Page 92 of Beautiful Venom
I crane my head, searching for the best corner where I can hide and carry on my observation.
“You look lonely.”
I startle at the sudden voice. Jeez, I didn’t even notice him approaching. Dark eyes stare—or glare?—at me through the openings in the black mask, and his massive physique blocks my vision.
“Jude?” I ask, unsure if I heard his voice correctly.
He reaches a hand out, and I step aside, feeling a destructive energy directed at me, but he just grabs a silver fork from the table behind me and twirls it. “Have you ever heard of being at the wrong place at the wrong time?”
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re in that situation right now.”
“I was invited by Kane.”
“And you trust him to keep you safe?”
My mouth opens and then closes.
I…do.
In a deep part of me I don’t recognize, I feel like he’d keep me safe. Perhaps it’s because he’s shielded me twice—at Drayton’s party and after I was drugged. And though he can be intense with me, I don’t believe he’d expose me to danger.
At least, not intentionally.
Ihope.
“You do,” Jude says when I remain silent. “You’re a lot more stupid than I thought.”
“Don’t insult me.”
“Then don’t put yourself in situations where you’re bound to be insulted.” He glares at me and I’m lost for words.
Why would Jude have this much hostility toward me? It’s almost as if he hates me. Though I noticed he treats everyone with the same energy, so perhaps it’s not only me, and he hates everyone.
A man wearing a black mask and a tailored suit wraps his arm around Jude. “Big man. Why are you wasting your time here? The show’s about to start.”
Preston.
“What show?” I ask.
He barely casts a glance in my direction. “None of your concern, Delilah.”
“It’s Dahlia.”
“Whatever it is, illegitimate Osborns and anyone related to them are not welcome here.” I can hear the permanent smirk in his voice.
“I’m not related to Marcus just because I went out with him for, like, two weeks. I’m a member, which is why I’m here.”
“On trial,” Jude says. “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”
“Here’s a secret.” Preston lowers his voice. “Ninety-five percent of Trial members get banished, and the five percent who get in are of our social standing.”
I swallow, staring between them as if they’re demons rearing their ugly heads.
“Aw.” Preston feigns sympathy. “You didn’t honestly think we pick up strays off the street, did you? We might indulge in some charity to feed you, provide a roof over your head, and keep you alive so you can oil the machine, but that’sall. The likes of you and that fucking thug Osborn are merely disposables. Your whole purpose is to serve as pawns on the chessboard that we can ditch atanypoint.”
I tighten my grip on the champagne flute. Though I knew what people like them thought of people like us, it still fills me with rage to hear it.
