Mai giggles like a schoolgirl.
Quyen shoots Nick a knowing look. "Are you sure you aren't single?"
"There's no ring," Mai says.
"It's not over until it's over," Quyen says.
"What about yours?" Jasmine laughs. She's happy. At peace. She finds Lucien's presence strange, but that's where it ends.
She doesn't know he's here to remind me I'm under his thumb. To make sure I know I'll never escape this curse.
Even if we marry, and the board votes for me, and I beat him in this battle, he'll win the war.
He always does.
I need a drink.
"My husband is getting older. He won't live forever," Quyen says. "I need a younger man. Who can keep up with me."
Jasmine laughs along with Mai and Nick. "Nick is too slow for you."
"Oh?" Quyen raises a brow.
Jasmine nods. "Always working. Or on his computer. The only thing he does for fun is—"
"His fiancée," Ian offers. He eyes me curiously. He knows something is wrong. He knows I'm playing this stupid game with Lucien. But not why. No one knows why. No one but my brother.
Jasmine blushes. "I was going to say poker. But yes—"
"That's good. I need a virile man," Quyen says. "My husband—"
"That's my uncle!" Jasmine's voice raises to a shriek. "Please don't."
Mai jumps in. "Your uncle was a very—"
"Oh my God." Jasmine hides behind her drink. Her third of the night. It's good she's loose.
It's good she doesn't see this.
But if her tongue is as loose as her smile—
I can't let that bastard know the lengths I've gone to. I can't let him have the satisfaction.
"How about we keep the toast to true love?" Jasmine asks. "To love. And finding it where you least expect it." Her eyes meet mine. They fill with all the affection in the world.
For a second, I forget the awful circumstances. The people around us. The restaurant downstairs. The ticking clock over my head.
For a second, I look into the eyes of the woman who loves me. Who I… maybe it's not love, but it's as close as I can get.
For a second, the world is beautiful.
Then that fucking bastard offers his congratulations. "To true love."
He holds up his drink. Bourbon. Neat. To fuck with me, no doubt.
"I miss Liv every day." He twists the knife in my chest. "She was an amazing woman. So much like you. She saw the beauty in everything. She was always trying to understand more. To find deeper meaning in a painting. To get to know a colleague. To see how someone else lived. She was always searching." He looks to me. "She didn't find everything. But, then, some things are better unfound."
I dig my fingers into my glass.