Page 28 of Pawn

With a smirk, I let the champagne glass fall from my hold, crashing to the floor. Nancy scoffs, looking around at the guests who have their eyes our way.

She’s nervous.

Perfect.

Doing what she wants, backing off, I lean against a white column near the door, ankles crossed, a hand in my pocket. As another tray of champagne moves by, I reach for another, tilting the glass her way when she glances back.

Taking a sip, bubbly settling in my empty stomach, my eyes scan the room. Willow sits at a table with Jordan, a large display of flowers in the middle. They’re whispering to each other before Eric beckons her over to the group of old men he’s standing between. Both Jo and Willow roll their eyes in Rowland unison, Willow obliging, her shoulders hunched.

Left behind, Jordan clenches his fist, and man, this kid is getting angsty with age. With parents like the Huangs, I’m not surprised.

Nancy stays back as Jo and Willow become the topic of conversation. Something exotic and new for these pathetic pigs stewing in money and filth. It’s almost as disgusting as I am.

Nancy glances back, eyeing me with the glass to my lips. She hesitates, shoulders dropping before she walks over. My jaw tightens as she approaches, eyes narrowing as her hands come to my shoulders. I push her off with a hard nudge.

“Damien,” she says, hands out front as I eye her with my lip to my nose. “I know you’re going through a rough time with Marion and Seb—” She pauses. “Your dad. Do you think you should be here right now?”

The bitch can’t even say his name. She’s been fucking my dad for years and I have as much respect for Nancy as I have the gum in the middle of The Grove. She didn’t do a damn thing to soften the blow and now she’s using my girl, my Medusa, like a puppet.

“Why?” Grabbing another glass of champagne, I take a slow sip of the sweet liquid. My eyes narrow at her while I double fist what I expect is Bollinger. Boring. “Worried I’ll ruin your little charity show?”

“Eric and his partners invest in King Financial,” she reminds me with a hushed voice. She takes a small step closer in pointy blue shoes. “Think about that before you do anything that could ruin it for the both of us.”

That gets her another smirk. Nancy Archibald telling me to think? This should be fun. Nodding, I watch her wide, worried eyes as I call the waiter back, downing my drinks and taking a couple more.

“Damien.” I can’t tell if that’s a plea or a warning, but it doesn’t matter. My mind’s already made up.

My index finger out, I’m being polite enough to request another minute. In the meantime, I down the first glass before the other, my smirk growing wider on the final gulp.

Smooth, sweet, delicious.

Like Jo.

Like this plan.

CRASH!

Both empty glasses drop to the ground, smashing at my black leather oxfords. Staring her in those not-so-innocent blues, her pink lips flatten, that vein in her forehead showing its head.

Oh, Nancy. This has only begun. Don’t you know fucking with a King, or fucking a King in her books, will only lead to disaster?

Jo’s head whips to me, Eric’s head lifting towards the noise. Keeping that smirk on my face, I make my way towards them, my legs looser now with the booze kicking in.

“Damien!” Nancy’s quiet call doesn’t bother me as I make my way towards Jo.

Some guests whisper some bullshit about me as I get closer but I don’t give a fuck what they’re saying. I’m here to do one thing and one thing only.

Make her mine.

“Uh, my Joelle is dating Damien King.” Eric’s feet spread like he’s steadying himself for a blow. “The heir to King Financial who we are happily partnered with.”

He says “happily” like it’s a reminder of our business. Well, he did business with my father, not me. And I handle business my way.

His Joelle. Pft, what a fucking dildo. No one calls her that. But with those eyes on me as I get closer, it’s hard to correct him. My eyes land on Jo’s lips and the rest of the room goes black, Eric’s drawl murmuring out. It’s not until my arm, reaches around her, my palm on her face that I give her one of those kisses that makes me forget who the fuck I am.

Once her lips are on mine, it fuels this confidence. It fuels my power. She tastes like sweet syrup, her lips smooth and delicate. Kissing Jo is like hitting that yellow block in Mario. Power-up after power-up and I’m not stopping. She sighs against my lips, one of the only ways to calm her down and hell, it calms me too. But that’s not why I’m doing this.

I don’t stop when Eric calls out to us, when Nancy yells in disapproval. I keep tasting her tongue, my hand way too close to her ass not to reach for it through her dress.

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