Page 51 of Sworn to Revenge
“I won’t let you fall,” Pedro immediately reassures me, and Alin rolls her eyes in response.
“I’ll never get used to this dynamic between you two, but I’m glad it finally worked out,” she says, daring to glance between us now, while Pedro flashes her a smug smile.
She releases my arm and moves back to Luca’s side as we approach the front door. Her dress looks similar to mine but in shimmering turquoise color, with pearls scattered along the hem.
“Why didn’t I get pearls?” I raise an eyebrow at Anita, smiling mischievously.
She laughs immediately, placing a gentle hand on my back. “That’s becauseyouare the most beautiful pearl,” she says, and I roll my eyes playfully.
“You crazy people are smooth talkers,” I remark, and Cora can’t hold back her laughter.
“You have no idea.”
Oh, but I do.
I experienced it firsthand upstairs, just a few hours ago.
Bay
I’m already a few strong drinks in, and the pain in my feet is starting to dull as I feel a bit tipsy—but I can still think clearly. Well, mostly.
“I asked you to stop me from drinking, not to shove drinks in my hand!” I huff at Alin, side-eying her as a cocktail with a pink mermaid tail garnish is passed directly into my hand.
“This is the most boring event I’ve ever been to in my life, reminding me of our castle ceremonies. At least one of us can get drunk and have fun,” she taunts, settling into the bar stool next to me.
Projected onto the walls of the enormous event hall are videos of living coral reefs, colorful fish, swaying sea plants, and random bubbles that make no sense in the context of the ocean. The seating arrangements scattered throughout the space are designed to make the guests feel as if they’re living underwater. Or at least what humans think underwater life looks like—like optimism and glitter puked all over this place.
“Do humans really think everything’s this pink and sparkly under the sea?” I ask Alin, glancing back down at the pink drink with weird glitter swimming inside the alcoholic liquid.
Alin shrugs in a defeated sigh and sips her non-alcoholic drink, which looks way more appetizing than mine.
“I should give them a tour of Jocelyn’s cave,” I joke, bringing the straw to my lips and gulping down the glittery liquid.
Alin spits out her drink, choking as a wave of laughter overtakes her. I pull the straw from my mouth and chuckle. Jocelyn would definitely make an interesting addition to the scene here.
“So, what do my favorite models think? How’s the event?” Anita appears behind us, and we glance at her, Alin is still giggling. How do I tell her this is honestly the most boring event I’ve ever been to?
“A once-in-a-lifetime experience,” I answer. At least that’s not a lie. Alin turns away to bury her face in her glass, stifling the returning laughter. It seems my responses are entertaining her way too much today.
She lifts her eyes to meet Anita’s gaze and nods. It looks like Anita buys it. “I’m glad to hear that! I’ve already received a few requests for your dresses. How can I ever thank you?”
I give her an honest smile. Her dresses are definitely impressive and hard to miss. “Just wearing your designs is enough,” I reply, and she places a hand on my arm in gratitude.
“Alin, the men have a few things they want to go over with you. Something about training?” She turns her gaze to Alin, raising an eyebrow inquestion. “You’re training with them?”
Alin immediately straightens in her seat, the wave of laughter dying instantly as her expression turns serious. “I noticed a few gaps in their training before and offered to help,” she lies smoothly, and I recognize that look. What training is she talking about?
“Come on, I’ll take you to the offices. They’re waiting for you,” Anita responds, the curiosity clear in her voice.
Alin obeys and gracefully slides off the high bar stool with an elegance I can only dream of, especially in these ridiculous heels.
“I’ll be back soon,” she tells me, her look making it clear that she’ll explain later. Good, at least she doesn’t plan to keep any more secrets from me.
I turn my attention back to my drink, twirling the straw in my hand, when a male voice close to me snaps me out of my thoughts.
“I’m sure if you were up for auction at this fundraiser, they’d hit their targets in no time,” a young man with wavy blond hair delivers his terrible pickup line, and my face twists in disgust, struggling to hide my expression.
“That’s the best you’ve got?” I throw back at him dismissively, twirling the straw in my drink, clearly more interested in my pink glitters than his face.
