Page 38 of Ruthless Commander

Page List

Font Size:

Xael

“He’s not here,” Finley muttered, drawing my gaze.

“What?” I flinched, wrenching my focus to those commanding brown eyes as the smug bastard just smirked.

“Your new...fuck buddy.He’s not here, right?” Fin leaned forward, that stare pinning me to the spot.

The music crowded in, drawing me back to the party. I licked my lips and shifted from one foot to the other, lifting my glass to my lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Salvatore.”

“Sure you don’t,” he agreed slyly, and turned that glare toward the rest of the room, narrowing in on the host himself.

Bruno Bernardi laughed and cast another handful of chips across the table, then lifted his gaze to mine and winked. He was a cocky bastard, flashy with his money, especially when it came to his current opponent, Vad Kardinov. They had some kind of hate/love bromance, one I didn’t understand…I doubted anyone did.

“Shit, don’t tell me it’s Kardinov,” Fin growled. “That guy is a—”

“No, it’s not Kardinov,” I snapped, my gaze moving to the guy sitting across from Bernardi, dressed in fucking Armani and reeking of sanctimonious self-importance. The guy was a prick of the highest caliber. And…unhinged.

I’d heard some of the stories about him and Helene Kilpatrick, heard how she not only had to take out a restraining order on the asshole, but she'd paid a couple of men to pay him a visit and warn him away from her. I also heard how they'd found those men beaten within an inch of their lives and they'd had to spend two weeks in the hospital. It didn’t stop him from going after her...that man was obsessive when it came to her.

So Helene went underground, and didn’t surface…not until Fin’s mom’s funeral.

As if he'd read my thoughts, Vad glanced my way. I didn’t look away, just held that glare with my own until his lips curled in a chilling smile.

“Thank fuck,” Finley sighed. “That guy’s an asshole.”

“That he is,” I agreed, still holding his stare as he laid his hand of cards onto the table, then reached for the pile of chips stacked to the side.

I looked away, giving Salvatore my full attention. “Anyway, you can’t expect me to just stand here waiting for the day you finally notice me, Finley Salvatore, and bang my brains out.”

He was taking a swallow of his Scotch, and choked and spluttered, almost dying before he jerked that watery stare my way. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding, Davies.”

“Of course I’m fucking kidding,” I laughed, amused by the horrified look on his face. “It’d be like banging my goddamn brother, and just the thought of that turns my stomach.”

“Thank God for that.” He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth as movement from the doorway caught my eye.

“Speaking of banging,” I murmured, watching shy Anna Shaw scan the room and fix her gaze on Finley.

The electricity between them was undeniable. Finley, the poor sap, was badly smitten, holding her in his broody damn gaze. One that made me feel jealous as hell.

“Go after her, you idiot.” I took a step and gently shoved him forward with my shoulder. “Go.”

He took a step forward, not even giving me a glance. That’s how it should be, right? Total infatuation. I lifted my glass and drained the contents. Yeah…that’s how it should be.

In a blinding second, the excitement lost its shine.

I drank, and the more I drank, the less I felt.

That’s what I really wanted…to not feel.

Rhys blurred, standing in the corner of the room. I waved him off, but my words slurred when they came. “Go…go, I don’t need you.”

“How about we get you back to the apartment,” he offered, suddenly at my side.

“No.” I shook my head and reached for the glass again.

“Xael,” my bodyguard protested, and grabbed my arm as I stumbled.

“He’s dead.” The words slipped free as I lifted my gaze. “Marcus is dead.”