Chapter 7
Cate
I spot him during my performance. I used to get lost in the feeling of being onstage, the entire room’s eyes on me.
The audience would become a blur of cheers and applause, the adrenaline too thick in my blood to allow me to focus on anything but the sensation of performing.
Now I use the time to try to find my mark for the evening.
He’s handsome, this one, but that’s not what draws me to him.
It’s the fine cut of his tuxedo. The expensive watch chain hanging from his pocket, and the gold ring circling his finger.
It’s the stunned look on this face as he watches me dance, letting me know this is his first time.
He looks at me like he’s never seen anything like me before.
And if he’s never visited La Puissance, then he hasn’t.
A fact I plan to take full advantage of.
I absorb the applause when my number concludes, letting the crowd shower me in an adoration that bolsters my already high confidence.
They’re eating out of the palm of my hand, and my mystery man’s mouth still hangs open in shock.
I wonder if I can take him for the full amount I need to make tonight’s quota, work him so well I only need to see one client this evening.
Based on his wide eyes, he probably doesn’t have much experience with pleasing a woman, but I can be patient if the price is right.
Besides, my own pleasure has become a non-issue; with Lady M’s new contract firmly inked with my signature, my only goal now is to make enough money to protect myself and my sister.
The amount of money I’ve been tasked with bringing into the club is exorbitant but still within the realm of possibility.
I’ve had to stop seeing clients like Charlie who barely have two gold coins to rub together and start catering to the wealthiest patrons of La Puissance.
And I’ve had to begin spending most of my time in the bedroom, leaving little time remaining for performing onstage.
For the foreseeable future, I’ll be sticking to my one solo act, using it to rope in the biggest fish in the club, and devoting the rest of my time to paying off first my debt and then Andra’s.
Andra has also been tasked with a high debt, but since she peddles fake fortunes, she tends to collect fewer coins.
The only way for her to bring in the amount required would be to begin hosting actual readings, provide visions that prove to be accurate.
It wouldn’t take long for word of her Gift to travel, and she could become a target for those who seek power.
Rather than risk discovery, she is continuing on as she always has and I will make up the difference for her.
When my number comes to an end, the crowd roars, tossing flowers and coins, even some small jewels, onto the stage and I sashay to the wings, blowing kisses as I leave.
Backstage, Rosa helps me out of my costume and into a long, red satin dress; cut low and tight, it’s a dress that tends to get me whatever I want.
And tonight, I want him, the man who was so enthralled with my performance that I was able to pick him out of the boisterous crowd.
I want him and his money. I hoist the sumptuous crimson fabric up to my waist, returning my dagger and its sheath to their rightful place, running my thumb over the scarlet jewel set in the hilt as if it can bring me some kind of luck.
“That’s an interesting piece.”
I don’t need to see her to identify her—her voice alone sends a chill racing through me. But I turn to face Lady M as I drop my skirts. “Harold gave it to me.”
“Such an intricate design. And that jewel. It reminds me of one I used to have.” Her golden eyes bore into mine, unreadable but undeniably cold. “Harold must care about you very much.”
“Harold cares about all of us very much. One of his best qualities is how much he cares for people.” It’s a quality he instilled in me, the desire to help others, though as of late I haven’t been able to act on it much.
I push my shoulders back, though even at my full height, I am still several inches shorter than Lady M.
She takes a step closer to me. “The problem with caring for others is that it makes it so easy for them to take advantage of you.”
I ignore her insinuation. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work. I have a quota to meet, after all.” I smooth down the satin of my bodice and turn for the stairs.
Her hand clamps around mine, her pointed nails digging into the soft flesh of my arm.
“I think deep down, you are an intelligent woman, Caterine, even if you do degrade yourself. So let me make this clear. I know who you are, and I know what you can do. More importantly, I know what your sister can do. You do not want to find yourself as my opposition.”
I yank my arm from her grasp and pray she can’t somehow feel the rapid beating of my heart.
I refuse to let her see the fear chilling my blood.
“Stay away from me. Stay away from my sister.” I turn on my heel and race down the short flight of stairs leading from the backstage wings to the entrance of the main salon.
