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I leaned on Mel as we made our way into the room. No one greeted us when we entered and stopped at the side of the room. Not even the other Daughters made their way to where we stood. Instead they clustered near the entrance, before one or two slowly spread out. That was all they needed. Others followed, in two and threes, leaving the others behind but they didn’t know where to stand. None of us did. So they hovered near each other to find seats at the edge of the room.
The place was breathtaking, polished marble floors gleamed. Chandeliers overhead gave a soft, golden glow. Music drifted in the background, some kind of string or piano that tugged at my focus as Mel and I made our way to where a waiter stood holding a tray of filled glasses. Someone had worked hard to make this feel safe.
I wasn’t sure it was working.
I grabbed a flute of punch and took a sip not knowing where to look. The Daughters. The room. Or the men who stood with hands behind their backs, drinks untouched in front of them as they tried to watch without staring.
But they weren’t coming toward the Daughters.
Why weren’t they coming?
Familiar faces caught my attention. I recognised the men from Vivienne’s files. They looked better looking in the flesh. Heat rose in my cheeks as I drank. One of them caught me staring. I looked away instantly, draining my glass instead. He moved on, focussing on one of the others. Relief swept through me like a current.
“They look intense,” Mel murmured. “That one at least.”
I followed her gaze to where one of them stared at one of the others. “I’m sure they’re very nice.”
London stood at the center of the room the way powerful men always stood—like gravity had quietly reorganised itself around them and everyone else was simply adjusting.
I trusted Vivienne. And Vivienne trusted him. That was the chain. That was all I had and most days it was enough. But trust by proximity wasn’t the same as the one that came from loyalty. And men like London—men who never had to raise their voice to be obeyed—I’d learned to never mistake their control for safety.
He was good to us. I believed that.
I just didn’t trust the why.
His gaze swept the room and stopped briefly at mine. I held it, looking away first would’ve felt like subservience. Like I’d be the one to give in. So, I didn’t. I held that stony stare until he gave a slow nod and moved on.
I breathed out slowly, not wanting to face the fact I held it at all.
“I’ll be back,” Mel murmured.
I nodded grabbing another glass of punch as the waiter moved through the crowd. Nervous laughter barked too loud. Stevie adjusted her dress as one of London’s men approached cautiously. It was happening. It was really happening.
Guild moved through the room the way he always did—quietly, steadily, like weather that’d decided to be gentle today. I watched him without meaning to. He checked doors without making it obvious, murmuring into his wrist, then moved to the next edge of the room and started again. There was something almost meditative about the way he worked. Unhurried. Certain. Like the room could fall apart and he’d simply keep moving through the wreckage, making sure everyone got out safely.
He was kind.
I didn’t like it.
Didn’t want to think about it.
His gaze caught mine. Brief. A small nod before he kept going—nothing heavy in it. Just—I see you. You’re alright. I looked away first this time.
I scanned the rest of the room, took a sip and moved. Bethany smiled as I neared. But she looked solid, more than I expected at least as she spoke softly to one of the others.
“Nyssa. Help.”
I turned to Haven, she lifted a hand, her dress tangled in a bracelet at her wrist. I placed my glass on the table next to us and focused, picking the strands with my one good hand while she scanned the room. “They’re too good looking, Nyssa.”
“Don’t think about that. We’re not here for looks, we’re here for protection.” I pulled the last strand away, letting the bracelet fall before I tucked it inside the sleeve. “They need to be careful. They need to be kind. That’s all we care about, right?”
“Right.” She said softly, the panic easing in her eyes. “Thanks.”
I gave a smile watching her walk away. A shiver raced through me. I scanned the room, finding London’s heavy gaze. He scowled a little, glanced at the others as they ever so slowly started talking to his men. Even Bethany stood in front of someone.
He smiled at her, warm and careful, like he understood something fragile was standing in front of him and he wasn’t going to be the thing that broke it.
Bethany’s chin lifted. Just slightly. I had to look away.