Page 7 of Mastered by Them
Caleb claps me on the shoulder. “Hey, congrats, man. Your fiancée is beautiful.”
“Yeah.” I don’t take my eyes from her. “She’s also smart and funny.”
Jack leers. “Sounds like you really like her. Even though she’s a dirty fucking Aseyev. Must be good pussy?—”
“Don’t. Finish. That. Thought.” Troy comes out of nowhere, his hand settling hard on Jack’s shoulder and steering him away. I watch as Troy’s other hand goes to his pocket—he slides his phone out, looks at the screen, then quickly puts it away. I wonder who’s calling or texting him, when everyone he knows or works with is here at the party.
Jack’s twin, James, widens his eyes. “Fuck, Edmund—the Aseyev bitch even charmed your bodyguard. That pussy has to be epic?—”
“Stop.” I keep myself from decking him, but just barely. “If you want to live through the next five seconds, you will shut your mouth, turn around, and walk into the house. There, you’ll make excuses for yourself and your asshole twin, and the two of you will leave the party.”
Caleb stares in shock.
James’s mouth gapes open like a trout’s and I have a sudden urge to shove him in the lake where he belongs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if I’m going to have to punch my cousin at my own engagement party.
He sneers, turns on his heel, and stomps away like a petulant manchild.
“The fuck?” Caleb inclines his head in James’s direction. “Since when did you stick up for an Aseyev over your own family?”
“Since my family started acting like a bunch of assholes.” I lean back against the side of the boat house.
“Huh.” Caleb sips from a tumbler.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I glance back toward the crowded lawn. Danica laughs at something her brother says, then glances in my direction. Her laughter fades.
Fuck. There’s a chance she’ll get on board with this. But it isn’t a big chance. Especially not with the daggers she glares at me from time to time.
“Just, she’s dancing circles around the whole family. Did you know she called your grandfather a ‘decrepit douchenozzle’ to his face, and he just laughed and pulled her in for a fucking hug?”
“She said what? He—hugged her?”
“Yep. And your dad shook her hand and said the Laytons need more attitude in their ranks. She pretended to scratch her nose and flipped him off.”
I don’t have any words. But I need to talk to that little angel. She has to tread carefully when she’s dancing in hell.
Caleb pulls his phone from his pocket and swears. “My mom won’t stop calling. She’s pissed she wasn’t invited.”
Of course she wasn’t invited—this is a family event, and my mother is here, walking around on my father’s arm like they don’t hate each other.
Caleb gives me an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I gotta take this or she’ll keep blowing up my phone.”
“Sure, go ahead.” I switch my focus back to Danica as Caleb takes off. She’s chatting with an older man I don’t recognize. Probably someone from the Aseyev side. I notice very few of the Laytons and Aseyevs intermingling. It’ll take a while for the families to build trust with each other.
That’s fine. I just need Danica’s trust.
I stride out of the shadows and approach her.
“Oh, here’s your young man now,” the white-haired man says.
“Uncle Aleksandr, this is Edmund Layton.” Danica frowns at me, but smiles at her uncle as she makes the introduction.
After a few minutes of pointless small talk about the weather, about the restaurant business, about nothing real, I touch Danica’s hand. “Can I steal you for a second?”
Her frown returns, but she says something to her uncle in Russian and follows me to the boat house. Once we’re in the shadows, I take a good look at my captive.
She shivers, so I shrug out of my suit jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. Instead of a thanks, I get a glare.
I step closer, backing her against the wall.
