Chapter Sixteen
Romy
R ed isn’t usually a color I gravitate toward, but even I can’t deny how good this dress looks on me. Gone is the haunted, terrified girl. In her place is a formidable woman playing twisted, intricate games with malicious men. I’m in battle mode.
As I pace the living room on four-inch sparkly heels, waiting for Caius to pick me up, I can’t help but think of my mother. She was always so cold and prickly. Dad too. The difference between them, though, was that Dad is always emotionless and stiff. Her aloofness seemed to only be aimed at her husband and children. I’d once walked in on a soft moment between Mom and one of Dad’s associates. She’d giggled as his hand roamed its way under her shirt. I’d seen her smile at him—wide and truly beautiful—in a way I’d never seen before.
I’d only been five or so at the time.
When her eyes landed on mine, the vicious mask fell into place. I can’t remember if I told Dad or if he found out on his own, but not too long after that, he filed for divorce.
I haven’t seen or spoken to her since that fateful day when I saw that genuine side of her that she greedily kept from us.
Thoughts of Mom’s absence make me think of what came next. The dark times. A part in my history where everything that was straight and made sense suddenly became horribly tangled. My reality shifted after the divorce, and it took a lot of therapy to bring life back into focus.
Before I can continue to travel along the path of memories I’ve spent years trying to put to rest, I notice headlights flashing through the trees. My heart rate quickens. It’s Caius, who’s come for me. It takes a few steadying breaths to get my nerves to calm down.
You can do this, Romy.
With my left hand gripping a silver, glittery clutch I found in the closet and my right arm balanced on my hip, I brace myself to see him. Seconds later, he comes striding into the house, distracted as he taps away on his phone with his thumb. He stalks past me, not bothering to look up. Since he’s wearing dark jeans and a black sweater, I assume he’s going to change so that we’re both dressed up. As I thought, he returns a few minutes later in a bespoke tuxedo. In his grip is the tag from the dress.
Our eyes meet—his dark and colder than the depths of the ocean abyss—and I stand my ground. I don’t cower under his chilling stare but rather arch a brow at him as if to indicate I’m done playing the victim.
His eyebrows slightly furl and then his gaze skims over my body, lingering first on my cleavage and then again on the racy slit in the material that shows my upper thigh.
Though his presence is still slightly terrifying, I know I have to force the fear deep down inside. All I have to do is pay attention. Everything is a clue. This is all a puzzle.
“That’ll do,” Caius says, tone dismissive.
Despite his callous words, I see the slight flare of his nostrils. He likes what he sees. However, even though I’m his “girlfriend,” he doesn’t want to like what he sees.
Good.
About time someone else feels uncomfortable around here.
Caius clears his throat and pockets the dress tag before checking his watch. “We need to get going. Guests are already arriving.”
Hope flickers in my chest. “Guests?”
“Investors dinner. Around fifty or so people will be there.” His eyes bore into mine. “Behave.”
I curl up my lip in disgust. Ignoring him, I start for the door past the mudroom. Before I reach it, a strong hand encircles my bicep, squeezing enough to stop me. It takes everything in me not to jerk my arm from his grip.
Letting my anger boil over isn’t going to move me ahead in this game.
Cool head.
Stay calm.
“Put this on,” Caius orders, handing me a long, black coat. “You only need it for the short walk to the car, but it’s below freezing out tonight.”
Even though I don’t want to, I accept the coat and allow him to help me put it on. The expensive cologne scent is familiar. Same one that was in his office, in his closet, in his bed.
Caius, Caius, Caius.
He’s everywhere, invading me inside and out.
“Won’t you be cold?” I ask, hoping very much that he will.
“Car is still on and the heater is blaring. I’ll be fine.”
As soon as I step outside, I’m grateful for the coat. Wind whistles under the carport, sending flakes of snow fluttering around us. Caius trots ahead and opens the passenger side door. I ponder how to get into the vehicle in these inappropriate heels a little too long because before I can stop him, his hands are on my waist, hoisting me up.
I quickly hop into the seat, eager to get his hands off me. He shuts the door and soon joins me. As much as I dread going back to the lunatic lodge, I have a feeling I’m about to gather some major intel to help me in my effort to find Megan. This is a necessary evil.
Caius is annoyingly quiet on our drive. My mind is racing with a million thoughts and questions, but I refuse to break the silence. We can pretend all he wants, but I’m still his prisoner, not his girlfriend.
Again, I’m getting swept up in my anger at the situation. I take a few calming breaths before assessing my nemesis to try to get a read on him.
He’s tense.
Typically, he’s a granite statue.
Tonight, he’s on edge. I can see it in the way his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel and how his teeth softly grind together.
Is it because of me?
Or is he nervous about the dinner tonight?
I try to imagine what puts a man like Caius Crowne on edge.
Only one thing comes to mind. Getting caught. That could mean one of the guests is a potential enemy of the Crowne family. Maybe it’s a military man or someone from the government. The idea that there’s someone Caius is unnerved to see elates me.
I’ll figure it out.
Cataloguing people, things, patterns, names—it’s naturally ingrained in me. I like it. It keeps my mind sharp and focused. Tonight, I’ll be on high alert.
Since it’s dark and only the headlights illuminate our path, I’m unable to see anything of interest. We soon drive into the bay that takes us to the massive garage. Once Caius parks in the place from last time, I wait for him to help me out of the vehicle.
“You won’t need this inside,” Caius says as he tugs off the coat I’m wearing. “It’s warm inside and there’s alcohol.”
