Page 16 of Inside the Wicked

When the song finishes and the room floods with applause, Silas leans in to whisper something to a man by his other side, who sets off. He finally gives me his full attention, leaning sideways on the balcony, facing me. His dark eyes trail over me from head to toe, and I try not to stiffen with the blatant assessment.

“What doyousee, Silas?”

He’s finding entertainment in me, but I have a feeling it’s not in what I’m trying to achieve.

“I see a woman trying so hard to hide a broken heart under a steel guise. You could fuck any man you desired, that’s not why you’re here. So tell me: Lanshall or Forthson?”

My heart tumbles out of my fucking ass.

I don’t know how to respond, and Silas goes back to sitting, leaving me there like a dear in fucking headlights, but I keep my expression cool as I join him again.

“Neither,” I say. “And both.”

That sparks his intrigue.

“And which does Kenna Radley belong to?”

I don’t react, but my mind is spinning. It was futile from the beginning to believe someone like Silas Balenheizer wouldn’t beone step ahead. Or perhaps Alistair knew it was a possibility and still expects me to convince him tofallfor me.

When I don’t answer, Silas reclines in his smugness.

“Neither.” Kenna’s tone is cold as it creeps up behind me.

She’s escorted by the man Silas spoke to after her dance.

“And both?” Silas adds.

“No.”

The way he looks at her is how I’d picture someone appreciating fine art. He savors her—it’s clear in every lingering impression of his eyes over her body.

Kenna drags her flat look from him to pin me with the accusation I meet sheepishly.

“I didn’t say anything,” I defend.

“I’m going to wager Lanshall,” Silas says. “I heard he acquired a rather high-profile alliance. Though I’ll admit, it was quite the surprise to conclude it was the president’s daughter.” He lights another cigarette, and again I study how it seems to untangle his thoughts. “Sit, Miss Radley,” he invites.

She doesn’t, and that only earns the most genuinely thrilled smile I’ve seen on him.

Silas goes on. “After the death of Everett Lanshall, his uncle recruits his sad, lost girlfriend. But what reason does she have to walk into the underworld now? To be used for this? To gain my alliance, but how—?” He pauses and his head cants, eyes on me as he seems to conclude it too easily. He gives a short, deep chuckle. “I’m more interested in your friend, Anastasia. No offense.”

I’m taken aback but admittedly relieved.

“None taken,” I say.

“Speak for yourself,” Kenna cuts in, low and cold. “We’re not friends. And I’m not interested inyou, rich boy.”

His eyes spark on her as he takes a drag of his cigarette. “Money isn’t an insult, sweetheart.” He blows out the smoke and sets it down. “But I will fuck the word ‘boy’out of you.”

“A woman has never told you no before, have they?”

“Oh, they have. It’s just never stopped me.”

I tense, and Kenna’s eyes heat and narrow on Silas.

“You ever touch me, it’ll be the last thing you feel at all.”

Silas grins, and I wonder what’s the truth and what he’s saying just to provoke Kenna from the wild thrill in his stare. “When I touch you, you’ll be begging me not to stop. And no other man ever will touch you again, or their hands will arrive in a pretty package on your doorstep. I don’t share.”

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