9.
T here’s elegant jazz playing in the background, but the collective chatter in the Lutkus estate foyer muffles it to the point where I can only hear glimpses of it.
Still, it’s soothing to listen to, and from what I have been able to hear, I’ve found that it gave me the chills.
That’s some strong shit right there, I can tell you that.
“How do you even find a bathroom in a place like this?” Alex wonders as he glances around the massive hall.
He’s rocking a gorgeous teal tux with a pressed white shirt and black Oxfords, but his body language contradicts his sophisticated attire.
His eyes are a little glassy; his posture is loose.
He looks as if he’s in a daze, and smiles at random upper classes as they pass by him.
I would have found his current state hilarious, but given the importance of our being here, I instead find his behavior a little troublesome.
Alex winks at him. “I capped my drinking limit today, Ledge, so yes; yes, you should.”
“And why would you do that, knowing we have a job to do tonight?”
He shrugs. “I’ve had a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon staring at me for days now. All I did was indulge its silent desire of wanting to be emptied.”
“Good God ,” Dorran mutters, just as Varsha asks, “And where was I when you were fulfilling an inanimate object’s silent desire ?
” She looks beautiful in a white, halter-neck jumpsuit, with her short, dark hair tied above her head, and her golden skin illuminating effortlessly against the lighting in here.
“Watching a Bad Omens live show on your laptop,” Alex tells her, which makes me laugh.
Dorran and Varsha whip their heads at me in unison, so I press my lips together and bring my attention back to the foyer.
The Lutkus estate is truly a thing of wonder.
From its gated driveway to its massive, well-manicured gardens.
From its high-end, black-stone architecture to the spacious entrance before us – the place really leaves one at a loss for words as it glimmers brilliantly under the winged glass chandeliers hung from abstract gypsum ceilings.
The spiral stairs on either side lead to a set of bedrooms, and every few seconds, I see the uniformed serving staff all but gliding up and down said stairs, offering appetizers and bubbly champagne to the mingling guests.
Speaking of the guests…
The four of us have already attracted some attention, and we’ve only been here a few minutes.
As I glance around, I notice a few upper classes staring blatantly at us, while others are making sure they’re standing at least thirty feet away from us.
Fear, intrigue, and a pinch of anger – I can all but taste these emotions on my tongue while watching these suited and glammed snobs measuring us with well-practiced smiles on their faces.
“Are you idiots planning on standing here all night, or are you planning on moving any time soon?”
That voice…
Oh my God, that voice . It all but jerks me out of my train of thought, and makes me swivel on my feet so fast that I almost stumble when my dress tangles itself beneath my heels.
“ Solo? ” Dorran says, looking rightfully surprised to see his mentor, and Riverside’s ex sheriff standing before us.
“Hey, kid.” He grins and spreads his arms, and Dorran wastes no time in embracing the smug prick.
“What’re you doing here?” he asks once they’ve let go of each other.
“Not happy to see me?” Solo sasses with a raise of his brows. His grey hair is styled in a coif, and the powder-blue suit he’s wearing hugs his tall frame like second skin. The asshole looks polished, that’s for sure, but why the fuck is he here right now?
“Of course I’m happy to see you,” Dorran tells him. “But last I checked, you weren’t planning on attending the gala. So, what changed?”
“Semantics, Ledge,” Alex mumbles, then steps forward and hugs Solo, who chuckles and returns the favor.
Varsha joins them, and once their little reunion is over and done with, I clear my throat, which immediately catches Solo’s attention.
“Hey, Cigs.” He has the absolute audacity to act casual with me, the old rug.
I smile clinically. “Hey, dick-weasel.”
Dorran coughs, whereas Alex and Varsha step away from Solo as if he might smite them or some shit.
“Is that the nickname we’re going with, then?” Solo muses. “I thought you said you were merely warming up when you called me that on the phone this morning.”
“It matches your caliber really well, so why mess with it, eh?”
He laughs. “Oh, I’ve missed you, you menace of a human being.”
Despite my anger towards him, I do end up cracking a smile. “It’s good to see that you’ve realized how wrong you were b–”
“Solo!”
We all turn in the direction of the voice, and I finally come face-to-face with our client.
Arasander Lutkus has a presence that commands attention.
He waltzes into the foyer with his best friend – Magner, I believe his name is – and an undeniable air of suave regality.
When he reaches us, he smiles and inclines his head at the five of us.
He’s dressed in a crimson tuxedo, which complements his dual-colored eyes and pushed-back hair quite well.
Magner has his hair tied in a high bun, and is wearing a black dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up, along with dark pants that seem too tight for his frame.
The fashion freak in me wants to critique him on it, but I keep my mouth shut because I’m smart enough to know that this ain’t the time for my two cents, valuable as it may be.
“So glad you could make it on such short notice,” Aras says to Solo. He then shakes hands with us all, and when Magner moves forward to do the same, I see how his eyes linger on Alex, despite his hand being wrapped around mine.
I look at Dor, who gives me a slight nod, letting me know that he, too, has noticed Magner’s intrigue.
Alex is still learning to recover from Jayce’s loss.
All these months, he hasn’t so much as mentioned wanting to start seeing other people, let alone wanting to get back into the whole dating game.
