Page 60 of Goldflame

“Fuck off,” Julian tells Lorenzo.

Something flickers in Lorenzo’s eyes—not fear, but calculation, as if he’s filing this interaction away for future reference. He inclines his head slightly, a gesture that manages to seem both respectful and mocking.

“Of course.” Lorenzo steps back, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long before he retreats.

Up close, Julian’s deterioration is even more apparent. The skin beneath his eyes is paper-thin, mapped with tiny red vessels from lack of sleep or too much alcohol—probably both. I can smell whiskey on his breath, suggesting this isn’t his first drink of the evening.

A traitorous piece of my heart worries about him. For a fleeting moment, I want to reach out, to ask what’s wrong, to remind him that this isn’t who he is.

But then the burns beneath my dress throb and that impulse to comfort him withers and dies. This is who he is now. This is who he chose to become.

I look away, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me the hell alone.

“Like the dress?” he asks instead, his fingers tracing the beaded neckline where it curves along my collarbone.

The touch is too intimate. I angle away, careful to keep distance between his hand and the cigar burn only millimeters below the neckline. There’s no point showing him what his mother did—he probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. He’d say I inflicted it on myself for attention.

I really wish I could wake from this nightmare—this man who once knew every secret corner of my soul, whoheld me through heartache and laughed with me until we couldn’t breathe, is now someone I fear.

“I hate pink,” I say flatly. “Give me a different color next time at least.”

He scoffs, reaching for a nearby glass of whiskey and downing it with one quick motion. “Be thankful I let you out.”

The comment is so infuriating, so degrading, that I snap.

Dropping into a dramatic bow, I practically spit the words at him. “Forgive me, your highness. Oh, thank you for your kindness. You do treat your whores well and I was being rude. Please, how may I serve you?”

When I straighten, I’m met with venom in his eyes.

He grabs my hand so hard I’m surprised bones don’t break. “You want to be treated like a whore? Fine.”

I yelp as he drags me across the penthouse, my skin prickling under the weight of every stare and every mocking laugh.

Julian stops abruptly in front of a tan-skinned man with long dark hair. “Lucas,” Julian says coolly. “You said I owe you? Here. Have fun.”

I’m flung at Lucas, crashing into him as the breath leaves my body in a rush. Lucas grips my shoulders to steady me and we both stare at Julian—his back already turned to us as if dismissing something he’s tired of dealing with.

“You think this makes up for what you did?” Lucas growls, his hold on me tightening.

Julian doesn’t look back. “It’s enough for now. Take her to a room and get it over with.”

A breathless panic grips me. This is real. This is happening. Julian is giving me away like a piece of property, and the worst part is I can’t even pretend to be surprised.

Lucas’ fingers dig into my skin as he drags me toward the hallway. I glance around wildly, desperate for an escape or an ally, but every face in the room is indifferent. The walls are closing in around me, leaving no room for hope or defiance.

Gregory moves quickly across the floor to intercept Julian, his voice a low murmur at first. He casts a quick glance my way and gives me a flash of sympathy that doesn’t quite fit with the rest of this nightmare.

What’s his angle?

“Come on,” Lucas says.

We push through the crowd, and I catch a glimpse of Lady Harrow, her lips curved in a triumphant sneer. “Congratulations, Lucas,” she calls out. “You’re the first to get the Golden One. How fortunate—you get her before she’s too used up.”

Fury blinds me. I lunge at her with every intention of leaving a mark, but Lucas senses my movement and locks my arms in his iron grip.

“You’ll only make it worse,” he mutters, dragging me down the hall as I thrash against him.

We reach an empty guest room, and he shoves me inside with a final burst of force. The door slams shut behind him.

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