Page 32 of Summoned
The younger Deliberov lifts his glass with an affectedlanguor. His cheekbones are sharp, his posture is aloof, and he has the air of someone who believes the world owes him.
“Daniel has just returned from studying abroad,” his father says with pride. “He’s back to take his place in the company. Always had a knack for business, even as a kid. I have no doubt he’ll become a cornerstone of our legacy.”
My father chuckles lightly, seizing the opportunity. “Nicole is just as driven. She’s currently finishing her architecture degree, and already reviewing proposals for our upcoming projects.”
I offer a polished smile. “Oh, Dad. If you keep singing my praises like this, people will start falling asleep on their plates.”
He spreads his hands with mock innocence. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? I’ve only got one daughter.”
“There’s no shame in being proud,” the elder Deliberov interjects with a wide, approving grin. “Not when your children are this accomplished. It’s up to your generation now to support one another, and to protect the institutions we’ve worked so hard to build.”
The compliment lands with the weight of expectation. From the corner of my eye, I catch my mother’s shoulders lowering by a hair’s breadth, her painted lips softening into the ghost of a smile. I’ve passed the unspoken test. I’ve impressed the right people. That, to her, is the definition of success.
Daniel rolls his eyes, just shy of theatrical. His mother gives a short, nervous laugh, as if to smooth over his reaction. “Daniel, why don’t you take the young lady somewhere quieter and tell her about your time in London?”
Daniel takes another slow sip, then peruses me once more. “I doubt the young lady would be interested in such details.”
The disdain in his tone is obvious. It hits me hard, like a slap. I’m the shiny product being offered for sale. The irony twists inside my chest.
A fake smile spreads across my face. “On the contrary, I’d love to hear about it. But if you’d rather not share, I completely under—”
I trail off, my throat tightening at the sweet, bitter scent suffusing the air.
“May I have this dance, Baroness?” A voice interrupts from behind me.
I whirl around, my blood running cold. The Black Joker stands less than a foot away, his dark irises piercing into me with a sharpness that feels almost tangible.
The faint smile on his lips makes me swallow, but it’s his attire that unravels me. My gaze drifts over the black tunic, delicately embroidered and molded to his body. The neckline plunges, revealing a hint of a defined chest, with a leather belt cinching the tunic at the waist. His pants are sleek, catching the light with a satin sheen, tucked into boots with silver clasps.
He’s still holding his hand out. Despite the fact that my parents and their polished, powerful friends are right next to me.
I clear my throat and shake my head. “No, thank you.”
A slow smile curves across his mouth. “I’m afraid I don’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. This man is asking me to dance while my father is trying to marry me off to… Daniel.
God.
Or maybe—
A thought occurs to me: maybe they can’t see him. He’s a ghost, a specter only I can notice. Because he hauntsmealone.
“Excuse me, but who are you, sir?”
My stomach twists at Mr. Deliberov’s calm yet suspicious tone.
So much for hopinghewas invisible.
The Black Joker faces our host with aristocratic grace. “Just a guest. A humble admirer of dance. When I heard the orchestra, I couldn’t resist the temptation to join.”
The energy radiating from him crawls across my skin and raises the hairs on my neck. I’d bet the others feel it, too.
My father shoots me a sharp look before addressing the Black Joker. “I don’t think you’ve been introduced.”
My mother straightens in her seat. So do I. This isn’t going well.
The Joker bows slightly. “But of course. Gaetano.”
