Chapter 31 Bloodthirsty
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Bloodthirsty
IRINA
Ihated champagne. I especially hated champagne that was zero percent alcohol. I needed a good half a bottle of vodka to fortify myself for this fashion-launch after-party showdown, and this whole event was dry.
Who the fuck hosted a dry event?
What the fuck was Rumi doing here? And with Cadence? I needed answers, but I wasn’t about to be the one to march up to her and demand them. I wanted to make her come to me. Except so far, Rumi and Cadence seemed to be very deliberately keeping their distance.
This was calculated. She was trying to get me to a state of such heightened anxiety that I wouldn’t be able to think straight when she confronted me. I was sure of it.
And it was working.
“I never thought I’d say this, Henry … but you don’t happen to have your vape on you, do you?”
Henry’s hand tightened in mine. “No, sorry. I was distracted when you walked into my bedroom earlier wearing … that … I forgot everything. Even my wallet.” His eyes strayed to my breasts, which were holding up pretty well with the boob tape I’d strapped them in with.
“I love it when your earnestness comes out a little dirty, Hubby,” I murmured.
Perhaps some light flirting would be a good distraction from the constant feeling of being watched by two women who wished me ill.
“But come see me later when I’m covered in welts from ripping industrial-strength sticky tape off my tits, and we’ll see if you’re still unable to form a thought. ”
“Perhaps I could kiss them better,” Henry mumbled, then, pink-cheeked, took a sip of his zero-fun bubbly.
“Well, that was just flat-out dirty … and I wouldn’t say no to it,” I whispered, wishing I could enjoy the thought of his mouth on my breasts, but it all felt too caught up in these deepening feelings I had for him.
Flirting with him was easy. Teasing him? It was my favourite pastime. But underneath the banter was the knowledge that it meant so much more to me than just the words I said out loud.
The sick feeling in my stomach intensified as I thought about all the ways Rumi could wreck this for me. And not just my chance at becoming an Australian … but this thing that was growing between Henry and me, whether we wanted it to or not.
Don’t kid yourself. You want it.
But did I want it because it was forbidden? So close I could touch it but always just out of reach? Or was it because of him, specifically.
I sighed. It was him.
And fucking Rumi wants to ruin it.
“What are you thinking?” Henry asked, breath soft and warm against my temple. His closeness soothed me, even though I knew he was probably just as agitated as I was about our ex-girlfriend situation.
“I’m wondering how I can avoid staining this borrowed outfit when I smash a champagne flute and stab Rumi in the throat with it,” I snarled under my breath.
Henry let out a bark of shocked laughter that was loud enough to draw the attention of several people nearby … including the one I was fantasising about murdering.
“That’s bloodthirsty of you, Mrs Baxter,” he chuckled, leaning closer and lowering his voice. “But I have to admit, sometimes inflicting imaginary violence on my foes is the only thing that gets me through the day.”
I snorted into my mostly full champagne flute. “What foes do you have?” I asked, teasing but curious. “Who’s pissing you off in the app development world?”
Henry’s smile dimmed. “You’d be surprised at how cutthroat it can be, Catnip.” He sipped his drink. “I’ve created my own proprietary algorithm, and everyone else wishes they could stick a syringe into my brain and siphon out the code so they can emulate it within their own programs.”
I winced. “Sounds brutal. I didn’t realise tech bros were so ruthless!
” Wrapping an arm around his waist, I stepped closer until his firm chest brushed against my breasts.
He sucked in a breath, green eyes wide and bright.
He looked at me more than he used to. It was addictive, having this level of his regard.
“Don’t worry, Hubby,” I purred. “I’ll protect you from the evil nerds.”
“Ooh, we’re discussing evil nerds! How … immature.”
My blood froze in my veins at the cultured voice behind me. I glanced up at Henry. His jaw was suddenly tight, as was his grip on my waist, and we turned to face Rumi and Cadence.
“What did you think of the show?” Rumi asked, eyes latched on Henry, her expression as if she had a rancid smell in her nostrils.
“It was … colourful,” Henry replied coolly, saving me from having to answer. “But it was hard to get a good look at the pieces in that lighting.”
“Fluss is an absolute inspiration!” Rumi gushed, eyes flicking to me before returning to Henry. “Clearly it takes a certain … type to appreciate River’s genius.”
A smirk flitted over Cadence’s face, although her eyes were scanning the crowd as if this were all beneath her. My hands itched to bitch slap the pair of stupid scroaf?. One hand for each of them. Pow, pow!
Henry’s fingers pressed against my hip, probably to remind me not to inflame the situation. I covered his hand with mine, to reassure him that I’d be on my best behaviour. Rumi’s eyes dropped to our hands and caught on my sparkly ring, mouth twitching downwards even further.
Pizd?, it was so hard not to say something bitchy! I bit the inside of my cheek. I didn’t want to ruin River’s event by making a scene, but more than that, I needed to work out what they were up to. And it was easier to catch a mouse with cheese … or whatever the saying was.
I was going to be as cheesy as they came.
“I’m Rumi Zheng …” She let the silence stretch, no doubt waiting to let Henry make the connection to Zheng Holdings, Rumi’s father’s company, which owned the three biggest luxury hotels in Sydney, as well as a list of real estate a mile long.
“Oh … well, it’s nice to meet you, Rumi. Ri’s told me all about you.”
His voice was formal, which wasn’t unusual for him, but I was learning his tells. It was the tone he defaulted to when he was feeling very uncomfortable in a social setting.
