Page 14 of Vicious Seduction

Everything inside me rebelled at the notion. I didn’t want it to be true, but I had to admit the theory had merit.

“It's time you left Lawrence alone,” she added for good measure, sensing she had my attention. The fact that he’d started dating me had to have eaten her alive. He was like the Grand Poobah of their little band of miscreants. Warning him away from me would have reflected poorly on her, and that wasn’t an option. Image was everything to my mother.

“I’ll do exactly as I damn well please,Eliza,” I said coolly.

Her eyes narrowed behind the dark lenses. “It doesn’t matter what name you use. It will never change the fact that I’m your mother, Carolina.” My given name on her lips was nails down a chalkboard to my ears.

“Maybe to you, but as far as I’m concerned, you surrendered that title eleven years ago, and you willneverget it back. We’re done here. You can leave.” I took out my phone and began to type out an inconsequential message to Jessa purely to be dismissive. I refused to storm away from my mother. A rebuff was much more satisfying, and doing it without the slightest tremor in my fingers was orgasmic.

Fuck.

Her.

Eliza huffed, scooted herself from the bench, and marched out of the restaurant. The sight of her tucking tail and running brought a smile to my face.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get over here quicker. Did she want to order anything?” The young server looked worriedly over her shoulder toward the exit.

“Not at all. She just popped in for a word.”

“Okay. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Actually, I think dessert is in order. Let’s do an Oreo shake.”

“Whipped cream on top?”

“Oh yeah. I’m fancy like that.”

The girl grinned wide at my cheesy reference to the Walker Hayes song lyrics. “Coming right up.”

While I waited, I sat back and considered what I planned to do about Oran. I didn’t want to screw things up with Lawrence on the off chance that he did have information, and I just hadn’t unearthed it yet. I knew his mansion had been involved at the very least. That was plenty of justification to keep him as my number one suspect. He had to know something. But if he wasn’t the only one with information, wouldn’t it make sense to broaden my search?

Sliding my hand into my purse, I pulled out the invitation still floating inside. The Bastion Club.

I entered the name into Google and scrolled through the resulting pictures and references. It was a social club, not totally unlike Olympus, but clearly not as secretive. It had a web page and an address listed. There were even pictures from inside—formal events and gaming tables.

The club appeared legitimate enough to be safe for a night. There would be plenty of people present. What did I have to lose? I had to start making progress soon, or I’d never learn the truth. Oran wanted me to give him a chance? I would, but not in the way he hoped.

The difference between Bastion and Olympus was like the difference between Prince William and Prince Harry. Both swam in money and power, but one was imprisoned by it, and the other saw it as a means for freedom.

Where Olympus was posh and stuffy, Bastion was warm and inviting. The gaming tables boasted the same extravagant antes. The decor was equally lavish, but the atmosphere in Bastion was ten times livelier. It made me uneasy to think about why anyone would seek out Olympus when they already had access to Bastion. His motives didn’t bode well, knowing what I did about Olympus.

The smiling faces and laughter helped ease my nerves, that and the fact that I hadn’t overdressed, which I’d been worried about. Despite what I’d told Cosmo, I did wear the halter dress—one of the perks of being the seamstress was using my own measurements for samples. I’d also stopped by a locally owned hat shop that sold handmade Derby hats and masquerade masks. I found an absolutely stunning mask with one side black and the other side an ornate butterfly’s wing in shades of iridescent blue. It represented how I felt—striking and bold yet still so fragile.

I had no idea what to expect when I arrived, but I wouldn’t let my insecurities show. I kept my shoulders back and chin high when I showed my invitation to the woman at the reception desk. From there, she directed me upstairs to the main club. The large room was already bustling with people, which was nice. No one noticed my arrival. The mask also helped, but I still went immediately to the bar. New social situations always seemed more manageable with a drink in hand. I didn’t think alcohol was wise tonight, considering I was alone in an unknown environment, but the contents of the drink were irrelevant. The glass itself was the important part. It served as an icebreaker and a shield—a sort of social talisman to aid in mingling.

“Soda water with a lime, please. And a straw.” The straw was important—that made it look like an alcoholic drink.

The bartender smiled and quickly threw together mydrink. As he slid it across the bar, two hands braced on either side of me, a warm body closing in at my back.

“You came.”Oran.

Had he seen me come in? I knew he would recognize me, but I hadn’t expected him to zero in on me quite so quickly.

“How did you know I was here?” I didn’t turn around. Instead, I sipped from my drink and pretended I didn’t feel a magnetic pull urging me to lean back and mold my body into his.

“I’ve done nothing but watch for you since we opened the doors.” He was smooth. I’d give him that.

I finally peered over my shoulder and turned, prompting him to give me a few inches of space. Not enough space, yet somehow too much.

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