Page 80 of The Ring Thief
“I’m so glad you were able to make it tonight, Lily,” Lottie, the president of the Harbor of Hope Foundation, gives me a wide smile. “I wasn’t sure with everything that’s been going on, but I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” I say, returning her smile. It’s not quite the truth, because even before Declan asked me to come with him, I’d been hesitant about attending, but she doesn’t need to know that.
Lottie angles her head to the side, eyeing me. “Where’s your husband, then? I was surprised to find you on your own after the two of you made quite a stir, coming in together.” Her expression is innocently curious, but I’m wary. Lottie is at the top of the society food chain, meaning she’s got a finger on the pulse of everything that happens within the city limits.
“He’s with Abigail, taking a turn around the room,” I say.
“And your partner in crime? Where is she? I was actually hoping to catch up with Sasha tonight. I’ve found a new location for a community house, one where children in unsafe homes would be able to stay. I wanted to get her opinion on it before I put in a bid, as well as an idea of what kind of staff I’d need to have in place if I did acquire it.” She looks back at me. “She has such a great mind for these things, but I still can’t convince her to come work for me.”
“Come on, Lottie,” I chide playfully. “You know very well that Sasha doesn’t like these events. Plus, it’s not exactly the place to talk business, is it?” We both glance around now, taking in the glamorous ball gowns and fancy suits that mill around the room, sparkling jewelry adorning throats, wrists, and fingers, as they sip their expensive champagne, gossiping about their friend’s husband’s affair with the neighbor’s daughter or whatever.
It’s Sasha’s version of hell and not far off mine, especially knowing that my name—and Declan’s—will be a favorite topic for them all tonight. It’s a discomforting feeling, knowing that people are dissecting your life like they have a right to. The urge to flee from it all is a constant itch under my skin.
“I know,” Lottie sighs, turning back to me. “It’s a shame, though. She’d make these evenings a lot less dull.”
A quiet laugh bursts out of me. “I don’t think you’re supposed to call your own gala dull.”
She waves me off, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. “My galas are all fabulous.” She leans closer, lowering her voice to a whisper, eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” Something catches her attention behind me, and her smile widens, baring her teeth in a flash of pearly white. “But it’s about to get more interesting,” she murmurs. “Harpy incoming.”
I shoot her a bemused look before looking over my shoulder, immediately turning back to face her with wide eyes. “Did you just call Silvia Huntington a harpy, Lottie? The shame!”
She snorts indelicately. “If the shoe fits, dear. I’m old enough that I’m allowed to call these things as I see them.”
Before I can respond, someone clears their throat sharply behind me. I go still, sucking in a steadying breath, drawing it out and making her wait with relish. Lottie flicks an approving look at me, clearly understanding the power play going on here, and then I’m turning to face the harpy and her cronies.
Maddison Vale stands on her right, someone I’ve had very few interactions with, but on Silvia’s other side is Verity Petrosen, Lucas’ younger sister. In the middle of the trio, Silvia stands, leg cocked to the side to reveal an expanse of tanned thigh showing through the long slitin her glittery red dress. There have been many times that Silvia Huntington has intimidated me with her beauty, her closeness to Declan, and her acerbic tongue that always seemed to hit me where it hurt most.
Staring back at her now, watching the cruel smile play around her mouth, it just feels like she’s a little girl, playing at being a grownup.
Ignoring the fierce glare she’s shooting at me, I look to the side with a small frown. “Verity,” I murmur. “I’m assuming your presence here means your brother is lurking around somewhere.”
Verity’s eyes flash with uncertainty, but she lifts her nose in the air. “He is. So?”
My smile is small but kind. “I don’t think he’d be impressed finding you tangled up in”—a sidelong look at Silvia—“whatever this is.”
Silvia clucks her tongue. “Verity is a grown woman, and she certainly doesn’t need someone like you telling her what to do.”
“Someone like me,” I echo, noticing that several people around us have stopped talking, angling their bodies toward us, clearing sensing blood about to be spilled.Vultures.“No, you’re quite right. Verity can make her own choices.” I level a meaningful look on Verity, and she has the grace to look away, her cheeks reddening.
Turning back to the problem of the moment, I raise my eyebrows. “What can I do for you, Silvia? The last time we spoke you were screeching like a banshee on my doorstep, threatening me with blackmail.”
She startles, her eyes going wide, clearly not having expected me to call her out. She gathers her composure quickly, malice darkening her eyes. “Blackmail?” she asks, her laugh sounding like a knife being sharpened against a steel block. “I’m not sure what you mean, Lily.”
I just stare at her, waiting. She looks around at the crowd gathering, at her two minions, and then back at me, her confidence visibly building.
“I’m surprised you were brave enough to come tonight,” she says with mock pity. “You must’ve come with your father and his…date.” The way she sneers the last word tells me she already knows who Julie is to our family. My brows twitch with surprise that she doesn’t know I’m here with Declan, and I look to the side at Lottie, just in time to catch her shrug. Verity takes a subtle step back, but Silvia doesn’t notice, her narrowed eyes pinned on me.
“Why wouldn’t I be here?” I ask her. “I’ve supported Harbor of Hope for years. I wouldn’t stop now just because of some lies that have been running through the gossip channels.”
Silvia’s eyes flash with fury before she tamps it down. “Of course you’d call it all lies,” she says acidly. “Just like you lied about the man you were sleeping with while still married.” Her voice rises, playing up to her audience.
“Right,” I say. “So, I’m a cheater and…what else were you telling everyone? That I trapped Declan into marriage by faking a pregnancy? Interesting that I had to lie about that, considering we’d been together for a year.”
Silvia blanches at the way I’ve gone off her script. I imagine this encounter played out much differently in her head, probably with me running out of the ballroom, shamed and disgraced, and Declan—for reasons only Silvia would know—turning to her for comfort.
“So, how did you find out, Silvia?”
Her perfectly manicured brows dip together in a frown. “What?”
