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“He is. He looks totally smitten by you too,” she offers with a grin.
“Oh?” I ask, my eyes flicking over to where Ben is, and I see him looking right at me. He raises his class and gives me a wink, one that makes me smile.
“Looks like you both are,” Beth murmurs, and we both laugh.
“Listen, I need to go and mingle, but I will see you at the table after,” she says, her smile now beaming, and I watch her float away, dodging people, being stopped by a few. I look around the room, taking in all the guests. There is no one here I know except for one person. Mr. Beasley is over on the far side of the room and is currently in a very animated discussion with Ben’s mom. I watch them for a beat, until they both look right at me, and I swallow roughly. There is no doubt they are talking about me now, so I decide to make my way to the bathrooms to freshen up before we all need to take our seats.
I maneuver through the crowd, feeling jittery again. With my steps measured, I find my way, thanking my lucky stars that there is no line and keeping my head low, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Being with Ben means I have a big target on my back, and I know people are watching me and trying to figure out who I am since I am not from their world. I pray that I can enjoy the evening unscathed, but even I know I am not that lucky.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” a female voice says as I push my way into the bathroom and stop mid-stride.
Sasha. Looking an equal mix of stunning and yet not wearing enough clothes. Her dress is long, tight, and black, with a myriad of cut-outs showing her glowing tanned skin, her amazing breasts, and her legs that seem to travel longer than is humanly possible. It leaves very little to the imagination.
“Hi, Sasha,” I say, keeping things simple and polite, not needing any trouble.
“What games are you playing at?” she hisses, and I look around the small bathroom, finding it empty.
“What do you mean?” I’m starting to realize that she may not be that easy to get along with.
“Everyone in this city knows that Ben is mine. Yet you showed up from God knows where, and you’re now wearing a diamond on your hand, pretending you belong, when we both know you don’t.” She’s basically growling by the end of her rant, and I start to question if she could know the engagement is fake.
“Sasha, I have no idea what you are talking about.” Shrugging her off, I act as if I’m bored of her and head toward the open stall.
“You are never at these events, and then all of a sudden you show up! So unless Ben has been keeping you hidden somewhere, I am going to assume you are hired.” She throws out the accusation of me being an escort, and my shoulders tense. I am many things, but getting paid for sex is not one of them.
“Oh, well, since you’re so concerned about my whereabouts, I spend most of my time at the estate. Ben and I prefer it out of the city. We like our privacy,” I offer with a sweet smile as her jaw drops. Ben told me he never took anyone to his estate so I knew that would shock her.
“Besides, from what I hear, you are the only gold digger in this bathroom.” I shoot her a smile before locking myself in the stall and holding my breath. I hear Sasha about to say something, but then two other women walk in, so I take the opportunity to do my business, freshen up, and when I walk back out, she is gone.
I take some deep breaths and try to pull myself together. I don’t particularly like arguing like that. I prefer not to have conflict of any kind. But I need to hold up my end of the agreement, even when Ben is not with me.
The women smile at me as they look me up and down. I straighten my dress, put on some fresh gloss, and walk out, mingling back in with the crowd to make my way to our table. As I stride across the hall, confident in my heels, I feel a hand grip around my upper arm, to the point of pain.
“Why am I not surprised to see you here. Are you with your fiancé?” he spits out quietly, close to my ear, his breath hot and smelling like strong liquor. My body shivers. I knew it was too good to be true. First Ben’s mom makes me feel less than welcome. Then Sasha confronts me in the bathroom. Now Jeremy is cutting off my blood supply to my arm as he drags me inconspicuously to the side of the hall and around the corner. I believe that in life you get signs, and if tonight is not the biggest sign that I need to never come into the city again, I am not sure what is.
“Let go of me,” I hiss, pulling my arm from his grip. It throbs as I look down, spotting angry red hand marks.
“You need to fucking end this charade, prancing around with a fucking Rothschild,” he growls low, his jealous tone sweeping over my body and making me tremble, then he plasters on a big smile at a few businessmen who walk past.
“I suggest you leave me alone and get on with your own pathetic life.” I might be terrified, but I am also angry. He can’t keep doing this to me. I won’t let him.
I turn quickly and strut out of the hallway before he can grab me again, so close that I see the crowd within reach. But I am not that lucky.
I feel his hand grip my arm again, searing the same spot, causing me to curl my body a little as harsher pain shoots up to my shoulder. I see people a few feet in front of me, none of them looking this way, all in their own conversations.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” he seethes, his tone low and deep. As I glance around, I spot Sasha down the other end of the hallway, watching our interaction with interest, and my stomach drops at being seen like this.
“You need to let me go. Do not cause a scene.” I’m almost pleading now, because I don’t want this to blow up and embarrass Ben at his family’s gala. My body is hot, my palms sweaty, my heart racing. He needs to let us go. Let any notion he has in his mind that thinks I am his fade away. It has been going on for far too long and showing no signs of stopping.
“A scene? I will fucking cause a scene. You are mine, Emily. No one else will have you, especially not a fucking Rothschild.” I knew it. I knew this new ferocity from him was solely due to Ben and me being together. I watch him as he looks me up and down, his lip curling and his nostrils flaring.
“Maybe I should have a word with my new brother-in-law, the governor. I can discuss the harassment policies and new laws around partner violence. Maybe his new government needs a firsthand account of what that is like. Maybe someone they can put in front of the media to tell her story,” I say to him, my tone firm. I never used to have the courage to stand up to him before. In fact, I would do anything to either avoid or appease him. Even though I don’t want to cause a scene, I don’t want to totally back down either.
He looks down at me, his jaw clenching. I have no intention of putting my experience up for media fodder, but he doesn’t know that.
“You are fucking delusional. As if anyone would believe a poor woman from William Heights.” He looks unsure as he says it, and I know I have hit a nerve.
“Maybe the governor will want to know all the details. Not just the abuse I have endured, but how I was left without money to care for my baby, a single mother who had to climb out of poverty and start over all on her own with no support system,” I continue, and I see a fire burning in his darkening eyes.