I shiver in the cool garage now that my coat is gone. Thankfully, he’s in a hurry to get inside. I’m nearly having to run to keep up with his long strides.
The hallway inside is just as I remember—drab and boring. I follow Caius to the elevator.
“Since it’s an intimate affair,” Caius says when we’re inside, “it’ll be in Dad’s penthouse.”
Orion has the penthouse.
Caius confirms my original thoughts about the elevator keypad when he hits the “P” after a completely different series of finger swipes that he keeps me from fully seeing. As the elevator rises, I pull out my phone and text Theo.
Me: We’re here. I need to see a friendly face.
Caius doesn’t seem bothered that I’m on my phone, which makes me suspicious. They’d have to be stupid to give me access to the outside world. Since I don’t have any messages from my family, I’m beginning to think they either cloned my phone or they’ve reprogrammed the numbers in my contacts to dead numbers. Regardless, they’ve been messing around on my phone, and so far, I’m only able to contact one of the Crownes.
Theo: By the bar. Find me, babe.
Babe.
Again with that endearment.
I wonder if Caius would dislike that his brother calls me babe. A trickle of satisfaction makes its way through my veins.
The doors open to the penthouse, and we’re met with a barrage of sights, sounds, and smells. I’m nearly struck stupid at seeing people again. They’re all dressed like me and Caius, laughing and chattering amicably. I can smell garlicky scents of whatever foods they’ve prepared for tonight, which makes my stomach rumble.
Caius places a palm on the small of my back, guiding me past several groups of people. He nods to a couple of men, who shamelessly gawk at me.
Gareth appears out of nowhere, grinning widely. “Lookin’ good, Ro. Real good.”
Caius, clearly distracted, doesn’t notice the compliment or doesn’t care. Gareth steps closer, his eyes dropping to my breasts.
“Keep an eye on her,” Caius grunts. “I need to speak to Dad.”
“No problem, man.” Gareth winks at me as though we’re sharing a joke. “Thirsty?”
I almost admit I want to see Theo, but then think better of it. I’ll work the Theo angle in a bit. Right now, I have Gareth’s undivided attention.
“Who are all these people?” I whisper, stepping closer. “I don’t remember them.”
Gareth peels his eyes from my chest, only to get lost staring at my crimson-stained lips. “What?”
I smirk. “Focus, horndog. The people all around us.”
“Sorry,” he says almost sheepishly. “You’re distracting tonight.”
I’m unsure if his attraction toward me is an act meant to manipulate me or if it’s authentic. Testing him, I reach forward to straighten his bow tie. “This is crooked.”
His entire body tenses as I fix the bow tie, letting my fingers brush over his upper chest. “I missed this.”
Bringing my gaze from his bow tie to his intense stare, I frown in confusion. “My touch?”
He barks out a soft laugh. “No. We don’t, uh, touch, Ro. I meant this. Our friendship.”
Liar.
They’re all liars.
“We don’t touch?” I give him a playful pout. “Sounds boring.”
Again, he grins at me, wide and handsome. “Careful or my brother will want to kill me again.”
“Which one?” I bite on my bottom lip. “Can you take me to see Theo?”
Gareth’s easy expression falters slightly. It’s only half a second, but I see it. He wasn’t expecting this. Good. I hope I keep them all on their toes.
“Nah,” he says with a shake of his head. “I was going to have you meet someone important.”
Gareth offers me his elbow, which I take, looping my arm with his. He guides me over to a man holding court over a few couples, all of which are rapt with attention.
“Solomon, my man,” Gareth says to the regal, middle-aged man. “I don’t think you’ve met Romy Langston .”
The man—Solomon—peels his stare from the woman in front of him to look my way. His shrewd eyes take me in, and I can nearly see the wheels turning in his head. Gareth emphasized my last name on purpose.
“Ahh,” Solomon says, offering me a smooth, bony hand. “Lovely to meet the daughter of the great Gideon Langston. I’m Solomon Grayhawk, CEO of Grayhawk Steel.”
“Solomon’s claim to fame is he’s the world’s largest provider of steel that’s used to manufacture military weaponry.” Gareth shakes Solomon’s hand after I do. “Every war in this world is using steel that’s been forged in one of his factories.”
“And is this lovely peach yours?” Solomon asks, narrowing his eyes on me while speaking to Gareth.
Prickly awareness washes over me and the chilly presence of a man crowding me from behind. I stiffen at the proximity.
“She’s mine,” a deep voice rumbles, tickling over my hair.
Solomon flits his gaze between me and Caius. “What a shame. She’s exactly my type.”
My breath hitches as Caius slides an arm around my middle, pulling my back against his chest. He nuzzles my ear affectionately, warm breath tickling my hair. To Solomon and other guests, we must seem very much a couple in love.
“Sell it, little girl. Your life depends on it.”
Caius’s words, so soft only I can hear, remind me I’m in a den of starved lions. I’m unsure why he’s suddenly acting possessive and staking his claim in front of this man Gareth wanted me to meet, but my instinct tells me to play along.
Twisting in Caius’s arms, I loop my arms around his neck and stand on my toes to peck his full lips. Caius’s hands settle on my ass, pulling me to him. I can feel the eyes of several people on us, but my gaze remains fixed on Caius.
Warning glimmers in his dark eyes.
The slight pinch between his eyebrows is telling of his worry.
It’s obvious the nerves he was feeling earlier have something to do with this man in particular. It should excite me knowing the man unnerves Caius, but it does exactly the opposite.
Solomon Grayhawk is a bad guy, even worse than the ones who took me.
And in some strange, caveman-like claim over me, I think Caius just saved me.
Interesting.