That makes two of us, Hubby.
“I’m sure she has—Ri and I go a long way back!” Rumi snarked, giving my forearm a squeeze. Her blood red acrylics dug into my skin, and my stomach sank.
She wouldn’t have approached me if she didn’t have something she intended to either hurt or threaten me with. And now she was embarrassed and angry to top it off. This was not going to end well.
“I heard that congratulations were in order!” Rumi added, snatching up my left hand and admiring my ring with cold eyes. “Such a whirlwind romance, and you both kept it so under wraps … it’s almost like you weren’t even together.”
“Yes, we eloped back in January,” Henry said, plucking my hand out of Rumi’s and giving it a squeeze.
Rumi’s eyebrows shot up into her blunt fringe.
“January, you say?” She smiled sadistically, and my stomach knotted.
“That night out at the club … and afterwards … that must have been your hen’s do, and you never even told me?
I would have given you … well, I was giving you something that night anyway, wasn’t I? ”
“I don’t recall a ‘something’, to be honest,” I snapped, unable to help myself. “It was a whole lot of nothing … that night, and everything that came before it.” So much for cheese.
Rumi’s eyes narrowed, her lips pinched. “I’m so glad I ran into you here,” she exclaimed, all fake niceness.
“I have a little keepsake for you both. I guess we could call it a belated wedding gift.” She pulled out a flattish rectangular gift, wrapped perfectly with Japanese rice paper and a large gold ribbon. Her gaze needled me.
I reached for it, but Rumi snatched her hand away, offering it instead to Henry. “It’s more for your lovely new husband, Irina.”
Henry took the parcel but made no move to open it. “Speaking of new relationships … how long have you two known one another?” He gestured with the gift between Rumi and the up-until-now silent Cadence, tugging me back until my shoulder blades rested against his warm chest.
“Oh!” Cadence’s smile was tense, and I wondered if whatever Rumi was up to, she wasn’t entirely on board with it. “Rumi reached out to me a few weeks back, and we bonded over … well, over the pair of you, funnily enough!” She gave Henry’s arm a squeeze, eyes icing over as she looked me up and down.
My chest stuttered. Yeah, she was on board with it.
“I suppose it’s flattering that I’m still at the forefront of your mind, given our relationship ended six years ago.
I’m sorry I can’t say the same about you.
” The edge to Henry’s voice was harsh, and he hugged me tighter to him, turning us both so Cadence was effectively excluded from the conversation.
To Rumi he said, “Thank you for the gift. You’ll excuse me if I open it later. ”
Rumi pouted ridiculously. “But I went to so much trouble to procure it for you, I’d really love to see the looks on your faces when you open it!”
My stomach dropped into my feet. What could she possibly want him to see so badly? And was it better to get it over and done with, or was revealing whatever she’d ‘procured’ for us risking Henry … or me … having a public reaction that would draw attention to us?
Was that her plan? What was inside the stupid, fancy gift wrap?
I swallowed, plucking the gift from Henry’s hands. Rumi stepped forwards, but I ripped the beautiful paper away before she could stop me.
My mouth fell open, but no sound came out.
“Is that …?” Henry asked, peering over my shoulder. “That’s you, as a child!”
My throat wouldn’t work. Inside a fussy gold frame was a photo. I was about twelve. And I wasn’t alone. I knew this photo. And I knew where it had last been. What I didn’t know was how Rumi had known about it.
“Is that your father?” Henry asked, pointing to the tall, stern, barrel-chested man with his arm around my stiff shoulders. I shook my head. I could feel the burn of Rumi’s stare on my bowed head. My heart hammered violently against my chest.
Where did she get this?
But there was only one answer to that.
So … how did she get it?
“Oh, no, her dad died when she was little—didn’t she tell you? That’s her uncle. He goes by the name Bogdan Lupucojoc. If you wanted to Google him, you might find the results … interesting.”
I’d never told her my uncle’s name. So how did she know it? How much digging had she done into my past? And … how much did she know about me that I’d never intended anyone to know? Rage boiled up, burning away some of the icy fear, but not enough to give me words to attack Rumi with.
Instead, I lifted my eyes to glare at her, hoping with every fibre of my being that I could send my thoughts about her through my retinas directly into her brain.
Du-te dracu, Rumi, you sad, vindictive bitch!
She took a step back, her lips parting in shock. Maybe I was better at silently sending hate to people than I thought.
“We have to go,” I mumbled to Henry, keeping my eyes locked on the woman who I’d thought I’d known once upon a time. My skin crawled, knowing how she’d invaded my privacy. What else might she have found when digging for this? “We have to go, now.”
“Yes, you two probably have a lot to discuss now,” Rumi taunted, but I narrowed my eyes viciously, and she swallowed, her eyes flicking away.
Fucking coward. You can’t even look me in the eye now I know what you’ve done.
“We have dinner plans, don’t we, Cadence?” Rumi grabbed Cadence’s hand and tugged her away. “Have an … enlightening evening, the pair of you!”
With a smarmy little wave, she turned and strutted off.
Cadence looked over her shoulder at Henry, devastation on her face, before they disappeared.
I wondered what Henry’s expression must have been for her to look like that.
But I had no energy to turn and see for myself, and he had me locked against his warm body, his chest moving with deliberate, deep breaths.
Calming breaths. I found my breaths slowing, lengthening to match his.
Was he trying to regulate us both? If so, it was working.
Henry pointed to the other figure in the photo, and what little calm I’d found evaporated.
“Who’s the little boy?”