And even right now, he seems oblivious – or is trying to act like it – to Magner’s gaze.
Yet another thing I can’t comment on, and only keep to myself, since it’s not my place to interfere.
Alex is family, but I would never openly exploit his comfort by saying something that might upset him.
He deserves so much better than what happened to him back in Riverside, and it kills me that I can’t fix everything for him.
“Am I interrupting something?” Dorran says, making me blink and look at him.
Magner immediately lets go of my hand, realizing he’s held it for too long. “Sorry about that,” he mutters.
I shake my head at him. “That’s completely alr–”
“You’re lucky it’s not her you were ogling,” Dorran cuts in, his voice beautifully icy. He then wraps a strong arm around my waist and smiles darkly at Magner, who chuckles and leans close to him.
“As gorgeous as your girl is,” he whispers, “I don’t exactly swing that way, buddy. Appreciate the warning, though. Now I can go around telling people that I was threatened by the Bloody Prince himself. It’ll make me popular among the crowd.”
Dorran’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. “If not for staring at my Cigs, I should gut you simply for acting smug with me.”
“Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely ,” I say, making sure to glare at Dorran in the process, who rolls his eyes and lets go of my waist.
“You wanna open a butcher shop down the street, baby?” I continue in a pitchy voice, and grin when Dorran glares right back at me. “I can bring in new people every day, and we can mince them to bits together. It’ll be a thing we do, and with Aras’s protection, we’d be untouchable.”
“Maybe you should gut her, too – you know, for acting smug with you and all,” Magner provides, and I place a hand over my mouth when a loud laughter rips out of me.
Dorran’s brows crease as the intensity of his glare increases. It’s painful to watch; I don’t know how he’s doing it.
He opens his mouth and is about to say something, but stops when Solo claps Aras on the back, then proceeds to give him a hug.
“In all honesty, I thought you wouldn’t come, given how abrupt my request was,” Aras admits. “And also, because when I’d first invited you to attend the gala last month, you’d refused.”
Solo lifts a shoulder as he scratches his stubble. “Well, you drove quite an enticing bargain today, Lutkus,” he says. “Good champagne and good-looking people? Now that’s an offer I couldn’t, under good conscience, refuse.”
Dorran shakes his head. “And here I thought you came all this way just to see me .”
“I mean, you got a good face, kid, but I sure as hell can’t fuck it.” When I give him a ‘ What the fuck? ’ look, he only laughs. Dorran, on the other hand, simply scoffs and shakes his head again.
“Wow… And we’ve only just gotten here,” Alex muses, rubbing a hand over his face.
Aras’s eyes ping pong between us – amusement painted clearly across his features – before he clicks his tongue and gestures at the guests behind him.
“I think you guys should mingle a little,” he says. “Standing here and doing nothing will get you the kind of attention you don’t need. Blending in and making acquaintances, however, will work in your favor.”
“Have the targets arrived yet?” Varsha asks.
“Just one so far.” He jerks his head to the side, and I see Timothy Byron in a secluded corner, talking closely to a woman who looks just as young as he is.
“Jedediah and Selina?” Dorran inquires.
Aras’s jaw ticks as his eyes briefly flit through the guests. “Not here yet.”
If I poke the air around us right now, I’m sure I’ll feel a pressure against my finger, because Aras’s mood went from welcoming to hostile in a split second at the mention of Jedediah.
And rightfully so. That asshole did something unforgivable, took something from a woman who didn’t willingly give it to him.
Men like Jedediah thrive on dominance. It’s never about equal power for them; it’s always blatant cruelty and greed.
They take, and take, and take, not caring about the consequences or the pain they leave in their wake.
And you know what the most fucked up part is?
The people who know them either don’t care about their flaws, or are sick enough to turn a blind eye to them.
And I don’t know which out of the two Selina is, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
Men like Dorran may seem morally wrong to some, but those people don’t know the full extent of Jedediah’s arrogance.
Of the fear, the ache, and the despair his victim must’ve endured.
And the Law isn’t fair. Neither is life .
Dorran, Alex, and Varsha are prime examples of people who step up when righteousness roots the feet of those who abide these Laws .
Those three are the ones who show up, deliver, and don’t hesitate for a second when extreme measures are needed to bring about forbidden, yet necessary justice.
“Listen up, guys,” Dorran says, sliding his hands into his pant pockets. “Let’s spread out and get to work.” He points at Varsha. “You’re with me,” he tells her, then looks at me. “You go with Alex. Keep him out of trouble, yeah?”
I smile. “You got it.”
He bends and kisses me on the lips. “Stay safe,” he whispers. “Text me if you need me. And please, for the love of Christ, don’t drink. Stay away from alcohol like it’s a goddamn plague.”
I place a hand on my chest. “You’re always so thoughtful.”
He chuckles. “Fuck you.” Moving back, he grins down at me, then mouths, “I love you.” His gaze traces my face, before he flicks it up and behind me. “And Solo, I need you to–”
“Stay on the ground and schmooze with the upper classes while also keeping track of potential threats. I know, kid. I’ve got this.”
Dorran nods. “Perfect.” He then stretches his neck side-to-side and scans the congested foyer. “Alright, then; let’s go kill some deserving motherfucks, shall we?”