Chapter 33 Episode 33

“You think he won’t show?” Yulian asks. “If he doesn’t, it would be a clear sign. To everybody here.” “He’ll show,” Anton says, all confidence as usual. “How can you be sure?” “Because I know the old man. He has no choice but to come. He’s toeing the line as usual. Trying to show up fashionably late to make a statement.” “What statement is that?” Yulian asks. I have a billion and one questions, but before I can keep eavesdropping, the men disperse without a word. The moment Lev and Yulian melt back into the crowd, a woman steps towards Anton. If I thought Queen Jasmine was beautiful, then this woman is on another level. She’s dressed in a scarlet red mini-dress with a low back and a scooped neckline that has her enviable cleavage on full display. Her hair is blonde. But unlike mine, it looks like it’s been crafted from waves of spun gold. It hangs down her back where her softly tanned skin disappears underneath the thin, crisscrossed straps of her dress. She’s in towering heels that make her already long legs even longer. I roll my eyes. Jhené. Of course she’d have a supermodel name that matched her supermodel face and her supermodel body. Also, not sure how this is relevant, but Anton seems to have a thing for girls whose names start with “J.” Weird fetish, but okay. “How are you?” he asks. “Great as always,” she says with a flirtatious little giggle. “Daddy didn’t want me coming tonight.” Something twists down my spine. It’s so wrong—the levity in his words. The way his hand flutters on her hip like he knows I’m watching. He isn’t talking to Jhené the way he talks to me, all backhanded jokes and threats. He’s going all suave and seductive. “He said tensions are high.” Anton nods. “Your father has always been perceptive.” “For the record, I don’t believe it,” she says, resting her palm on the lapel of his unbuttoned coat. “And off the record, she had it coming anyway.” Then she winks at Anton. The smile stays on his face, but he gently plucks the glass from her hand. “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink.” He places his hand on her waist and steers her around. I watch them walk away, and I realize they’re probably the most beautiful couple I’ve ever seen in my life. I wrinkle my nose and spin around—only to realize Lev is staring at me. He was watching me watch them. I immediately go beet-red, avert my gaze, and move quickly around the room. I turn to the side and do a double take when I see who spoke. A second later, I realize it’s not Anton I’m looking at. It’s his brother. And he’s looking at me like he wants something. God, I’m getting sick of this family. I spin away from him, giving Yulian my back. I don’t want him to think that I’m open to a conversation. Especially not here. My boss is occupied on the other side of the room, but I have a feeling Douglas has an eagle eye for this kind of unprofessional “fraternization.” “Expecting someone different?” Yulian whispers over my shoulder. “It’s the bane of my existence, you know,” he says. I shouldn’t engage, but curiosity gets the best of me. I look back at him. “What is?” I shake my head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about right now.” “Sure you do,” Yulian says. “You’ve been watching my brother all night.” I try to fight the blush that rises up on my cheeks, though I’m pretty sure it’s a losing effort. “I have not!” “No need to get defensive on me. Most women watch Anton. It’s just… hormones. Or pheromones, whatever. Animal instinct.” I roll my eyes. “I’m working.” “Are you?” he asks. “Looks more like you’re an undercover spy. And not a very good one at that.” “The only reason I’m even here is because of your damn brother.” He wags his finger in my face like a disappointed parent. “Actually, the only reason you’re here is because of you. You took something that doesn’t belong to you.” I laugh at him. “You’re going to give me a lecture about right and wrong?” I scoff. “Pretty sure murder ranks a little higher on the list than petty theft.” He just smirks at me as though nothing I say can affect him. “You’ve got more spirit than I gave you credit for.” “Oh God,” I groan. “I’m this close to throwing up in your face.” “Well, that would certainly make a party out of this nightmarish evening.” “What is even the point of tonight?” I snap. “Everyone here looks—” I snort like a pig. Very classy. “Don’t