I pause before the door, taking a moment to still my breathing and drop my mask fully into place before I push out into the waiting crowd.
When I enter the main salon, the crowd swarms me, but I brush them off with smiles and waves.
My eyes catch on the guards posted around the room, dressed all in black, standing still as statues.
They’ve been here since we all signed our contracts.
Lady M claims they’re for our protection.
I can’t help feeling they’re more likely to protect her investment than our well-being.
I ignore their looming presence and head directly for the bar, my eyes sweeping the room, looking for a tall man with impeccable taste, determined to push all threats from Lady M from my mind.
Tonight I’m going to make my quota and enjoy myself, just to spite her.
Instead of finding the wealthy newcomer, my eyes land on one of the club’s most handsome, and flirtiest, regulars.
“Lady Caterine.” Maro Violaine pushes off the bar, closing the distance between us. His long dark curls are artfully disheveled, in a way that makes me think he spent an hour in the mirror before stepping out of his grand estate.
“Maro.” I reach for the glass of whisky clasped in his hand, taking a long sip, leaving a perfect red imprint of my lips behind on the crystal.
“I hear congratulations are in order.”
I raise one eyebrow, watching his face closely for any hint at his meaning. “Oh?”
He flashes me his signature grin. It’s charming and disarming and allows him to get his way in just about anything. “Your new benefactress. The club has had quite the makeover in the past few weeks.”
“Right.” So much for pushing Lady M to the back of my mind.
Maro takes his glass of whisky back. “You’re not a fan?”
I don’t say anything, not because I don’t want to, but because Maro’s father is one of the most powerful men in Talia, and even if Maro is considered the black sheep of his family, I can’t have him running to Daddy and spilling all of Harold’s secrets.
So I shrug and flash him a coy smile of my own.
“The club has surely benefited from her patronage. We are lucky to have her.”
Maro chuckles at my obvious lie. “I’m sure you are, Cate. Always a pleasure.” He tosses back his drink, leaving the empty glass on the bar top before disappearing into the crowd.
I never know quite what to make of that man.
Leaning over the long mahogany bar, I flag down one of my favorite bartenders. “Hey, Jimmy!”
Jimmy grins and automatically pours me a whisky. “Great show tonight, Lady Caterine, as always.”
“Thanks, love. Have you seen a new guy anywhere? Tall, handsome, looks very rich and slightly scared?”
Jimmy laughs and cocks his head toward the end of the bar.
And there he is. His back faces the room, missing all the action still happening onstage. Definitely a first-timer. He’s hunched over his drink like he doesn’t want anyone to notice him, which given his height and the breadth of his shoulders is practically impossible.
I slide down the bar until I’m perched right next to him, a sliver of space separating our elbows, resting on the bar top. “Not enjoying the show, my lord?”
The man grunts, his eyes fixed on the golden-brown liquor in his glass.
He doesn’t answer, so I turn my body, letting my breasts graze his biceps.
I lower my voice. “Perhaps there’s something I could show you in private that would pique your interest.” Normally I would let the tension linger between us a little longer, flirt for a few more minutes before propositioning him, but something tells me this man isn’t one for games.
He shifts then, and his eyes find mine. They widen with recognition, and for a moment we just stare at each other.
I knew he was handsome. I could see that even when I was dancing onstage in front of the crowd. But up close, this man is beyond handsome. His jaw is sharp and clean-cut. His eyes are the brightest blue. His hair tumbles in copper-colored curls that I suddenly long to run my fingers through.
He’s beautiful. It’s the kind of face a girl could fall in love with. Or at least, the kind of face any girl but me could fall in love with.
And yet a single word darts through my mind.
Mine.
A shiver races up my back and somehow seems to embed itself under my skin. There’s a buzz, an itch I’ve never experienced before, a longing that feels rooted deep inside my chest. I want to reach out and touch him. But I push the urge down and ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.
I recover first, from this seemingly unbreakable eye contact. I remember who I am, and why I’m here. I clear my throat, dragging a single finger along my collarbone. His eyes follow my touch before drifting down to the swell of my cleavage, exactly as I knew they would.