Page 94 of Cruel Fate

“Good. Play that up.”

I want to go into all the bullshit I’ve been dealing with since I started going to the office, and Nigel knows, can see the impatience on my face. He nods at the bartender and tilts his head at me, ordering the same drink as mine. Casual. “Not here. Have fun, shake hands, and show everyone you’re steady and in control. There’s plenty of time to talk. I want to look over a few things before anyone knows I’ll be staying for a while.”

Before anyone can bury anything.

There seems to be a lot of that going around.

Nigel’s wife, Helena, joins us, and we chat about their hotel accommodations, Nigel courteously steering the conversation away from their flight. I can’t talk planes—especially the luxury private jet the Wagners flew on to the States. It requires a massive amount of willpower to keep a smile on my face and my parents’ crash off my mind.

Ash stares at us from across the room. He’s sitting at a table alone, his feet propped up on a chair. He’s sipping a drink and looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but his sharp eyes miss nothing.

“He’s like a shark,” Nigel says, accepting the drink the busy bartender poured him. “What does he want?”

Ash nods and lifts his glass, making no move to join us.

I lift my glass as well and then take a sip. “Seems he has everything he could want.”

Helena scoffs. “A man like that is never satisfied. His father taught him nothing is ever enough.”

“Darling, I do believe you dislike Mr. Black,” Nigel says, smiling.

“There is nothing even remotely redeeming about that man. I’m sorry,” she says, turning to me. “I know Kagan and Clayton were the very best of friends. Your father must have known a side of Clayton he doesn’t show to anyone else.”

My father didn’t suffer fools or cruelty, and all I can assume is Clayton’s public persona is darker than he truly is. He’s never been unkind to me and he always treated my mother with respect. That goes for Ash as well. He can be dark and dangerous, but in private, he cares, and he’s never shown me evidence to the contrary.

From experience, I know you can’t appear too soft or people will take advantage of you, or try to. My grieving period went on too long, and I should have done this months ago. Maybe even as soon as my parents passed away. I let my vulnerability show, and now I’m paying the price. I can only hope I didn’t bring Nigel in too late to repair the damage I did.

I look for Stella again, needing to see her face. She’s speaking to a very wealthy, and very single, Italian prince. He’s probably enjoying talking to her because I would bet the Maddox fortune she has no idea who he is. Prince Sergio Cardello doesn’t get the chance to be himself very often.

“Stella made a new friend.” Nigel smiles into his drink.

She has, but I won’t fall for Nigel’s bait. There’s nothing to be gained by being jealous. She’s mine, and everyone knows she is. I claimed her not two hours ago, and I will again after the party, over and over until she’s crying my name. My dick twitches as I think of opening her and pushing myself inside her welcoming heat.

I need her.

Helena starts in the direction of the restrooms, her dress’s hem swishing around her ankles. She strides across the ballroom, and Nigel excuses himself to speak to someone.

I grow tired of watching Cardello fawn over Stella, and I retrieve her, my hand to her back. She smiles at me, not a hint of guilt on her face.

Every day we’re together, I marvel she loves me back. She’s proud of me, and I want to keep living up to her standards.

I lead her onto the minuscule dance floor tucked into the corner of the ballroom and wrap my arms around her. She feels real and safe. Not the sexiest adjectives I could use to describe her, but my life is tumultuous at best and a fucking nightmare at worst, and her being someone I can depend on means a lot to me right now.

Though, I’ll have to tell Nigel Stella was snooping where she didn’t belong. I haven’t heard any more about it. The snooping, I mean. Denton could still be meeting Clayton behind my back, and it’s something else Nigel will have to help me sort out. I’ll owe him more than I can repay when this is done.

Denton and Cramer are here networking on behalf of Maddox Industries. Things have calmed down a bit there, but Nigel deserves the credit. I relaxed after I called him that day I visited the cemetery, and our meetings stopped being so volatile.

“Are you having fun?” I ask.

She lifts her head off my shoulder, and her eyes are shining. “Everyone is so nice. Do you know the man I was talking to? He stopped me to compliment my dress, and his accent was so thick I could barely understand him.”

I purse my lips against the laughter threatening to spill out. Only Stella would comment on an Italian prince’s accent and not the billions of dollars at his disposal or the real crown he wears.

The music fades, and the tone in the room shifts. Cocktail hour is over, and everyone gradually moves to find their seat.I help Stella navigate through the throng of guests, and at our table in front of the room, I tuck her close to me. Also sitting with us are Nigel and Helena, Ash and my sister, Clayton and Willow, and two other couples who were close friends of my mother and father’s.

Stella looks over our place settings, her eyes widening in alarm, and I laugh. “Work your way in,” I say, gesturing to the silverware.

Zarah blushes. She overlooked the need for etiquette lessons, but Stella can hold her own and I brush off any worry. Ash catches my eye, and he smirks. I thought he was more forgiving of Stella’s lack of sophistication after finding out the details of her background, but apparently it softened him by only a scant degree.

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