Page 26 of Vengeful Eyes
Torino’s post is in the hall outside the apartment when we’re at home. He has a small desk where he waits for me, always ready if I want to go out on my own. Today is the first time in however long that he won’t be needed, it appears.
“Jesus, Hope,” he curses as I open the door.
“Good morning. You wanted to see Benjamin.”
He looks torn, and I know why. The bruising will have only increased from last night. Covering this up for lunch will be a challenge. Him talking now? Telling Benjamin the truth? Christ knows what will happen then,to either of us.
“It… It can wait.”
“Cold feet?” I press, knowing exactly what he’s thinking about reporting. Asshole.
“No, but I’m sure I’ll be out of a job if he kills you.” Dead is possibly more correct, which is what I'm thinking I might do to him, too. “What did you tell him?”
“None of your business. Either speak to him or don’t.” I count to ten in my head, keeping my stare on Torino the entire time. He fidgets, clearly agitated, but doesn’t move from his post. Good. He's more sensible than I gave him credit for. Him reporting my behaviour can only end one way—with him dead and me with more of this on my face. “See you later. We’re going out to lunch.”
I shut the door and let out a breath. Torino is right. Benjamin has never pushed me this far before, and all of that after the simple transgression of me not obeying an order. When he finds out how deeply I'm about to betray him, I’m not so sure he’ll leave me alive.
* * *
“Will I do?” I strut out of the bedroom after spending two hours covering up my face and ensuring I’m as close as possible to the ‘perfect’ Benjamin always insists on.
“Mmm. Ready?” He cocks his arm, which is another unusual thing today, but I take it. He’s acting… different from normal. Maybe the whole library date thing went to his head? That or the psychotic episode from last night is still ongoing. I smile and nudge in closer to him, desperate to make sure he trusts me again. Whatever that was last night is not helpful to me.
In any way.
Luca is waiting for us in the car, a new aggressive frown on his brow. I try not to stare at him, or Benjamin, as he drives us to the restaurant situated close to the Cane’s hotel, but the atmosphere has changed since last night. They're both edgy, quiet, not that they're ever that talkative.
We arrive, and I see Quinn and Emily are already at the table that’s only set for four. “Are Nathan and Gabby not joining us?” I whisper to Benjamin.
“No. Just Quinn and Emily. Perfect opportunity for you.”
My stomach tightens as I approach the table, and I take a moment to find my game face. “Emily, Quinn,” I greet with as genuine a smile as I can manage.
The movement pulls at the split in my lip, and I hope the rouge lipstick will mask any further tearing. Emily’s face lights up, and I remember her comment about making friends. Quinn pauses playing with those dice of his and greets me with a light kiss to the cheek, making me hold my breath as he moves into my space. He catches my eye and our gazes lock, like at dinner the other night. It’s disconcerting, as if all the hatred, the blame, and the venom I’ve had to endure from my mother, bubble through my veins bringing heat to my cheeks. Of course, the smirk on Quinn’s face tells me he’s interpreted that as something completely different. No matter. It will serve me best to have him think I’m interested. That was the instruction from Benjamin after all.
We take our seats, and the waiter pours a glass of wine for us once Benjamin gives the okay.
“Quinn, do you know when you’re returning to Chicago? I thought it would be nice if I could get to know Emily a little better, spend some time with her.” I lean into him, making sure there’s a brush of contact.
“I think we’ll be in New York for a while longer.” His eyes remain raised and don’t travel to the low cut of my dress. Instead, he squints slightly, as if he’s scrutinizing me, but then drops away to look at Benjamin, all the while rolling those dice in his hand.
“Well, that’s good. Just means more time with you, Em,” I reply, looking at her.
Quinn’s eyes flash to mine as if I’ve just committed blasphemy. “Emily,” he pronounces. “Her name is Emily.”
I look at him, a little stunned, but don’t correct myself straight away. Quinn’s face takes on a quizzical look, giving me chills once again, and I snap out of our connection. “I’m sorry. Emily, of course.” My hand rests on his in a sign of friendly apology, and I keep it there for a fraction longer than necessary.
I can feel my skin heating as if my own is reacting to being in such close proximity to him. It’s a test of endurance to keep my hand still because the anger coursing through me makes me want to visibly shake.
“Are you okay, Hope? You look a little pale,” Emily asks.
I look at her, taking my hand from Quinn’s. It’s too much for me to contend with today. All of this is. After last night I feel drained and on edge. Sick even.
“Fine. I’m sorry. And I apologise for the slight on your name.” She smiles and scans me over, a look of comfort ingrained in her features. It annoys me. Both of them are annoying me. I can’t think straight. My head shakes as I try to compose myself. “Now, how about we take a look at the menu? I’ve heard nothing but rave reviews for the chef here.”
I hide behind the thankfully large menu and gather the composure I’m searching for, occasionally peeking at Benjamin. He's next to me but hasn't yet spoken a word. It's strange. He usually commands the flow of conversation over dinner, but he’s so quiet today. Different.
“Benjamin?” I ask softly. His eyes no longer hold the look from this morning, the softer sense of regret I thought I saw. They’re back to being as sharp as ever, and I just hope he can’t see everything beneath the face I'm portraying.
