I felt bad. The look on her face was one I knew well, and I didn’t ever want to cause that kind of feeling in anyone. Especially someone who’d been so kind to me. “No,” I rushed to say. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. Sometimes when I play, it takes me a few moments to, ah, come back to reality.” I tried to explain. “I think you just startled me.”
“Henry says that sometimes too.” She nodded encouragingly.
Awe had me looking at the older man. “Really?”
He chuckled. “Of course. Sometimes playing is like an out-of-body experience.”
I nodded. “I’ve always been drawn to play. Even when I wasn’t supposed to.”
They both frowned. “Not supposed to?” Samantha asked.
“Oh. Uh. Well, my mother didn’t like the noise.”
Just the mention of her brought a sensation of something sinister… of eyes watching me that I couldn’t see.
“Your mother doesn’t like you playing the violin?” Henry asked, surprised.
My eyes flitted around, seeking out the cause of that feeling. Looking for someone who could be staring. “Well, ah…” I began to stutter.
“Where are you from? I don’t think Ethan ever mentioned.” Henry pressed again.
Their intense gazes, coupled with their invasive questions and the eerie feeling of someone stalking me from the shadows, was almost too much. The urge to make an excuse and rush off was so great that I opened my mouth to give some defense.
But a noticeable hush fell over the room.
I turned from the couple to focus on the wide staircase that gleamed under the glittering chandeliers. A woman descended the staircase, and the way people watched, you might think she was the queen of England.
Except she was younger.
And much more beautiful.
She wore a long gown in a saturated pink. The neckline plunged between her breasts, showing off skin that looked like she’d just stepped off the beach. The gown gathered at the waist and then fell in waterfalls of pink all the way down to brush the stairs. One shoulder had a large bow perched on the top, the other shoulder bare.
Her chestnut hair was pulled into some elaborate style at the base of her neck, and tendrils fell around her pretty face.
I couldn’t help but stare. She was easily the second-most beautiful woman in this entire room. Second, of course, to Ivory. Everyone watched her even as the conversations started up again. She smiled at everyone but not exactly at anyone. Her eyes moved swiftly around the room, searching for someone like I’d been searching for Ethan just minutes ago.
“Sienna really is quite beautiful,” Samantha said to her husband.
That name pierced my chest. “What did you say her name was?” I asked, not looking away.
“That’s Sienna Pope, the woman Ethan—” The second she said his name, my eyes cut to her. She stopped speaking, pressing her lips together.
Turning back, I watched Sienna step off the stairs, immediately welcomed by two people waiting for her. Ethan’s parents.
So this was the girl Ethan’s father wanted him to marry. This was the woman he flew all the way across the country because she was a suitable wife.
Oh my God, she is beautiful. Even more beautiful than I imagined. It hurt to look at her. Even now. Even knowing everything Ethan said, knowing he told his parents he would never date her.
How could he choose me over someone like her?
You’re nothing! The voice echoed in my head. Unlovable.
I jolted when a hand slid against my lower back, nearly dropping my violin and bow.
“Careful.” Ethan cautioned.
I spun, staring at him, wide-eyed.
Concern flickered briefly in his eyes as he looked into mine, but then he buried it to hold out a crystal glass filled with water. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I could get it on my own,” I said, slightly breathless.
“I wanted to,” he said, gently taking the violin from me to hand over the water. I took a small sip, eyes straying back to Sienna. She was laughing at something someone was saying, her teeth so white they were blinding.
“You were right, Ethan. This young man is incredibly talented,” Henry said.
“I heard a few people already saying they wanted to hire him,” Samantha added.
I could feel Ethan’s palm hover at the base of my spine, not touching me but almost.
Her dress was pink. Pink. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. Did she know pink was Ethan’s favorite color? Did she wear it for him to try and win him over?
She wore pink better than I ever would.
As if she could hear my inner thoughts, she glanced at me. I nearly peed my pants, but her eyes didn’t linger. They went to Ethan, where they stayed.
She leaned in, speaking to Ethan’s father. Adrian and Elizabeth Abbott both looked up.
The trio turned, heading in our direction.
46
Villain
* * *
Well, well, well, what do we have here?
Was fate at work? Was the universe trying to right the wrong that I committed?
Or was that boy just incredibly lucky?
What were the odds he would stumble into the very world he was snatched from? That Ethan Abbott, of all people, would take an interest in his miserable life?
I would laugh if I wasn’t so infuriated.
How dare this child? How dare he unravel twenty-two years of vengeance and sacrifice. At first, I suspected that perhaps the jail incident was just a favor because of that girl, Ivory White. Perhaps she asked Ethan to bail him out because of her connections with that vagrant Fletcher called a brother.
But as I spied and lurked, following that unsuspecting fool all around the Upper East Side, I learned it was far more. That somehow Fletcher caught the eye of the city’s richest man. How he came and went from the Abbott Group without care. No one batted an eye at his presence, as if they were already used to it.
Oh, how I laughed at first, realizing that the son Henry still placed on a pedestal was even worse than I could make him. Gay. Their long-lost precious heir was gay.
