Chapter 14 #4
We go back to the gala, where a recreation of Velázquez's Las Meninas is being unveiled to appreciative murmurs.
The guests in their designer wear settle at tables with crystal centerpieces glinting under the chandeliers.
Dinner is served: wagyu carpaccio, lobster with risotto, and gold-flecked chocolate soufflé—exactly what you'd expect at an event where three Michelin-starred chefs are in the kitchen.
Lilith's eyes dart toward the crowded dance floor. "I should probably find Blake. I mean, I did come with him tonight."
Part of me wants to say forget him—she's with me now.
But that would make her the kind of woman who abandons her date, and I wouldn't respect that.
I clear my throat. "Go ahead and find him.
Bring him over to our table." I shrug with practiced nonchalance.
"Blake Walsh won't exactly be heartbroken.
You're just friends, and let's face it—a guy like him always has options. "
Caspian finally walks through the door. I lift my wine glass in his direction, nearly shattering the stem between my fingers when I see who's draped across him like a second skin.
Violet fucking Monroe. The supermodel who's graced more magazine covers than I care to count, and who once told a reporter I was "nouveau riche with the manners to match.
" My jaw clenches so hard I taste blood, but Caspian—my supposed best friend—beams like he's won the goddamn lottery, blind to the viper he's brought into my house.
Casp and Violet join our table. Caspian's eyes dart around the hall before landing on mine. "Sera's meeting you here, right? That's what she said." His voice lifts at the end, hopeful as a kid on Christmas morning. My gut clenches. Oh, you sweet summer child…
Has it really been that long since I talked to him?
No—we were throwing punches at each other just Tuesday.
But apparently that was enough time for Sera to plant her little fantasy in his head.
The one where his best friend and his sister get back together, making one big happy Blackwood family with me finally inducted as an official member.
Christ. The guy can spot a feint from a mile away in the ring, but when it comes to his sister's games? Completely blind.
I lower my voice. "Listen, Caspian. Your sister isn't happening for me. Not ever. You know who I want.”
The chair beside me—Lilith's chair—scrapes against the floor as Sera slides into it. "Found you," she announces, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Hey Casp, Violet." She bumps her brother's arm with a smirk. "Told you he'd be with me."
Christ. I run a hand through my hair, watching three separate guys at the bar twist their necks to follow Sera's movement. Two wedding rings among them, glinting in the low light. Sera turns every men’s head in this place, so why is she so fixated on me?
Meanwhile, Caspian's expression has shifted to something dangerously hopeful, and any minute now, Lilith will walk by, see this tableau, and vanish before I can explain a damn thing.
I shoot Sera a death glare before excusing myself.
Lilith's probably halfway to her car by now.
Last time Sera showed up, she cornered Lilith in her own cabana, practically breathing fire as she warned her to "stay away from Roman.
" Sera has that effect on people—making them feel two inches tall with just a glance from those ice-blue eyes that have graced a dozen magazine covers.
The woman's net worth rivals small countries, and she wields both her beauty and wealth like weapons.
Her social media cult follows her every move; women want to be her, men want to possess her.
Christ. I need to find Lilith before she sees me with Sera and assumes the worst. Blake's probably already filling her head with reasons to bolt.
There she is. Standing alone, scanning the crowd with those wide eyes.
I bulldoze my way through the mass of tuxedos and gowns, muttering half-hearted apologies.
When she spots me, her face lights up and she throws her arms around my neck.
The scent of jasmine and something earthy hits me, and my skin buzzes where she touches me.
Lilith's face lights up when she spots me. "Roman! There you are! Blake abandoned me for the woman I predicted he'd meet tonight—his Queen of Cups."
Talk about perfect timing.
"Queen of what?" I ask, moving closer.
"Cups. From the tarot." She gestures across the room where Blake stands enraptured by a brunette in blue.
"I did a reading that said his soulmate was coming.
Their eyes locked and—poof!—he forgot I existed.
" The way her lips curve upward with genuine delight rather than jealousy loosens something in my chest. She couldn't care less about Blake romantically. Thank God.
"I'll drive you home," I say, already fishing for my keys.
"Don't be silly. My Uber's coming at one—"
"Lilith." My tone leaves no room for argument. "I'm driving you."
She sighs. "But Venice Beach is completely out of your way. You're downtown, aren't you?"
I almost tell her about my place at the Four Seasons in Beverly Grove—barely ten minutes from here—but stop myself. She'd only protest more if she knew how close I lived, while her place is a good half-hour drive.
"Doesn't matter. You're coming with me."
"Roman," she says, smoothing the silk of her dress—the one I had delivered this evening. "The crystal, the dress, now the ride home... A girl might think she's special."
What I want to say is that if she couldn't feel how special she was when we danced, I've clearly lost my touch. Instead, I just give her a slow smile that says everything I'm not ready to put into words.