Page 118 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

The moment the patriarch looked at his wife, the Representative’s composure shattered. She cried out, and her chair tumbled to the ground. She practically flew around the table.

“Dyna, have mercy on us,” Tertia sobbed as she kissed her husband. “You’re here.”

CHAPTER 28

Complications Abound

What had begun as a formal dinner quickly evolved into something that made Brynleigh uncomfortable in more ways than one.

Earlier, Tertia’s abhorrent, bitchy behavior had been one thing. It was fine. More than fine, if Brynleigh was being honest. If that was how his mother acted, maybe Brynleigh was doing the right thing by killing Ryker. Maybe that mask she’d seen in the car, the one he’d worn when they first entered the house, was really who he was, and he was just like his mother.

Brynleigh had been feeling more confident in her plan and boundaries right up until Ryker’s father coughed. When Tertia’s chair crashed to the ground, Brynleigh saw an entirely new side of the family.

It was wholly unwelcome.

Now, she felt like an intruder in the most intimate of moments. Brynleigh was a spectator, sitting back and trying to shrink against the wall as the family hugged their patriarch and cried.

The cold Representative had transformed into a warm, loving wife as she peppered her husband with kisses. She took his hand gently and spoke to him in soft tones.

The way River looked at her father—like he had personally hung the moon and stars in the sky—reminded Brynleigh of the love she’d had for her parents.

And Ryker.

Captain Ryker Waterborn of the Army’s Fae Division fucking cried. Not just a tear or two. He openly wept, tears rolling down his cheeks as he kneeled at his father’s side.

Gods damn it all, witnessing Ryker cry made Brynleigh feel all sorts of things that she had no business feeling.

She couldn’t ignore the truth any longer: she was in trouble. Things were getting far too complicated for her liking. She had come to this dinner hoping to find more reasons to kill Ryker.

And now? This wasn’t what Brynleigh had signed up for. This game was about death, brutality, and heartless revenge. She knew that, yet her heart insisted on breaking at the joy and sadness in this room. Damned tears lined her eyes.

This was too much. There were too many emotions. Too much going on in this room.

She must have made a sound because Ryker glanced at her as though asking if she was alright. She wasn’t, but she still nodded. Ryker returned to his father, murmuring.

At some point, the servants brought in more food. There was a veritable feast on the table, which Brynleigh could not eat.

Avoiding the emotional scene still unfolding before her, Brynleigh studied the paintings on the wall. Some were landscapes, a few were portraits, and all looked expensive. Usually, displays of wealth like this turned her stomach, but she had bigger things to worry about right now. Tertia slowly spooned her husband some gazpacho while River and Ryker spoke to him through watery smiles.

The four of them seemed happy, and it was…

Horrible.

She needed to get out of here.

Brynleigh refilled her blood wine from the nearest decanter and pushed her chair back from the table. “Where’s the ladies’ room?”

Ryker met her gaze from across the table. “Down the hall and three doors to the left. Do you need me to come with you?”

So gods-damned considerate.

Another emotion arose. Brynleigh didn’t analyze it before grabbing it and pushing it down. It barely fit. She shook her head. “No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“She’s nice,” Cyrus whispered. “You Chose well, Ryker.”

No, he didn’t. He Chose a woman intent on killing him.

Panic was churning mass, threatening to spill the contents of Brynleigh’s stomach. Fuck, she had to get out of here.

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