Not only that, but the most eligible bachelor in New York was too.
Oh, to see the faces of those uppity, snobbish fools when they learned that truth. The coup was almost too much to ignore.
I could blackmail them to keep quiet. I could sell the gossip to a magazine. Either way, it would be a big payday, and I could take my bounty and disappear. Fletcher and his father would never learn of his paternity.
No. This went beyond money. No money could offer the satisfaction of keeping an heir from his throne. Of making an arrogant king live in a barren kingdom. His suffering was worth more than money. I wanted that man to rue the day he betrayed me.
I wanted him to die while his pleas for forgiveness fell from his tongue.
And it was all about to be ruined!
Ill-contained fury tried to burst from my pores every second. My palms would bear permanent marks from my fingernails stabbing into the flesh. I’d seen that boy carrying around that case. The rage at just seeing it in his hand made me want to murder.
I told him never to play that violin!
My God, the time I’d caught him playing, I nearly killed him then and there. Flashbacks had come over me of what once was, of broken promises and lost love. The rage I’d flown into had been of epic proportions, and I thought he’d learned.
I should have known he hadn’t listened. I should have been harder on him as a boy.
If I had, I wouldn’t be standing here in this sickeningly upscale ballroom, watching him play as if he’d been playing for a lifetime.
God, he looked like his father when he played. The way his body bowed and moved to the music almost like he was the music and not merely the vessel who played it. My vision turned blurry, and my stomach heaved.
I had to flee for a while. The familiar burn of the vodka singeing my throat as I gulped w
as the only thing that kept me sane. Flashback after flashback from years ago rolled over me, and I dumped more vodka into my system.
The violin stopped, and I slinked back into the shadows of the ballroom. What I found brought me to my knees. Everything around me darkened. The glistening gold tones of the room turned ash gray. The thorns curled into my heart sank deeper, fresh blood dripping like a leaky faucet. The withered and tortured soul that was imprisoned within my shriveled heart turned to stone, then crumbled to dust.
It turned out that little piece of humanity still buried deep within me had made a difference. All these years, that tiny battered thing kept me human.
Humanity that was now swallowed whole by a wicked dragon who’d been lying in wait. Here I stood, flames of vodka emitting with my harsh breathing as I watched Henry and Samantha Cossgrove standing before their unknown child, fawning all over him, looking at him as if he’d hung the moon.
This was not supposed to happen.
NEVER SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!
Betrayed by the father… and now by the son.
With my humanity gone and pure, unfiltered hatred the only thing giving me life, my plan for the past twenty-two years no longer seemed enough. It was far too lenient.
They had taken my life.
An eye for an eye.
And so I would take theirs.
47
Ethan
* * *
“Ethan,” my mother crooned as she approached with my father and Sienna in tow. Why that woman stayed in New York even after I’d told her not to bother was beyond me.
Clearly, she was determined to try and win me over, but really, shouldn’t all of the ignored voice messages and calls have put her off? The fact that I went back on my word about showing her around the city didn’t seem to faze her at all.
Frankly, any respect I had for her went down several notches. Was she so eager for a wealthy match that she would forgo her own pride and proper treatment?
Obviously, because here she was clinging to my parents like they were indeed a happy family, and Fletcher was standing beside me, watching. The look on his face when I’d approached earlier now completely made sense.
“Mother,” I replied smoothly, leaning down to kiss her cheeks. How easy it was to put on the cloak of society. To slip into the role I’d lived in all these years. “You look stunning. Thank you for coming tonight.”
“As if we would miss it.” She preened.
“Father.” I acknowledged him. “I hope you find this event up to the Abbott Group standards.”
“Well done.” He allowed, sipping at his drink. “Well done indeed.”
“Ethan,” Sienna purred, clearly unhappy at not being acknowledged. Stepping forward, she curled her hand around my forearm, leaning her scantily clad chest against my side. “This hotel is absolutely stunning. And this ball! It puts all the ones I’ve attended in California to shame. I’m so honored to be here as your guest this evening.”
The audacity.
A sour taste coating my tongue, I cleared my throat so I didn’t choke and peeled her hand off my arm, stepping back so she was no longer touching me. “Well, the Abbott Group is honored to have you here as our guest,” I emphasized, politely letting her know she was no guest of mine.
Her glossy lips pursed just slightly, but I turned away, dismissing her. Sliding an arm around Fletcher’s back, I glanced down, shooting him a look, which he refused to meet.
“You remember Fletcher. He’s the headlining violinist this evening,” I told my parents, including Sienna in my sweeping gaze. I gazed at Fletcher gently, encouraging him to step forward.
“It’s nice to see everyone this evening. I hope you enjoy the music we will play.” His voice was stiff but polite.
“Of course we will. I’ve never heard a better violinist.” I praised him. Looking toward Henry, I grinned. “No offense to you, of course, Henry.”
Henry laughed jovially. “I might have accused you of being biased, but after hearing him play tonight, well, I understand.”
Fletcher laughed a little under his breath, and I smiled down at him, giving him a sly wink.
