Page 7 of A Devious Arrangement
His fingers tremble where they’re still folded into my fabric, but the reality of what’s happening is descending on him fast.
“It’s alright. I’ll let you off the hook this once. All you have to do is throw that punch you’re desperate to land.”
His grip loosens, and disappointment floods me as he releases me, and both of them step back, bowing again.
“Idiot.” Whistborn has his hand firmly on his son’s neck, practically shoving him to the ground until his head is bowed lower than his waist. He’s noticeably shaking, and I wouldn’t besurprised if he’s fighting back tears.Aww, is this the first time Daddy’s been mad at you?
“Our deepest apologies. My son hasn’t been himself lately… He’s nervous about college…he’s?—”
Disgust curdles my stomach, and the numbness takes over once again, any thrill washed away by their patheticness.
I sigh. “Leave.”
Shock registers over the man’s face. “T…thank you, sir.”
They scurry off into the crowd. The way Whistborn’s knuckles are white where they wrap around his son’s arm tells that he’s in for a terrible night.
I rub my palm over my face and fight back a groan. Where the hell is Xander? He’s supposed to save me from this bullshit. With just eleven months between our births, we’ve been inseparable. He could sense when I was about to do something stupid and decide if he wanted to stop me or join in. He’s been right by my side since the day I was born. That fucking bastard abandoned me for New York. So what if he’s the CEO of Windsor Industries? We’re supposed to be brothers.
“Stop playing with them.” Damon’s stern voice comes up from behind me.
“It’s just too fun. I can’t help it,” I lie easily.
It’s been years since anything exciting has happened around here, and I’m bored. I need someone to spark life back into me. Someone new. Someone who’s going to hold my attention. Someone addicting.
Damon sighs. “See any woman you like? Wouldn’t hurt you to find a good one and settle down.”
A laugh burst out of me. “What, like you and Matthias did? No, thank you. You’re both so whipped I’m surprised you still have your balls.”
Both the eldest Everette brothers have settled down into the perfect display of domestic bliss. The only saving grace is they provided me with five adorable nieces and nephews.
He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a cocky smile. “Jealous?”
I don’t respond, knowing he’s right. I’d love to have what they do, but it’s a one-in-a-million shot. Damon had known instantly that Misty was the one for him. Hadn’t left her alone for a single second until she agreed to be his. Matthias waited for Scarlet for a decade for her to be ready before stealing her away. They’d both been so sure and did some absolutely shady shit to get them.
Which just makes it all the more obvious that I haven’t found anything like that. I give the women who approach me respect, never crossing the line, but I’ve never been interested. Not in the way my brothers are. Can’t blame me for holding out after seeing what real love can be like.
Damon looks at me, his eyes softening. “One day, you’ll find her. Until then, stay out of trouble.”
I side-eye him. “I’ll try.”
“You could have gone with Xander.”
Spending hours in an office, going over paperwork while trying to revive a company we just bought, sounds like absolute torture. Xander laughed at me when he invited me to come, knowing full well he was inviting me into my form of living hell. I just didn’t realize how bored I’d be here without him.
“What? And miss all this fun?” My bored gaze roams over the familiar faces. I’ve spent most of my life with them, doing the same thing over and over again. It’s almost painful. I glance at my watch, relief washing over me. A few more minutes and I’ll have shown my face long enough to be considered polite, then I can get the hell out of here.
“I know that look,” Damon says.
He still acts like my big brother even though, at twenty-six, I’m a full-grown adult. Used to it, I flat out ignore him, looking blankly over the crowd.
A fiery cascade of red hair catches the warm light and glows as Anastasia Volkov gracefully floats through the hall.
Her years of training as a renowned ballerina are evident in every step she takes, her posture exuding poise and grace. A tight black gown tantalizingly follows the dip of her waist and hugs her hips before flaring out around her legs. She turns away, revealing the cutaway patterns in the fabric. Her soft, smooth skin is on full display. I swallow hard, and my hand opens and closes beside me as I fight the urge to run my fingers along her exposed spine. Her slap would hurt. Still, the pain would be worth it to feel her heat beneath my palm.
Anastasia has always been a society princess, a symbol of perfection when it comes to the Order. I’ve always seen her as an uptight ice queen myself. One who knows how to hide her emotions in order to fit in.
Basically, the opposite of me, where I’m known for getting into trouble, for causing chaos, and for doing things for my own amusement.
