. I speak to my father as little as possible. He let me go when I begged him to let me stay. And what happened? Exactly what I feared. I wasn’t safe here, not really.
My skin crawls. The tightness wraps around my throat. Harder. Harder.
Breathe, Lily. You aren’t dying.
My vision blurs. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. So I run. I push past bodies, ignoring shocked faces, until I reach my office.
I lock the door and feel my lungs burn.
My hands grip the desk as tears spill.
“Shit.” I fumble for my purse, find my custom aftershave, close my eyes, and spray. I inhale deeply.
Slowly, the nightmare eases. My body stops shaking. My mind crawls back into safety.
I sip water from my bottle on my desk.
“You’ve got this. He can’t hurt you anymore,” I whisper.
Mentioning my parents always breaks something inside me.
I pull out my phone and stare at the text my father sent earlier.
DAD: Good luck tonight, solnyshko. Love you. Dad.
My finger hovers over the call button. No. He made it clear that his life is in Russia. His work matters more than I ever did.
Inside, I’m still that scared little girl aching for someone to hold me and promise me I’ll be okay.
All I have is the memory of strong arms that held me when I was at my weakest. With a steadying breath, I wipe my tears, reapply lip gloss, and fix my mask.
Then I step back into the crowd.
“Lily! Come here! It’s photo time!” Claude calls.
I force a smile and join him. His arm wraps around my waist, and my body jolts before I relax. I don’t like people outside of my circle touching me. I don’t let my guard down now.
Cameras flash. Too many.
“That’s enough of us. We’re here for the art.” I joke.
As I turn, I see a man leaning against a pillar. Square jaw. Dark eyes. Tailored suit. Tattoos creeping from his collar.
He doesn’t belong here, and I need him to stop staring at me and making me more on edge.
My heels click as I approach. He doesn’t flinch.
“Hey, I’m Lily.” I offer my hand.
He takes it, gaze cold. “Alek.”
The Russian accent makes me yank my hand back. My brain always assumes there’s a Russian guy after my dad. Although it might not be the case, it probably isn’t an illogical jump. But it’s a fear drilled into me from being a kid.
“You’re here to buy art?” I ask, stepping back.
“Yes. That’s usually what a rich man comes to a gallery for, Lily.” He says coolly, sliding his hand into his pocket.
His eyes graze down my body as he bites his lip, making me cross my arms over my stomach. Then his gaze settles on my necklace.
“Is that for sale?” He asks, nodding at it.
My hand grabs the necklace around my throat. “No. It’s not.” I say firmly.
He smiles, showing his gold tooth. “I thought only one of these was in existence, yet here you are with the second. Name your price.”
All the blood drains from my face at the way he says it, the harshness to his tone.
“There is no price. It is not for sale.” I try to keep my voice light and even smile.
He scares me. And he needs to leave.
“What’s your last name, Lily?” He asks.
I step back, creating more distance.
“Smith,” I lie.
He scoffs, his dark eyes burning into mine.
“All good here?” Conan’s Irish voice hits from behind me.
Relief floods my chest.
“All good. Just an investor,” Alek says.
Conan could break him in half. And Alek knows it.
“I’ll take that one.” Alek points behind me.
“That’s two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” I tell him bluntly, without even looking at the piece he’s pointing at.
He shrugs. “You take cash?”
I laugh. “No. I don’t.”
He smirks. “I’m joking. Let me make some calls. My penthouse needs that.”
His eyes flick to my necklace before he turns and walks away.
Conan watches him like prey. “You seem jumpy, Lily.”
“Russian accents make me like that. Family history.” I rush the words out.
Even without thinking, I try to protect my father. I don’t know who his allies are or how the Quinns fit into the role he plays in Russia.
“You knew him?” Conan asks, and then turns his head to make sure the creep is leaving.
“No. I didn’t.”
“I’ll check with the twins. I’m sure it’s fine. Claude probably has an extensive guest list.”
“Yeah…” I lick my lips. The room feels tighter. Smaller. “Maybe I just made a shit ton of cash though,” I joke.
Conan cracks a smile. “That’s the spirit, Lily.”