I could feel the ice from Sienna’s stare, but I refused to even acknowledge her.
Thankfully, my mother stepped in to steer the conversation. “It’s nice to see you, Fletcher. You play beautifully, and your suit looks like it was made just for you.”
“That’s because it was.” A new voice joined the group.
Everyone turned as Ivory slipped forward, Neo mere steps behind her.
“I had it made especially for him,” she said, gazing at Fletcher with pride.
“Pink is a rather bold choice for the tie,” Sienna offered, her words polite but the intentions anything but.
“Pink is my favorite color for a tie. I wear it all the time,” I said coldly.
Sienna laughed. The fake sound made my back teeth gnash. “Well, you are an exception to the rule, Ethan. You can wear pink. But other men…” She eyed Fletcher. “Pink wears them.”
I stiffened, at my limit of pretending she didn’t exist. Her cattiness astounded me, and I swung in her direction to tell her just that, but Fletcher’s hand tugged the hem of my jacket, quietly asking me not to say anything.
“Mr. and Mrs. Abbott, how lovely to see you.” Ivory drew all eyes to her. She was very good at playing the society game. In fact, I would wager she was the best. “It’s been too long.”
My parents greeted her warmly as they always did as Sienna stepped forward.
“Ivory White,” she said, already measuring up the woman in red. “Your reputation precedes you even all the way out in California.”
“Hello, Miss Pope. It’s lovely to meet you. I must say I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
“Well, with you off the market, Ethan needed someone of equal status to be on his arm.”
Fletcher stiffened, and I made a rude sound, ready to cut in.
“You are not nor will ever be on Ivory’s level,” Neo retorted.
There was a collective quiet gasp from the people standing with us, and truly, I’d never liked Neo more than right this moment.
“And who are you?” Sienna asked, turning her full gaze to him.
“This is the one who took me off the market, as you said.” Ivory’s voice was smooth.
“Charming,” Sienna murmured, tipping her glass of champagne to her lips.
“I should get back to playing,” Fletcher said, turning away from the group to go back toward the piano.
I left everyone behind to walk along with him. “Fletcher…”
“It’s fine, Ethan,” he said, his voice betraying him.
I caught his arm, and he stopped, eyes bouncing between mine.
“She’s very beautiful.”
“Maybe on the outside. But inside, she’s heinous.”
His smile was sad. “Your parents like her.”
I took a small step closer. “Remember I told you not to worry about them tonight.”
He nodded. “I’m going to use the restroom and then get back to playing. I’m supposed to be working.”
“Puppy…”
“I know you love me,” he whispered, cutting off whatever I might say.
Yes, he knew. But would he forget? His insecurities were not lost on me. They stemmed from many years of being told he wasn’t enough. I worried that his internal dialogue might be louder than mine.
Ignoring the room, I caressed his fingers with mine. “I do. So much.”
Emotion swam in his eyes. “Go back to your ball. I’ll see you in a little while.”
When he walked away, I still felt uneasy.
48
Fletcher
* * *
I found Marco in the crowd, his dramatic presence easy to locate. The moment I caught his eye, he excused himself from whoever he was talking to, and we moved together to the large hallway outside the ballroom.
“What’s that look, cupcake?” he asked, sippin
g his champagne.
“Did you bring the blue tie?”
His eyebrows rose. “Blue tie?”
As if he didn’t know. “You brought it, right? Is it in your jacket?”
Draining the rest of the champagne, he set the flute near a massive flower arrangement and dipped his hand into the interior of his white jacket. Seconds later, the familiar blue silk was in front of me.
Gripping the knot at my neck, I tugged, untying the perfectly entwined pink fabric.
Marco made a sound. “What’s gotten into you?”
“You were right. Blue looks better.” I huffed, peeling off the offending pink to crumple it in my fist.
“But you said pink—”
“I know what I said,” I snapped, turning up the collar on my dress shirt. “Can you help me?”
Looping the blue tie around my neck, he silently went about adjusting it.
I felt bad. I was mad at Sienna, the people in this place… and honestly, myself. Maybe even a little at Ethan. I wasn’t mad at Marco, but he was the one I took it out on.
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking up from under my lashes at the ebony-skinned man as he concentrated. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“It’s her, right?” he said, a knowing tone to his words.
“Who?”
His eyes rolled. “Sienna.” He flung out his hand with a dramatic flair. “Descending the stairs like she’s some kind of princess in a fairy tale, all dressed in your man’s favorite color.” He made a rude sound. “Acting like she be claiming him for her own.” His tongue clucked. “Someone should tell her that if she were in a fairy tale, she wouldn’t be the princess. She’d be the wicked stepsister.”
“She said that I wasn’t good enough to wear pink.”
The knot on the tie slid up so tight I nearly choked.
“Oh, cupcake, I’m sorry.” Marco fussed, loosening it. “My temper got the better of me. Of all the nerve! And look at you out here taking it off. Don’t let her win.”
“I’m not.” I confirmed. “But I refuse to wear the same color she is.”
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