Page 115 of Guarded

I grab another glass of champagne from a passing server. Preston is hosting our engagement party at his home, which I will move into after the wedding. The guests include high-profile politicians, international Drug dealers disguised as businessmen, and the occasional familiar face from the entertainment world.

I keep quiet and eavesdrop on conversations, mostly meaningless small talk, but others are whispered deals. I have attended enough of these parties to know there is a shared understanding of the power dynamics at play.

The party seems to pivot slightly to a more relaxed, hedonistic vibe as the night drags on. Everyone was either drunk or high at this point, myself included. The music becomes more intoxicating, the drinks flow more freely, and the laughter grows louder. And I do as Lord Fuck Face requests. Stand there and look pretty.

Nothing more than a hello here and a nice to meet you there. Tonight is my introduction to his world. While many faces are familiar, I miss my family’s strong presence. I’m about four flutes of champagne in when I recognize one of the black-clad servers walking towards me.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I say the sarcasm rolling off easily with the heightening amount of alcohol in my system.

Alma’s eyes soften as she lowers the tray with some type of stuffed mushroom. Eww. I hate mushrooms.

“Ya, I’ll pass,” I say, shooing her away.

Jesus Christ, I wasn’t in this mansion long and already taking on the persona of a rich asshole.

“Ari, can we talk?” she asks, looking up the long staircase.

Reluctantly, I nod before remembering that my every move was followed by the broody man behind me.

“Hold on,” I tell Alma.

Taking a deep breath, I swallow the anxiety coming up.

Play it cool, Ari.

“Can you help me find my purse?” I ask Nero, and his eyes narrow on me.

He looks past me at Alma and nods his head. They’re the first words I’ve spoken to him all week. He doesn’t challenge me, though, not here.

“I’ll find it, Princess.” He smirks sarcastically.

I sneak up the stairs as soon as his back is to mine.

“Ugh, I’m getting so sick of him,” I say breathlessly when I get to the top of the stairs where Alma is waiting for me.

From Preston’s mini tour, I knew most rooms here were empty. Picking one randomly, I pull Alma in with me and lock the door behind us.

It’s the first time we’ve been alone in this proximity. Looking her over, I take in her flawless skin. I rarely see her with makeup now that I think about it. As a skincare junkie, I respect another skin slut when I see one.

“What did you need to talk to me about?” I ask point-blank.

“I wanted to apologize about the other day. In the bathroom.” She plays with her hands, and I take a deep breath.

“It’s fine. You’re not the first or the last person to not like me.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know enough about you to say whether or not I like you. But I was wrong to let Shawny influence my words. Thalia is my best friend, and I know she adores you. You could have told Thalia, and she’d have cut me off.” She explains.

“Thalia and I aren’t that close.”

“Are you kidding me?” her brows knit together. “She stormed into a room full of men once and looked Axel right in the facethe day after Lucia was returned. She threatened his life after he tried convincing your parents to take you back to California.”

Warmth expands through my chest at her words.

“Oh. I never knew that.” I say, a mixture of emotions flowing through me.

For too long, I’ve let toxic thoughts in my brain convince me of irrational fears. They convinced me I was a nuisance to Thalia and everyone around me. I guess I underestimated the powerprimidad.That’s probably not a word, but being a no-sabo kid meant I made up words frequently. Either way, cousin power was a real thing.

Alma gives me a lopsided smile.

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