9. Forever
FOREVER
I felt the weight of eyes on us the moment Jayden and I stepped into the Gala showroom hand-in-hand, the subtle shift in conversation as heads turned our way.
“She’s so stiff,” I heard one of the society girls whisper to her group of friends, though we both knew she’d never say it to my face.
I was that bitch around here and had no problem making an example out of anybody who had a problem or something to say.
But as long as they kept their dislike for me in the group chat, we were good. I couldn’t find the fucks to give otherwise.
“Ignore them,” Jayden murmured as if I needed his weak ass encouragement. “They’re nobody.”
He looked at anybody who was lower in rank as nobodies, including his family. Meanwhile, they were doing their best to level up with help from my bloodline.
Hypocrites.
“Jayden!” a man I recognized as a friend to his brother practically shouted across the room. “Let’s have a chat.
Jayden’s grip on my hand tightened before he loosened it.
“She doesn’t like to be alone in crowds,” he said, smoothly detaching himself from me as if I were the one who didn’t want to let go. “Forever, would you excuse me? I need to speak with Thomas about some family business.”
I laughed and walked away without looking back.
“Ms. James, I’m glad I caught you before someone else approached and stole you away.”
I turned to find Millicent Everwood standing before me in emerald green that complemented her warm brown skin and blonde-streaked locs. She was a descendant of Everwood’s founding father and the Everwood Group’s chief of operations.
“Ms. Everwood,” I replied, giving her a slight nod. “Thank you for the invitation.”
She laughed and waved off my generic response.
“No need to be politically correct with me. I know you’d rather be anywhere but here. Mostly everyone on the guest list feels the same.”
Yet, she was carefree as ever about a room full of people who’d rather see this place burn than return next year.
Millicent never engaged in random conversation without purpose. She had appointed herself the keeper of Everwood’s delicate balance. The puppet master who made the Collective and rejectors dance together without shedding blood for one night every year.
Her eyes flickered briefly to where Jayden stood across the room, and I watched her closely.
Mm.
“My office will be reaching out about your availability to teach this year’s self-defense class.”
In other words, this year’s initiates were ready to meet their new boss.
“I’ll be sure to have Carmen carve out some time.”
“There’s also someone I’d like you to meet,” she added. “A woman with connections that might interest you.”
Millicent rarely facilitated introductions unless there was a significant benefit to her, primarily.
Interesting.
“I’m always open to expanding my network,” I said carefully. “When?”
“Tomorrow afternoon would be ideal.”
I shook my head.
“My office. Thursday at two.”
A jolt of surprise crossed her face. My office was the only space in this city where I’d meet a random woman sent to me by someone I didn’t trust as far as I could throw.
“That might be difficult for—”
She stopped mid-sentence, her attention drawn to the entrance.
I followed her gaze and held back a grin.
Demetrius and Oliver had arrived. Up until now, only their uncle had attended this yearly function on behalf of their family.
“Thursday at two,” I repeated more firmly this time, looking away from the brother duo. “My office.”
She nodded, distracted by the ripple effect the Cannon brothers were creating as they moved through the crowd.
“Very well. I’ll make the arrangements.”
Without waiting for further conversation, I moved toward the bar, needing distance and a perfect place to watch the room. Most importantly, the man who’d just arrived.
The Cannons functioned as unofficial spokespeople for the rejectors at these events. It was the one time when respect was mandatory between the two groups.
“Any kind of Tequila. No ice,” I ordered, leaning against the bar after the glass with amber liquid was ready.
Tonight was nothing more than a performance, a glitch in the matrix, if I had to describe it.
I watched as they made their rounds. Oliver worked the crowd with ease as he smiled and shook hands. Knowing he and Carmen were involved said a lot about his personality.
Demetrius moved differently , a little more reserved and strategic. He spoke only to those who stopped to talk to him.
I found the man, marked for death by the highest levels of the Collective, interesting. I just couldn’t figure out why they wanted him gone now, after all these years of us coexisting with his family.
After my mother killed his father, that is.
Maybe that was the key to the answers I’d been searching for.
