Chapter 15 Angel
Angel
While the exterior of the building left a lot to be desired in comparison to the luxury of our attire, it became apparent why we were dressed so ostentatiously as soon as we stepped through the guarded front doors.
Low, sensual lights illuminated the large open room, casting the other club goers in a soft glow.
Music filled the room, rhythmic and deep.
It seemed to lull those in attendance to sway and move, showcasing high-end jewelry glimmering on women's necks, ears, and hands, while peeks of gold glinted on men's wrists whenever the designer suit jackets and underlying dress shirt sleeves shifted just enough.
Glancing around the room was enough to tell me that even the decor and furnishings within the nightclub were no doubt expensive.
Deep red velvet couches, silken drapes hung from the ceiling, and crystal and gold embellishments covered the walls and ceiling in detailed designs.
It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for me to see, having been born a Price Family princess, but what caught my attention and triggered my internal alarm bells was the undercurrent of excited tension that seemed to plague the guests as they mingled.
"Come," Gaven instructed, his hand practically burning my skin from where it rested on my lower back.
My husband guided me through the room, greeting various people with a respectful nod or minute smirk on his lips.
Implications and questions whirled in my mind as he began to slow near a small group of people—three men and two women—all conversing in hushed tones that were lost amongst the music.
When they noticed our approach though, conversation ceased, and their focus turned to us.
I’d been in enough uncomfortable situations now that the fresh, probing gazes that zeroed in on me didn’t make me shift nervously.
I tamped that shit down, and thankfully, the inspection only lasted a few brief moments before the tallest of the group, a man with inky black hair and tanned skin, reached out to shake Gaven's hand.
"Gaven," he greeted in a steady but friendly tone, "it's been too long."
Without hesitating, Gaven gripped the outstretched hand, echoing a similar sentiment at the man.
"That it has, Ian, but all seems to be going well for you and the others.
How is Miss Perelli, or should I say Mrs.?
" I didn't need to look up to see the knowing grin on his face; it was blatantly apparent in his tone, but neither the man—Ian—nor the others seemed bothered by it.
“She’s only a Perelli by blood, man. She’s got a new last name now … well,”—he chuckled—“a few of them. She’s doing very well, though. Who is this?" With that, all the focus was on me again.
"This is my wife, Evangeline. Angel, these are some of my friends," Gaven introduced, gesturing to each person. "Ian Marshall, Jensen Travis, and Archer Petrov. These two ladies are Katerina Markovski and Genevieve Durand."
Jensen and Archer stood closer to Ian, obviously deferring to him as they cut looks his way before returning their attention to Gaven and me.
Genevieve and Katerina both stood against a small, round cocktail table, casually leaning into the stand as they kept their eyes on first me and then Gaven.
Crystal glasses glimmered in the light as they absently swirled their wine while the men had foregone any sort of drink.
"Nice to meet you," I said, nodding to the group.
Katerina and Genevieve smiled my way but offered no more greeting than that. The man Gaven had pointed out as Archer grinned and lifted his palm in a wave while Jensen merely nodded.
Once I was introduced and the typical pleasantries exchanged, I was more than content to stand silently and observe the group.
The more I knew, the better I would be in the long run.
Any snippet of information could be of use for escape.
As I listened, though, I found the more they conversed, the less I truly understood.
I couldn't help but wonder just who they were to Gaven. He’d called them friends?
But did a man like Gaven even have friends?
Perhaps they were partners. Or as close as one could come to having business partners in this life.
Clients? Did they have their own criminal enterprises?
It wouldn't surprise me. I recognized the name Perelli from my time living with my father.
What had happened to the head of the family, Jason, had spread like wildfire not long before my nuptials.
My eyes scanned to the women Gaven had introduced.
What were Katerina and Genevieve to Gaven?
They were both beautiful women after all, with long, well-shaped legs and curves for days.
Both wore makeup that only accented their already naturally pretty features, from their eyelashes to their fuller lips.
