Chapter 17
Bria
The venue was a hotel ballroom. There were chandeliers, crystal, men in tuxedos, and women in gowns. The kind of place where a single glass of champagne cost more than most people's rent.
Kael kept his hand on my lower back the entire time. People looked at us, whispered, and stared. I could feel their eyes judging me, wondering who I was and why I was on the arm of Kael Voss. I held my head high to keep from freaking out.
We made our rounds. Kael spoke to businessmen and politicians while I smiled, nodded, and said the right things.
I knew I was serving as a accessory, but I didn't mind.
Every time someone looked at me too long, Kael's hand would tighten on my back.
Every time someone asked who I was, he'd say, "She's with me. "
And that was enough.
Kael excused himself to speak with a business associate across the room. He squeezed my hand once—a silent promise that he'd be back. "Stay here," he said. "Get a non-alcoholic drink. I'll be five minutes."
I nodded, watching him disappear into the crowd.
I was alone. For the first time in six months, I was alone in a room full of strangers. My heart was pounding and my palms were sweaty, but then I looked at the bar.
The bartender was pouring champagne; crystal flutes were lined up while bottles of whiskey and vodka glinted under the soft lighting. I realized something: Kael had brought me here, left me alone, and trusted me not to embarrass him.
I smiled. Six months ago, I would have been at that bar grabbing the nearest bottle or trying to find a fix. Six months ago, I didn't trust myself. But now? I was proud of myself.
I walked to the bar, head high, heels clicking against the marble floor.
I caught the bartender's attention and ordered a sparkling water with lime. I had never tried it, but I’d heard it ordered in movies and it seemed appropriate.
The bartender handed it to me. I took a sip, decided it was nasty, and slid it right back onto the bar.
I looked around for familiar faces—Maya, Malachai, or any of Kael's cousins—when someone tapped my shoulder.
I turned to see a tall blonde with sharp cheekbones. Her gown was silver, fitted like a second skin, and the diamonds around her neck probably cost more than my parents' house. She looked at me like I was something she'd scraped off her shoe.
"Well, well," she drawled, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Kael Voss's little stray. I've heard so much about you."
Bitch, what? was my immediate thought.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
She stepped closer, her smile cruel. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue? Or is that just how you are? All those drugs you did probably fried your brain. It's okay. I'll speak slowly so you can understand."
I felt my hands start to shake.
"Look at you," she continued, her eyes dragging over me with open disdain. "All dressed up like a real person. Like you belong here. Like you're not just some junkie he found on the streets and decided to fix."
I pushed myself to respond, but the words tangled in my throat. My face burned with humiliation, and I could tell people nearby were listening.
"Leave me alone," I managed to say.
Vanessa's smile widened. "What was that, dear? I couldn't quite hear you."
She knew exactly what she was doing.
"I—I'm not—" My voice failed me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill.
"Oh, are you going to cry?" Vanessa laughed, low and cruel. "Right here in front of everyone? That's a good look. That's exactly what everyone expects from Kael Voss's little project."
I blinked rapidly, trying to hold the tears back as my chest heaved. I opened my mouth again, but all that came out was a broken whimper. The tears spilled over.
I couldn't stop them. I felt so small, so stupid, so worthless.
Vanessa just kept smiling. "See?" she said, her voice rising so people nearby could hear. "Look at her. Crying like a child. And he brought her here to this event. It's embarrassing, really—for both of you."
Suddenly, I felt a hand on my waist.
Kael. I could smell his cologne. He was back.
"Vanessa," he said. His voice was low and menacing.
Vanessa's smile faltered. "Kael. I was just—"
"You were just what?"
"I was just talking to your little friend here. She seems upset. I was trying to comfort her."
I couldn't look at him out of pure shame. My face was wet with tears, my mascara was likely ruined, and I felt like a mess.
Kael's hand tightened on my waist. "Vanessa," he said, his voice dropping even lower. "I'm going to say this once. You have three seconds to walk away before I decide your father and brother need to learn a lesson for not teaching you who not to fuck with."
Vanessa's face went pale. "Kael, I—"
"One."
"I was just—"
"Two."
She backed away, stammering an apology, her composure completely shattered as she disappeared into the crowd.
He glared at the onlookers, then turned to me. His expression was neutral, but I could see the anger simmering beneath. He reached out and gently wiped the tears from my cheeks.
"You let her do that to you," he said quietly. "You let her make you cry."
"I—I couldn't—" My voice broke. "She was—I tried to—"
"You let an irrelevant person's words get to you. You need to channel Maya," he said, shaking his head.
I cried harder, ashamed of myself.
He tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it, please. You're breaking my heart. Next time, stand up for yourself—unless you want me to do it."
The way he said "do it" made it clear there would be bloodshed involved.
I shook my head, sniffling. "No. I don't want you to do it. I know people end up dead when you handle stuff."
He laughed—a low, genuine sound that caught me off guard. He tilted my chin up with his fingers, his thumb brushing the wetness from my cheek.
"Does that mean you're still scared of me?" he asked.
"No." My voice was steadier now. "That means I'm scared for the people who cross you."
"If they cross you, it's the same as crossing me," he said.
"And me," I reiterated, stepping into him and hiding my face against his warm chest inside his jacket.
I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close as his hand cradled the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair.
"Come on," he said, taking my hand. "Let's get you out of here."
I let him lead me through the crowd, past the whispers and the stares. I didn't care about any of them anymore, because he didn't care—and that was all that mattered.