Page 72 of You Don’t Kiss Your Brother's Best Friends

Victor’s scowl returned, but this time it was slightly less accusatory. “He’s missing.”

I shrugged, coyly. “Well I’m not surprised. He expended a lot of energy, if you know what I mean.”

The twisted smile I added was meant to sell my story, and assuage his fears. But Victor was smart.

“So you’re saying he’s sleeping…”

“As far as I know,” I sighed in mock exasperation. “Last I saw him, he was snoring like a lumberjack’s chainsaw.”

The temperature dropped again, sending a new ripple of goosebumps along my exposed arms. I shivered as I crossed them over my chest.

“Can we go back inside now?” I grumbled. “Or was there someoneelseyou’d like to pimp me out to?”

Victor squinted down at me, shifting uncomfortably. Those liquid black eyes that were so confident a minute ago now looked unsure.

“Here,” I snapped, pulling the towel from my waist and shoving it into his arms. “Youserve the drinks, and I’ll go to the mercenary meeting. Be sure to let Raif know, though. He’s not going to be thrilled, especially since—”

“Fine,” Victor barked loudly. “Go.”

I snapped the towel back from him and marched away, before he could change his mind. The others would already be looking for me. I needed to get back before the whole thing blew up prematurely.

The door of the ballroom swung open just as I reached it. I was slammed in the face with a food-scented wave of heat and noise.

“What the hell are you doing out there?” Bishop asked, ushering me back inside.

“Long story.”

As I stormed past him, I noticed his handsome face was painted with uncharacteristic levels of concern. His chef’s outfit was a complete mess, stained with a dozen different sauces and purées.

“There’s a problem, isn’t there?” I asked with dread.

Bishop nodded quickly, as I prepared myself for the worst.

“Alright, what is it this tim—”

“Raif’s gone.”

~ 43 ~

JOCELYN

The words didn’t register immediately, especially over the cacophony of thirsty voices. I had to pull Bishop away, to a corner near the bar.

“What you do mean Raif’s gone?”

“He’s just gone,” he repeated. “Nobody can find him. Not the staff, not the security teams, no one.”

My brow furrowed. “I’m sure he’s just checking on something,” I reasoned. “That asshole’s been running all over the manor ever since he got here.”

“Not without this.”

He held something up against his chest, shielding it from view from the rest of the room. When I saw it, I gasped.

“Histablet?”

“Yes,” Bishop confirmed. “There’s no way he’d go anywhere without this thing. He probably sleeps with it under his pillow.”

“I’m sure he does,” I nodded numbly. “Where’d you find it?”

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