Chapter 116 Christianna
Chapter one hundred sixteen
Christianna
The past week has been a whirlwind of rehearsals and final touches for the dinner. I have never been so pampered nor so sleep-deprived.
Now instead of being one of many with the orchestra, I am front and center.
I don’t plan where to stand, but I end up there anyway. Between them. We decided not to hide our relationship and this is as public as it gets. Erik’s hand is laced with mine, warm and steady. Remy’s arm rests around my shoulders, his palm firm at my upper arm.
The room hums with polished conversation and expensive perfume. Crystal glasses. Quiet money. We have been here chatting with patrons for the last hour. As we chat with our box holders, a persistent chill running down my back.
Maintaining eye contact with the bank president in front of me is becoming difficult.
Someone is watching me, and the energy is malevolent.
Remy absently rubs his hand up and down my arm as he feels my flesh pebble.
I glance at Ruiz. He is just across from me, watching the room.
I follow his gaze to a group of women near the bar.
They have mean girl energy and I catch one pointing our way before she sees me looking.
I force my attention back and murmur politely as the man and his wife break away.
A woman breaks off from the group and approaches, bedecked in jewels.
Older, probably fifties, with hair she probably thinks is platinum blonde but which looks gray against her sagging jowls and overdone makeup I suppress an eye roll.
She is whispering to her friend as she approaches and I feel my stomach tighten at the disdainful look on their faces.
“Well,” the first woman says, eyes flicking over the three of us. “This is… interesting.”
Erik ignores them. I need to learn how to do that. Her gaze lands on me. She tilts her head, lips curving. “I suppose at least you’ll always know who the father is.”
“My mother is blonde with blue eyes,” Remy says calmly.
Her brows lift, unimpressed. The familiar heat rises in my chest, but I don’t let it turn sharp. I meet her gaze. “My grandfather was Black.”
Her mouth opens, just slightly. Erik turns his head then, fully facing her.
“You should be embarrassed,” he says evenly. “You said that casually. Publicly.”
There’s a muttered, “Charles is going to go through the roof when he finds out,” from someone in a nearby group, followed by nervous titters.
“Oh, please,” she scoffs. “I didn’t mean anything by it. People are so sensitive now.”
“You are an embarrassment,” Erik replies. The woman beside her stays silent. Watches. Says nothing.
“Do you know who my husband is?” the first woman snaps.
“Yes,” Erik says. “And he will not look kindly on being barred permanently from our events and properties for cause.”
Her face flushes. “This is outrageous.”
Remy turns his head slightly. “Meg.”
Meg appears instantly, tablet already in hand. “Revoke any standing invitations for her, and refund the box her husband purchased for his business,” Remy says. “And for her guest.”
The second woman finally speaks. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Your silence was complicit. That is on you,” Erik replies.
Meg nods once.
Security is already moving in.
Remy tightens his arm around me and finally looks at the woman directly. “You should go.”
They’re escorted away, her voice still carrying, sharp and indignant, until the doors close and the sound cuts off.
Conversation resumes in cautious ripples. A few people raise their glasses to us. Erik lifts my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles.
“You okay?” Remy asks quietly.
I nod.
“I didn’t need rescuing,” I say, just as quietly. “But thank you for standing with me.”
Remy’s mouth curves slightly. “Always.”
“She came from the group by the bar,” I say in a low voice. “Not sure who they are.”
“I’ll look into it. You and Erik are about to perform.” He gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze before moving toward the center of the room.
James, who has had the orchestra playing softly in the background, brings the music to a stop.
Remy easily commands attention as the people angle toward him.
Erik moves me off toward the small stage set up in the back corner of the room.
I lean down for my violin. The strings are cut. All of them.
Ruiz, now directly behind me, curses under his breath.
For a second, the room tilts. The earlier chill crawls back up my spine. I inhale slowly and claw down the panic rising in my chest. Ruiz is here. I reach out to him and grab his jacket cuff. “I need you to stay close, please.”
He nods and turns his arm so his hand can give mine a quick squeeze.
Bracing myself, I make my way to James. “The strings are cut,” I tell him quietly.
“I can get you another violin. Or Liu can do the piece if you’re uncomfortable.”
My hands want to curl into fists. I force them open. “No. I can do it. If I can borrow one.”
Liu, who is seated close enough to hear, stands immediately and offers hers. “Thank you. I’ll return it as soon as we’re done.” She nods once and passes it to me.