To my surprise, Demetrius disengaged from a conversation with an EG board member and started to move in my direction.
I turned away from the room and watched him approach through the bar’s mirror.
He looked good, was dressed impeccably in what, if I had to guess, was custom Armani.
“I could kill you right now and not a soul in this room would blink,” I said, inhaling his intoxicating scent as he saddled up beside me and faced the room.
Our eyes slowly met; his were smiling, and I wasn’t sure if mine were, too.
“You won’t do that without finding what you’ve been looking for first,” he mused, breaking the contact to look ahead. “They’re all watching us.”
I hummed and sipped my tequila.
“Because they know you’re a dead man walking, Demetrius. You shouldn’t have come here, especially after what you did to Jeremiah.”
My not-so-subtle way of letting him know I was on to him hadn’t been planned, but I couldn’t help myself. Either way, he didn’t react at all.
Killing and exposing him to Seo-Yeon as my way out of the marriage alliance wouldn’t hold up, at least now that my dad made his stance clear on my matter.
I decided to keep that information to myself for a little longer, make them believe I’m working hard to find their son’s killer. But I’d switched gears and started looking into who contracted the hit. Demetrius only carried out someone else’s request.
That person was my ticket out.
Especially if it was who I thought it was.
“I’m flattered the woman who claims to want to kill me is concerned for my well-being. That wasn’t the case when you shot out my tires two days ago.”
The fuck.
I looked over to find him regarding me closely.
“Or maybe somebody else wants my head as bad as you,” he added with a nod.
I was doing my best to keep a neutral expression, but could practically feel my body heating up with anger.
He was mine to deal with how I saw fit, and the only person with enough power to force another assassin to take a shot at him was my father. But he wasn’t dead, and that told me this was a warning, a reminder that his threats could come to fruition, and I needed to fall in line.
“You have no care in the world.”
The words slipped before I could stop them. He was too nonchalant for someone with a price on his head.
“There’s a lot I care about, Forever,” he said, somehow closer than before. “Protecting my family and what belongs to me, for one.”
I focused my gaze on the liquid swimming in my glass, while vanilla and bergamot serenaded my nasal cavity.
There was something undeniably calming about him that seemed to wash over all the aches in my body when he was near, especially my head.
Maybe it was his scent or the conviction in his voice, but I needed to remember there was a job to do, and killing him was part of it.
My freedom was more important.
“Who’d you cross?” I asked.
He turned to face the bar, his stance now mirroring mine as he ordered a whiskey neat.
“A lot of people, and it was all worth it. You want to know why that file on your desk has nothing worthwhile in it?”
Our eyes danced as he opened his mouth to answer without waiting for my reply.
“The more they let you in on, the more they expose everything at the root. You and I both know the powers that be can’t have that. But I’ll tell you something they won’t.”
I nodded, mesmerized by his ability to draw me in.
“My mother was one of you; maybe you’ve heard her name before.”
His mother? One of us?
I couldn’t answer fast enough before he started to speak again.
“Your… what is he supposed to be to you? Your fiancé in the name of added power? He’s making his way over, and I think he might be upset with our prolonged conversation.”
I turned just as Jayden stopped in front of us, his gaze moving from me to Demetrius.
“This lasted longer than it should have,” he said, sounding like a whiny bitch. “Forever, let’s go before your father arrives.”
Demetrius laughed.
“A man who’s afraid of his fiancée’s father. How… embarrassing.” He pushed off the bar, then knocked on it. “A pleasure, Ms. James. I hope to share more conversations with you before I die.”
He fucking winked and walked away.
Why was he so goddamn sure I wouldn’t dead him right now? My fingers itched to reach for the gun hidden beneath my floor-length dress.
“What the fuck, Forever,” Jayden whispered harshly. “Are you trying to make us look bad?”
I ignored him and followed Demetrius’s movements until he reached his brother.
He caught my eye one last time before disappearing deeper into the crowd, leaving me with the distinct feeling that whatever game we were playing, he’d just made his move.
And now it was my turn.
But what exactly was it my turn for? And why did it feel like nothing to do with killing or being killed?