Page 63 of Claim

It took me a few seconds to wrap my mind around Lucian’s question.

There were jokes in some fashion circuits about Keith having his ass handed to him last week by an irritated boyfriend at a party. I’d blown it off and taken it as wishful thinking. Plus, the people who shared the gossip belonged to the group that Keith had embarrassed before fashion week, so they weren’t the most reliable sources.

Now, it made sense with everything going on and how Keith set everything up.

A shiver slid down my spine. “What did Damon do that caused this type of retaliation?”

“Something well deserved, I can assume.” Lucian shook his head. “However, because Pierce left the idiot breathing, you’re in this situation.”

I stared at my brother as if he’d lost his mind.

“Are you listening to yourself?”

“You know who and what we are, Sophia. This vigilante shit you attempted and failed at says you’re no better.”

“I didn’t fail at it.” I folded my arms across my body. “I got the job done.”

“Then called a man with a psychotic need to protect to come and pick you up.”

“How would you react if someone hurt Elaine?”

The way his face hardened, I almost regretted asking the question.

“You already know the answer to that question, so why ask?”

We grew quiet, and then Lucian asked, “Will you see him now that you know he went to protect your honor?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I won’t become Mom. I won’t take scraps as she does. I’d rather be alone than be her.”

“Sophia, you’re never going to be like her. You feel too damn much.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Damon

Leaning a forearm on a balcony railing, I surveyed the crowd gathered in the vestibule below me. They all waited for the hosts of the evening to make speeches and usher the guests into the space designated for the dining room.

Balls, parties, grand openings, and society events—they were all the same.

People pretended to enjoy each other’s company for various purposes, ranging from connections, deals, marriages, introductions, etc. Most of them were inauthentic. The press, politicians, and celebrities circulated among millionaires and billionaires in the guise of a charity or celebration.

Tonight’s being the dedication and grand opening of a building I’d designed and had an integral part in developing.

If not for my involvement in this project, I’d have stayed home, away from the chaos and her.

Fucking Sophia Morelli.

Surrounded by her parents and siblings, she stood out among their elegant style and appropriate attire.

Wearing some avant-garde art creation designed to accentuate all of her curves, she pushed the boundaries of what society deemed acceptable. The back of her gown displayed an intricate mix of sheer fabric, beading, and other textiles designed to construct the image of a dragon guarding his treasure of jewels—all black, of course.

She held herself in her usual “I don’t give a fuck” fashion, making her more alluring to any male who happened to garner a glance.

Maybe that was why Bryant Morelli couldn’t stop glaring at his daughter every time he glanced in her direction. But, from what I’d learned, he played happy family whenever in public, never giving any indication the Morellis were anything less than a united front.

With the ire he directed at Sophia, she’d done something to piss him off, more than likely in public.

And hence the reason, outside of business-related content, I’d avoided all other forms of social media or news for the last week or so. Any glimpse or information about Sophia would have pushed me to seek her out and break the vow I’d made to myself to stay away from her.

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