Roquel has to head home as soon as we make it back to Morpheus’ and as much as I don’t want to be alone in this fucking house, I’m relieved to at least be able to drop the mask. Her obvious envy at the dress I’d chosen and the ‘party’ she’d talked about constantly on our way back grated on my nerves and makes guilt prickle along my spine—especially since I’m using her as a buffer between me and the bodyguards. It’s obvious that Morpheus feels more comfortable when I’m with her. Maybe because if I seem to have a friend, he can lie to himself and pretend like all is well as if I’m not his prisoner.
NOLAN
Your presence is being requested to attend a charity masquerade held by the Troyan family.
This event is black-tie formal.
Masks required.
Location and details enclosed.
P.S. You’ll find the treasure you seek in Room 1196
The invitation might not be signed, but we know who arranged it. She did. I don’t know how she managed it, but it should come as no surprise that Juliet is more intelligent than any other woman I’ve ever known. Not only is there an event invitation for me, Gio, and Lex, but for Viks as well.
“Looks like we’re going suit shopping,” Gio says as he takes his from my hand.
“She’ll be there?” Lex’s voice is quieter than I’ve heard in a long time. He hasn’t talked much since the day we picked him up and told him that we’re going after the girl we should’ve never let go in the first place.
Viks steps up and I hand him his invitation. He turns it over and then shakes his head. “Your girl has friends in interesting places,” he says. It’s all the confirmation we need.
We needed an opportunity to get to her and she gave it to us—embossed in gold.
“It’s this weekend,” Gio comments, flipping his own card over and scanning the contents. “That’s fast.”
“I’d rather have her back sooner than later,” I say. But the quickness with which we need to plan this isn’t lost on me either. I glance at Viks. “Do you think we’ll need weapons?”
He shakes his head. “Not in this kind of crowd. Not the kind you’re used to, anyway.”
“Are you saying my charisma is a weapon?” Gio flashes a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Viks doesn’t answer him as he taps the edge of his invitation on the table between us. “You need to know how to work thiskind of crowd,” he tells us. “You need to dress right, walk right, talk right.”
I arch one brow. “How is that?”
The card drops from Viks’ hands and lands on the scratched surface of the table. He plants both hands on the old wood and leans in. “If you want to get in and out with your girl, then you need to stop hating those rich assholes that the three of you despise so much,” he says. “You want her? You need tobecomethose rich assholes and steal her right out from under their noses.”
Gritting my teeth, I set my invitation next to his. So do Gio and then Lex. I cross my arms over my chest and stare down at the man that’s about to become our bullshit upper echelon Miyagi. “Then show us how it’s done,” I say. “If you can.”
48
JULIET
The King Hotel is a structure of old-world beauty. With its long, pale columns and arching windows, it looks odd surrounded by skyscrapers and modern architecture. But that’s what the Troyan family is known for—bringing ancient color to otherwise dull, metal forests that are the American cities.
As the limo pulls up to the front of the steps which are lined in a thick red carpet with roped-off sides and security guards standing watch, ready at any moment to step in should the paparazzi get too excited, I catch my breath. My family might have been wealthy, but they were by no means Troyan wealthy. The paparazzi are less concerned with small-town multimillionaires who live quiet lives.
Paris’ world is vastly different, but it’s a good place to escape. With all of these eyes and expectations—I cast a look in Morpheus’ direction—I might just get away with my plans tonight.
“Shall we?” Morpheus holds out a hand and though I’d rather eat my own foot than willingly touch him, I remind myself that after tonight, I’ll be back where I really belong, and settle my fingers against his.
I’m helped out of the back of the limo and assaulted by flashing lights that nearly blind me. “Miss Donovan! Miss Donovan!” someone screams. “Do you have any comments on how your father is doing in prison? Miss Donovan!”
Well, there goes the idea that these fuckers wouldn’t know who I am. I grimace and ignore the shouted questions as I ascend the stairs towards the front of the building as the limo behind us pulls away to make room for the next car. Heart thudding in my ears, I try to extract my hand from Morpheus’ only for him to tighten his hold.
“Now, now, Pretty Girl,” Morpheus murmurs, taking my hand and hooking it onto the inside of his elbow. “Don’t run from me just yet. We’re not even inside.”
“Run?” I choke out the word. “As if you’d let that happen.”As if he could stop me when I actually do decide to run.
