Page 146 of Vengeful Princess

The black cab pulled away and merged into heavy traffic as I stood outside the brightly lit facade of the Ritz Hotel. People scurried past, wrapped up in thick winter coats, their faces pinched with cold.

The chill in the air was nothing compared to the chill in my heart. Torrance had issued me with a stark warning before I left the Airbnb.

“Do not fuck this up, Thea. Errors, deliberate or otherwise, have consequences.”

I felt the weight of what I needed to do sit heavy on my shoulders. Cassian Forsyth was somewhere in this hotel, having dinner with his father. The longer I procrastinated, the smaller the window of opportunity.

The outfit I wore ensured I wouldn’t stand out once inside the hotel, but if Cassian saw me, all bets were off. He’d want to know why I was in the same hotel as him. It wasn’t like I could tell him the truth. Not without revealing who I was.

A tall man in a camel coat brushed past me as I stood in the middle of the sidewalk. The irritated look he threw me for daring to block his path shook me out of my torpor. I clenched my fists and walked forward into the warm glow of the hotel’s entrance.

“Good evening, madam. Welcome to the Ritz.” A liveried porter smiled as he held the door open for me. I whispered my thanks and stepped inside.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head at the sheer opulence of the high ceilings, marble floors, and crystal chandeliers. It was like falling back through time to a different era.

Everywhere I looked, fresh flowers in large vases scented the air with a heavy floral fragrance while guests lounged on plush velvet sofas.

This was Cassian’s world, not mine. Landon’s, too. The pair of them would be comfortable here, surrounded by luxury and decadence, whereas I felt like an interloper. An outlander thrust somewhere she didn’t belong.

My heart thudded in my chest as I gazed around, searching for the elevators. The longer I stood here, the more out of place I felt. Sure, my dress was designer and the shoes on my feet probably cost a small fortune, but to the rich, entitled people in this hotel, I probably looked like a little girl playing dress-up in her mother’s closet.

If I had a mother, that is.

Torrance’s warning echoed through my head, cooling my chaotic thoughts.Get your head in the game, Thea.

An elderly woman with white hair walked past, a small dog wearing a sparkling collar clutched in her arms. The dog fixed its beady eyes on me and growled. The woman shushed it with a fewsoft words before her companion caught her up. He had to be at least 30 years younger than her. The charcoal suit he wore fitted him like a glove, showcasing muscles and broad shoulders.

When he caught me staring at him, he winked. “My aunt,” he whispered before checking me out. “It’s her birthday. I always bring her here. The old dear loves it.”

I blinked. Was he hitting on me? The guy was cute, but I felt nothing.

“Nice,” I replied, not sure what else to say, and aware I was wasting time. I looked away, trying to see where I needed to go. When I looked back, the cute guy had taken his aunt’s arm and was leading her toward the reception desk.

Oh. I probably should have asked him where the elevators were. After mentally kicking myself, I walked toward the rear of the lobby, not wishing to attract any more attention. A porter threw me a curious glance, so I pulled my phone from my clutch and pretended to answer a call.

I reached a long corridor adorned with fine art, intricate moldings, and plush carpet. I saw no sign of any elevators, but curiosity got the better of me, so instead of turning around, I carried on walking.

Music, laughter, and the ebb and flow of conversation caught my attention on the left. I paused, peering into an open, elegant space filled with potted palm trees. The decor reminded me of a picture I’d seen of the Palace of Versailles. It was stunning.

Soft jazz music drew me inside. Music had never been a part of my life. My father hated it. When I asked him why, he said it reminded him of his mother. I’d never met the woman - she died long before I was born - but guessed from his comment they didn’t have a warm relationship.

It was mostly an older crowd in here. Well-dressed women dripping in expensive jewelry sat with debonair men. I caught a few of the men looking at me with predatory eyes astheir companions twittered, but I ignored the sly glances and interested stares.

My hand gripped my clutch, a reminder of why I’d been sent here. There wasn’t time to admire the magnificent decor or order a cocktail. I had a job to do.

Just as I was about to leave, a soft Scottish burr caught my attention. If not for the way Landon’s seductive voice provoked such a visceral reaction, turning my insides to heated mush, I wouldn’t have spotted him.

A tall palm camouflaged him and his companion rather well. I assumed that was a deliberate move on his part, since she was a lot older than him. From the taut lines of her face, it was hard to tell exactly how old, but definitely old enough to be his mother.

I moved a little closer, wondering why he was with her. The woman was drunk. Her bottle blond hair looked brassy in the artificial light, her red lipstick jarringly obscene. On a much younger woman, the burgundy dress she wore might have passed as sexy. On her, it looked desperate.

From the way she leaned against Landon, their relationship looked more than platonic. So she wasn’t his aunt or sister, or some other female relative.

My pulse sped up, anger and hurt hitting me hard as the realization sank in. Everything he’d told me, all his earnest declarations we were meant to be together, meant nothing.

How could I have been so stupid?

Eden knew men way better than me. She’d been skeptical of his intentions all along. It was why she’d called him a fuckboy and tried to warn me about his terrible reputation.

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