Page 5 of Priceless

It circled in my brain on repeat.

Why?

Frustration clung to my skin. They’d boxed us in damn well, and they knew it. It was true, we were more powerful than the rest of the board, but the power of public opinion was more than all of us. If they decided to scorch the earth, we wouldn’t survive it. Because they weren’t wrong.

Our media presence wasn’t the most squeaky clean, but it wasn’t horrendous either. Mostly it was people speculating about nothing, as they usually did with those who were rich and single. And it didn’t matter that it wasn’t the truth. Or wasn’t the whole truth. All that mattered was appearances. Because by the time the truth could be circulated and gotten into enough hands to be understood and known, it would already be far too late.

We’d seen it happen countless times. We’d just never imagined we’d be on this end of it.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said with a sigh.

“Don’t be too sad,” Cam said. “You know Frank always sets aside some of the old bottles for us. And you like this one. I know you do.”

I nodded. That was true. Frank McCabe, the owner of the estate, did business with us. He started out as a specialty textile importer and had slowly grown into one of the largest textile conglomerates in the country. We sourced from McCabe Fabrics for probably half of our companies. And if the deal with Firefly went through, we’d certainly be doing more business with the company.

The tinkle of music and laughter surrounded us as we entered. The crowd was already gathered, glasses of champagne shimmering and circulating on waiters’ trays. The windows that looked out over the coast let in the orangey light of sunset, painting everything with a lovely glow.

I caught a light floral scent, my eyes drawn to the bouquets on the cocktail tables along the side of the room and with the refreshments. Everywhere I looked there seemed to be flowers. The strange and pretty blend of purple, orange, and yellow that made the room come to life.

A sharp clapping sound drew my eyes, and the man himself walked over to us with a smile. “I was hoping the three of you would show your faces here.”

He reached out a hand to shake, and Everett took it first. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“I found a bottle I’ve been saving for the three of you. I’ll have the staff grab it.”

“We’ll be on the balcony,” I told him.

None of us wanted to mingle tonight, and the large balcony circling the second level of the ballroom was a good place to observe. We’d used it before to keep a low profile. Not to mention there were less cameras up there. That was one thing I didn’t love about this house. There were cameras absolutely everywhere.

Paranoid bastard.

Frank left, and Cam chuckled. “Told you.”

“Yeah.”

When we’d first met, he’d offered us a taste of one of his vintage wines, and he’d latched onto it, serving us with expensive and exclusive liquor every time we encountered him. Unfortunately, the three of us weren’t aficionados. We enjoyed the taste, but mostly because it made Frank’s presence more bearable.

Up on the balcony, I looked out over the crowd, my packmates lining up beside me. There were a couple of other people up here, but not many. The usual suspects from Clarity Coast’s society, and those who had come from Sunset City or flown in.

I spotted several women looking up at us and marking who we were. It never bothered me before, but now that we were on the brink of having to find someone to marry or go down in a blaze of fire, the stares felt different.

A hand fell on my shoulder, and Everett laughed. It felt forced. “Cam’s right. We need to look like everything’s normal.”

“It’s not fucking normal,” I growled.

“You think I don’t know that? Act like it is. We all know this battle isn’t going to be won by you glowering at the room.”

“The rare valid point,” I muttered. Then I sighed, trying to bring my mind back to balance. “Isn’t the gala usually raising money for something?”

“Cancer,” Cam said. “In honor of Gloria Caldwell. But more and more I think it’s just a way for Frank to network and make more connections.”

The Caldwell Foundation was one of the charities on the long list we donated to every year. Which was why we’d been invited. It was also one of the better ones as far as accomplishing their mission, furthering cancer research and treatment.

The same flowers as downstairs trailed along the railing of the balcony, woven around it. They were gorgeous, though they seemed edgier than the vibes in the room. Slightly darker, with the rich purples pulling you into the pops of orange and yellow. I could appreciate a good design concept, especially when I didn’t get to simply do art as much as I wanted to anymore.

“Who the fuck is that?”

Looking up, I followed Everett’s gaze to the corner of the room near the large, arching windows. A woman stood there, lit up by the setting sun. Tan skin bronzed by the glow, contrasting gorgeously with the royal blue of her dress. Every curve she had went on for miles, from the gentle round angle of her face to the large, lush swell of her hips. She was fucking stunning.

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