Page 126 of Savannah Royals
“You realize you’re throwing me to the wolves out there. What, pray tell, am I supposed to do?”
“Oh, you’re a bright girl. I’m sure you’ll figure something out.” He backs away from me.
“We’re done, Paul,” I repeat. “For good.”
“We are,” he confirms. “I’ll let you have your happily ever after. Starting now.” He gives me a sanctimonious smile, looking at my bare neck.
“You better run,” I tell him. “The minute I walk out there, they’re going to lock this whole place down. I’m not feeling very generous to give you much time.”
“I’ll be gone before you even blink, doll. Remember, if I go down tonight, so do you. I’m always watching.”
“Don’t contact me again. Not until you’ve grown up, Peter Pan.”
“Don’t be bitter, little wolf. You know this is how it has to be.”
“No, Paul.” I tilt my chin to hold his gaze. “It really isn’t.”
He takes a final step back, half-hidden in the shadow of the dark hallway. “You know the rules. Fool me once, Katarina…”
“Nobody fools me,” I mutter, finishing the adage as he disappears.
Alone in the empty room, my heart flails and my mind races as I consider my options. I need to return to the ball. Matthew will be looking for me, among others. Hopefully not security, not yet. Without the rubies around my neck, the club will descend into chaos. I do want to give Paul time to get out; I’m not going down tonight. Hopefully, he isn’t stupid or egotistical enough to linger to see my next move…but he just might be. Which means I need to play this very carefully. And I’ll likely need Matthew’s help.
I make a decision. I lift my chin and walk back down the long corridor. The chatter of the party rises to a crescendo as I near the doors to the courtyard. Once outside, I make a beeline for Matthew. He’s not far, just over by the empty stage. Matthew’s eyes widen as soon as he sees me, and he excuses himself from his conversation.
“Katarina, what’s going on? Where’s the necklace?”
“Listen to me very carefully,” I murmur. “Paul is here, and I need your help.”
“Where’s the necklace, Kat?” he repeats, whispering. A few people stare already, noticing my bare neck. We both feel it. We have only minutes.
“We need a distraction,” I tell him. “I need you to trust me right now, in case Paul is still around. I promise you can trust me, but I need you to help me think of something.”
He hesitates for a moment, deliberating. Then he takes a deep breath and meets my gaze head-on.
“Take off your glove.”
“What?”
“The glove. On your left hand. Take it off.” He nods at my finger. “If you want me to trust you, I will. You want a distraction? Watch what happens when you pull that off. And when I do what I’m about to do.”
I swallow hard.
“I trust you. Do you trust me?” he challenges.
There’s nothing for it. I push all my chips in and pull off the glove.
Matthew smiles reassuringly, then climbs to the small stage behind us, where the band is still on break. He grabs the freestanding silver microphone and taps it twice, gathering the attention of the room.
“Good evening, everyone,” he says. His voice is smooth, like dripping hot butter over the microphone. “It’s an absolutely swell night to celebrate the Ides of March here on Jekyll Island, is it not?”
The crowd applauds obediently.
A wildly corked Ethan cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, “Maaattttt! Speech, speech!”
Onstage, Matthew chuckles. “Thanks for the introduction, Ethan. For anyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Matthew DaMolin. My family has been members of the club for years.” He gestures at Lady Genevievefrom across the way. “My mother throws the most legendary Hallows’ Eve parties this island has ever seen.”
The crowd hoots appreciatively, stomping their feet. I’m awestruck as I look around; the entire peerage rests, riveted, in the palm of Matthew’s very capable and charming hand. My stomach clenches with a tiny surge of pride.