A sharp, ugly ache burned deep within my chest at the thought of either of the two women having shared Gaven's bed in the last five years I'd been on the run. Before the idea could take root further, I shoved it away, refusing to allow even the tiniest hint of jealousy to simmer in my gut. It didn't matter if Gaven had had others. I’d left, and I hadn’t ever expected him to stay abstinent.
Then again, if I was to linger and a woman thought he was for the taking …
that would be an entirely different matter.
I shook my head at that thought. Perhaps Gaven’s obsession was rubbing off on me. If we’d been together longer, I might have been even crazier than I was now just thinking of tearing into these unsuspecting women for imagined slights and desires over my husband.
As if the cruel twist of fate that were my rioting emotions had conjured the darkest villain of my past, a shimmer of something caught my peripheral attention. I turned and spotted expertly styled dark tresses, a cruel slash of a scowl, and a stern brown gaze. I froze against Gaven’s side.
No. There was no fucking way. There was only one I knew who looked like an avenging, raging devil disguised as an angel carved out of cold-hearted stone in such a manner.
Jackie. My sister.
“Angel?” Gaven’s call was ignored as I searched the room for the woman. Just as quickly as she had seemed to appear, though, she was gone. I scanned the crowd again. There was no sign of her.
Had I imagined it? Maybe being out in the open with Gaven like this was making me paranoid. Still … I couldn't shake the feeling of something wrong in my gut. Nor the feeling of eyes on my back.
"Darling." I startled when Gaven murmured in my ear, closer this time and with far more force. I cursed myself silently for my lack of awareness in my bout of alarm.
"Yes … Sir?" My reply only wavered for a split second when his gaze darkened momentarily, knowing right now was absolutely not the place to push him. Especially as my ass continued to throb when I shifted and moved or when my dress brushed over the still reddened flesh.
It seemed as if I read him correctly because the warning glimmer in his expression shifted to a brief show of pride. "Everything alright?"
Of course, he realized something was off despite my best attempts to mask it. He was nothing if not infinitely cognizant of everything around him, including me.
"I'm fine." I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should say something about what I had thought I'd seen, but I didn't want to go back to that room and lose the first night out in God knew how fucking long. Instead, I settled on, "I just need to use the ladies' room."
Icy blue eyes scanned my face for a brief moment, but I held my expression as calm as possible, my cheeks heating only slightly at the intensity and heat of his gaze. I had no doubt if he wanted, he would eat me up right then in there, crowd be damned.
"Of course." Gaven looked over his shoulder, nodding at two men who had been standing by the wall since we'd arrived. I blinked, not having realized that the guards were Gaven's and not the clubs when they moved away from the gilded wall panel.
"Here, let me show you," Katerina interjected with a polite smile, waiting until Gaven had nodded his permission before she guided me away from the group.
It was tense and awkward as we slipped between small, gathered crowds of men and women dressed to impress and practically oozing riches and power.
Only when we reached a small hall off the main room did she speak. "There’s no need to worry," she said with a light chuckle.
Jerking my head, I looked over at the petite blond, who even in her heels only came up to my chin. "Worry about what?" I feigned ignorance.
"About Gaven and his … potential connections to Gen and I." The statement was simple, said in a way that made it sound like she was talking about the weather or reading items off a grocery list, not discussing my husband's potential affairs in our time apart.
"Oh?" Acid crawled up my throat, choking me as we neared the door labeled 'Ladies' in an elegant script.
She offered me a gentle smile. “Gaven’s not the kind of man to stray from a commitment once he’s made it.
” Her eyes panned down as she looked at me and then back up to my face.
“Certainly not from a beautiful dove such as yourself.” I blinked at the odd compliment.
Had it been a compliment? “Straying from a wife that looks like you would be such a waste,” she continued, “and Gaven has never been one to waste anything. "
No, he just wanted to put me in a gilded cage, I thought bitterly. Yet, the unwanted jealousy that had plagued me faded at her words.
“And if it makes you feel any better, Gen and I are quite happily exclusive with one another.” Her words penetrated my thick skull and my eyes widened. Oh … oh!
“I didn’t realize,” I said. “I’m sorry if my expression—”