Page 111 of Sardonic Burn

A waiter approaches us, but Noelle waves him off without sparing him a glance. He stares at her veiled face for a moment longer than necessary before going to the next person. Noelle seems to have calmed down, and it’s either a relief or a disaster waiting to happen.

“Hudson.” She turns to look at me. Her voice is cold, and it’s finally the woman I used to fear. It’s both disturbing and admirable how she can flip a switch and get herself in check. “You stay here. I need to check something.”

“That’s not happening.”

She tugs on the chain as a warning. “I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. I will go to check what I need to, and you will stay here.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hudson.” She takes a deep breath. “Don’t force me to stay here. I need to know.”

“Your safety is more important.”

“There are things more important than me, Hudson.”

“Not to me.”

“There should be.”

“But there won’t be.”

“This is pointless.” She sighs. “And there’s no time. The break will be over soon, and that’s when I’ll sneak out.”

“Sneak out? We’re in the first row,Giselle.You’ll be seen.”

“That’s what I want, so be patient and put a little faith in me.”

“Then do it now,” I say. “Don’t draw too much attention to yourself.”

“Lucas, have the teams ready.”

“Will do,” he says.

Slowly, Noelle stands from the chair and wraps the chain around my neck. She inhales deeply and tilts her head upward. “Keep your eyes and ears open. I’ll need it.”

I nod.

I’m not comfortable with this at all. I fucking despise her going around acting like a detective on her own. It has nothing to do with a lack of skills and more to do with the fact that I’m anxious. Losing Noelle is something I will never allow to happen.

She strolls away into the dark hall, her boots echoing on the concrete floor. It’s probably the only sound I hear, my heart beating furiously against my ribcage. The less I can see of her, the more concerned I grow.

I stand up and lean against the nearest wall, feeling a lot of eyes on me. There are two women in particular that stand out because they’re dressed like this is a 1920s-themed party. They seem to be in their fifties, with masks and a fan in their hands, hiding behind them.

“Don’t you think Giselle is acting weird?” the brunette woman says, loud enough for me to hear. She wants me to hear it. Her eyes squint when she doesn’t provoke a reaction out of me, and her friend chimes in.

“I’m surprised she left her pet all alone.”

“She did say she was looking for her forever toy, so I’m guessing she found it.”

I throw her a glare. She’s garnering more attention than I want, and more eyes fall on me.

“She sure picked a dangerous one,” the blonde woman mutters. “But isn’t it suspicious? She wasn’t seen for a few years but now shows up with a new, flashy toy? Something doesn’t add up here.”

“You’ve always had keen senses, my friend,” the brunette says with a chuckle. Both are very careful not to use their real names, but I have no doubt that they know each other on a personal level.

“Doesn’t he remind you of someone?” The blonde starts fanning. “I think I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

I turn on my heel and walk into the hallway, away from their curious gazes.

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