Page 197 of Poison Aches
“No, seriously, who do you want to murder… Ooh. Why is Ivy here?”
I glance at the fucker standing next to me.
Most days, I’m pretty good at ignoring everyone and everything.
Hell, I could go as far as entertaining my friends’ bullshit when I’m in the mood, but today isn’t that day.
“What the fuck?” I mutter as Vaughn confidently reaches Angel and actually hugs her!
He fucking hugs her as if they are old friends when they literally just met last night.
“Ahh, is that the infamous ruthless Easton Family Consigliere?” George says with interest as he also stares at the trio.
“You say that as if you haven’t met him before.”
“It was a dark room.”
As if that would hinder this jerk from having detailed background info on every person of interest in this room and otherwise.
Vaughn’s presence tonight is not a surprise to me. In fact, I knew he'd be here.
I might not care for him, but after last night, things have changed.
The fact that he’s actively trying to get close to Angel tells me everything I need to know.
“Is he your rival?” George questions nonchalantly.
“Like hell,” I grit out, which makes George laugh.
“You should see the look on your face.”
I’ve never felt this kind of burning before.
It’s like my blood is on fire.
For some stupid reason that I don’t understand, my fists are clenched tight.
My jaw is locked and I’m grinding my damn teeth into fucking powder and my eyes are fixed on her as if they want to be glued to her.
What kind of reaction is this?
Is this a new side effect of my fucking blotched heart?
Looking away is the best option for the sake of all the witnesses here, because the longer I stare, the more the anger in me simmers, stirring that premonition of madness into an active eruption.
Too much skin.
She’s showing off way too much of that fucking silky soft skin in that backless number that looks like it’s been poured over her luscious, curvy body.
I look around, only to get even more pissed when I see almost several pairs of fucking leech eyes trained on her from all directions.
These animals are not even trying to hide the hunger and lust in their damn eyes as they look at her like she's a fucking snack.
“I’ll take that.”
The champagne flute in my hand is snatched away.
I look away from the danger and straight at the culprit.
