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I try very hard to not think about Alina or what might be happening to her right now, or, hell, if she’s even still alive. There’s a very real possibility that she isn’t, but I refuse to accept that. I’m going to find her, and if Danil is right, which he usually is, then tomorrow night could very well be a step in the right direction.
Chapter 2
Emily
I grab one of the champagne flutes when a waiter passes by, downing it faster than I should, but fuck is it going to take a lot of liquor to get me through tonight. At twenty, I shouldn’t technically be allowed to drink, but since my dad is the mayor and we’re in his mansion, the rules don’t really apply, not that they ever apply to my dad or anything that has to do with him.
“Pace yourself, sweetheart,” my mom murmurs at the perfect volume so only I can hear her. She manages to make it sound threatening while still keeping the perfectly poised smile on her face. I don’t know how she does it. It’s a skill I’m still trying to master. I tend to wear my emotions all over my face.
“Relax, Mom. I’m not going to get drunk and embarrass you.” When another waiter passes by, I set the empty glass down and grab another. My mom arches a manicured brow at me. “I’m not,” I insist, but then I tip my glass back, swallowing the contents in one go.
My mom doesn’t so much as crack a smile, clearly not impressed with my attempt at humor. I scan the crowd, eyeing the older men in expensive suits that have always made me feel uncomfortable. There’s no way in hell I would ever let myself become intoxicated around these fucking wolves. They may put on innocent, smiling faces for the world to see, but there’s something in their eyes that I’ve never trusted. Over the last few months, I’ve been doing some investigating, and the more I dig, the more questions I have. Something is off with these bastards, and I’m going to find out what it is.
“I really wish you’d worn the black dress,” my mom whispers. “That one at least makes it look like you have some breasts worth looking at, and it makes your hips look smaller.”
I’ve tried my best to become immune to my mom’s insults, but if I’m being honest, they still sting. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her know that, though. I straighten up and paste on a smile that’s just as fake as hers.
“I like yellow, and these functions are morbid enough. It needs a splash of color.” Wanting to get away from her, I turn and say, “Always a pleasure, Mother, but I think I might mingle a bit.” I switch out my empty glass for a full one again. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass Dad.”
“Representative Daniels brought his son tonight. Connor is single again last I heard. You know we’d love to join our families together.”
“But I’m not wearing the black dress, Mom,” I remind her, trying not to dry heave at the idea of been matched with Connor. “Besides, didn’t I just hear that he beat the hell out of some poor young girl and his daddy had to cover it all up?”
Her mouth tightens at the corners, which means she’s super pissed, but you’d never know it by looking at the stapled-on smile she’s still giving. “How they treat their whores isn’t how they treat their wives.”
“Well, that’s a huge comfort, Mom. Thank you. Maybe one day I’ll have that little gem stenciled onto the wall above my headboard, just for some daily inspiration.”
She ignores everything I’ve just said. “A girl should make the best of what she has. Since you’ve obviously chosen to not do that tonight, you’ll just have to use your winning personality to charm him.” She takes a dainty sip of champagne before adding, “And maybe buy yourself some nice tits if you manage to catch his attention.”
“God, Mom, you give the best goddamn pep talks.”
My dad’s laugh pulls my attention across the room before I can throw my drink in my mom’s face. He’s standing next to Representative Strickland, and the two of them are discussing something that’s got them both beaming. I wish I was closer so I could eavesdrop and find out what it is. When Representative Johnson starts making his way over to them, the temptation is too great. With one last glare at my mom and another switcheroo of champagne glasses from the passing waiter, I start to subtly make my way over, smiling at the men and women around me.
The music from the string quartet that’s set up on the veranda filters in through the open French doors, mixing with the mindless chatter from the pretentious assholes around me. I’m almost to where I want to be when I spot a man I’ve never seen before. The sight of him nearly knocks me on my ass, or maybe that’s just from the champagne I’ve been chugging. Either way, I feel tipsy at the sight of him. He’s tall, several inches taller than every other man here, and he’s fucking gorgeous—sculpted jawline, almond-shaped green eyes, and a pair of lips that I’d very much like to taste. The all black suit he’s wearing is accentuating one hell of a pair of broad shoulders. It all works together to create the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, and that beautiful man is headed straight towards my dad.
Dinner is about to start, and once that happens, my dad probably won’t be given a moment’s peace. I watch my dad lean in even closer to Representative Johnson as they shake hands. I swear I see something pass between their hands, but this gorgeous man is about to interrupt them and fuck everything up. Before I can talk myself out of it, I run up to the man and grab his arm, pulling him around to face me. I don’t know which one of us is more shocked. No, that would be me, most definitely me. I look up at the face that’s even more beautiful up close and give him an awkward-as-hell smile.
“Hi,” I say, like an absolute idiot, and then I make it a thousand times worse by saying, “Have we met before?”
He looks down at me, clearly not appreciating me holding him up.
“No, we haven’t,” he says, in an accent that officially marks him as the sexiest human being to ever walk the planet.
I look around him in time to see my dad stuff something in the front pocket of his suit jacket. They start talking again, and when sexy man starts to turn around, I grab onto his arm to stop him. He lifts a dark brow at me.
“Sorry,” I say, and quickly drop my hand. “But can you wait a second?”
“Why would I wait? I want to speak to Mayor Marston.”
“If I promise that you’ll get to speak to him privately, would you please just wait a second?”
“Tell me why?”
I meet his green eyes, wishing like hell he wasn’t so intimidating, and say, “He’s in the middle of an important conversation.”
“Well, he’s about to have an important one with me.”
I grab his forearm, refusing to acknowledge how muscled it feels, and this time his eyes widen a bit in surprise. He is clearly not a man who’s used to being told no.