let appearances fool you,” he continues. “This room currently holds some of the richest and most powerful people in the whole city. Hell, the whole country.” “I haven’t heard of any of them.” “That’s because they’ve built their empires on hidden corpses and blood money. It doesn’t exactly earn you a spot in the papers. Unless you’re unlucky.” I frown, feeling a chill run down my spine. Is he trying to scare me? I study his face, but he’s looking around the room like he’s trying to give me a tour. “There’s been some turnover since the last shindig. Especially amongst the women,” he says. “They’re a lot younger now.” I wrinkle my nose. “You’re disgusting.” “Hey, I didn’t do it. I’m just telling you how it is.” “I don’t need you to tell me anything. I can see for myself.” My eyes flit automatically to Queen Jasmine. She’s standing between two older men, trying desperately not to look bored. “That’s Jasmine Reglan,” Yulian says, following my line of sight. “Daughter of Don Carlos,” Yulian tells me. “Married to William Carrington.” “She looks awful flirty for someone with a ring on her finger.” Yulian chuckles. “Poor bastard is probably at home in the doghouse,” he explains. “He’s her third attempt at marital bliss. A twenty-eight-year-old former playboy who gave up on his dreams of being an actor and traded it in for the pleasure of being a kept man. He’s new to the life.” “What life is that, exactly?” “The life of power and intrigue, deceit and mind games. It’s never easy on the ones that marry into it. Hell, it’s not easy on the ones who are born into it.” I glare up at him. “Are you trying to make me feel sorry for you, or are you trying to scare me?” He looks mildly amused by that. “Scare you? What, are you trying to marry into this life?” My face flushes warm, and I turn away from him. He caught me. I’m about to make an excuse and leave when I notice Anton again. He’s on the other side of the room with Jhené. I can see Anton’s face, but her back is to me. All I can see are layers of sun-swept golden hair. “She’s a knockout, isn’t she?” Yulian says. “Jhené Torino. Bratva princess.” “Princess? Is that a thing in the Bratva?” “Do all Bratva princesses look like that?” “Don’t be fooled. Not all that beauty is real.” He gives me a pointed smile. “Wanna spot what’s fake?” I survey her again, feeling a weird combination of girl crush meets simmering jealousy. “The boobs?” “No, actually, those are real,” he says. I frown. “And you would know because…?” He bows mockingly. “A gentleman never gropes and tells.” I roll my eyes. “Charming.” I feel a twinge of discomfort in the realization that I’m actively objectifying a woman right alongside a real pig of a man. But then I feel that twist of jealousy again and the petty part of me decides to keep playing along. s**t, I might be a bad person. “Bingo.” Yulian nods. “She used to look like Miss Piggy.” I shake my head and try to contain the rude laugh bubbling up. “The nose job was a birthday present a few years ago. Most people get cats when they turn sixteen, but…” He shrugs. “Wait, how old is she now?” I ask incredulously. “Twenty, twenty-one,” Yulian answers. “Something like that.” “Wow, I thought she was older.” “That’s kind of the point,” he says. “You have to grow up fast in this world. And you can’t show any flaws. Rumor has it she got the nose job done for my brother.” “For Anton?” I ask, glancing at Yulian to determine if he’s just pulling my leg or not. His expression is serious. “Why on earth would she do that?” “Love,” Yulian coos, dramatically batting his eyes. Then he sighs. “She’s been chasing after him since the second she turned legal. Even him getting married didn’t deter her. That’s the thing about Bratva princesses—they’re stubborn. They usually get what they want.” I watch her with Anton, noting the way she uses any excuse to touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind the attention at all. It makes me wonder what they’re talking about. What do the Bratva prince and the Bratva princess have to say to one another? “Well, he’s single now,” I point out. I meet his curious gaze and roll my eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?” “My brother seems inordinately fond of you.” “Fond?” I repeat, chortling. “That is not the word I would use. The whole time I’ve known him, he’s either been threatening me or trying to embarrass me.”