“Do something about it, or I’ll make it my concern.”
Why did I even care? I didn’t know. I spent a lot of time resenting Rika and her influence over the guys that I didn’t really realize…she belonged. Maybe I kind of liked her.
“Michael? Everything okay?” Kai walked over, and I rolled my eyes so far back in my head I almost saw my brain.
Two peas in a pod.
I glanced over to Rika again, noticing by just the guy’s look and smile that he was flirting. And Michael had his back turned, fucking oblivious.
“You know,” I said, stepping forward into Michael’s space, “when the alpha in a pack gets old or sick—weak—the other dogs can sense it.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “And they stop backing down.”
He stepped up to me, too, both of us nose to nose, him gauging how far he wanted to take this at his own engagement party and me not giving a shit. My family had money and connections, too, and I was done vying for a place among them. I was stronger. While Will and Kai took a plea deal on their assault and battery charges, I never gave in. I was in prison longer, and I’d been alone enough. This was my fucking town, too, and if I had to tear everything down and rebuild it to make some of it mine, I would do it.
Kai stepped in as he always did, trying to diffuse the situation.
“Damon, if you’re not enjoying yourself, you can leave,” he said.
“Nonsense,” I taunted, taking in the string quartet, champagne, and servers with trays of shit-colored canapés. “I like your party. It’s so…tasteful.” I laughed, taking a sip of my drink. “I remember when you had an imagination.”
“And I remember when you had a prayer,” Michael shot back, inching in. “I have my own bank account, Damon, with my own money, credit cards, and an education. I have connections outside of my father, friends, respect, standing, a fucking credit score, and the door is open to me at any restaurant, bank, or country club I want to do business with in the world.” He grinned. “Tried to get into Hunter-Bailey lately?”
Prick. He’d had me banned from the men’s club two years ago.
“I can fuck my beautiful fiancée any time I want,” he went on, “and she looks really amazing dressed only in that quarter-of-a-million-dollar necklace around her neck right now. A necklace I bought without asking my daddy for the money.”
“And how about fun?” I retorted. “Are you having any of that without me?”
This was not the party it should’ve been. My sister didn’t get the party she should’ve had, either. God, they were pathetic. We would’ve laughed at this polite, bland, and pretentious snooze-fest back in the day, and then grabbed the girls and taken them for an all-night ride through our underworld. What a shitshow.
Kai looked at me, his dark eyes only a shade lighter than mine. “Banks loves you,” he said. “And we would never disinvite the Ashbys. Those are the only reasons you’re here. You burned down my dojo, you tried to kill us, and you’re not to be trusted around Rika. We’re not friends, so when we run into each other, we’ll keep it brief and civil for the women’s sake, but I’m not ready to pretend anything is okay.”
“Everything okay?” Arion popped up in front of us, asking.
I snorted, the little speech he thought would have me shaking in my boots ruined now.
The whole group arrived—Will and Alex, Margot, Arion and Winter, along with that little shit-stain Ethan Belmont. He was next on Crane’s list of duties.
But I guessed they had to invite everyone to get the pretentious part right. Rika was circulating now, and my sister was AWOL. I imagined these things made her as uncomfortable as me.
“Peachy,” Michael replied and then leaned over to Margot, kissing her on the cheek. “Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for inviting us,” she said and then joked. “Even if your mother made you.”
“Please.” He chuckled. “Rika and I run our own show now. The misfits stick together.”
She smiled at him, and I knew Michael’s mother and Winter’s mother were friendly, both of them probably finding common ground in their family drama.
He offered her an arm and led her off to the dance floor, Kai faded away, and Arion sidled up to me, taking a sip of my drink. I cast her a glance, able to appreciate how beautiful she actually was in her skin-tight gold dress, long golden hair, and every inch of visible skin glowing and soft.
But she was cold, shallow, and boring. Someday someone might be able to get inside her head and reach her, but it wouldn’t be me. I’d already been there with someone else and never again.
“Wanna dance?” I heard Ethan say.
I looked over to see Belmont with his arm around Winter, and I let my eyes fall down her body, noticing she had changed clothes. Her gown was gone, replaced with a thin, black fabric that draped over a black bodysuit—or leotard—with the gauze twisted into straps over her shoulders and fitted around her breasts. The sheer fabric draped past her ass, down her legs, and not quite to her ankles which were laced with matching black ballet slippers. No tights. Her bare legs were completely visible through the dress, which slit up the middle, giving her free rein to move.
“I was just about to,” she answered. “Rika and Michael asked me.”
Asked you? To dance?
“Sweet,” he replied.
But I cocked an eyebrow. “Why the hell would they do that?”
Was this Rika’s way of keeping an eye on Winter? Installing herself in her life again?
Winter’s chin lifted a hair and she set her jaw. “Because I’m good,” she stated.
“Well, this should be entertaining,” Arion mumbled with a smirk.
I didn’t know if I agreed. Winter would dance. For me. I didn’t like they’d gone behind my back to arrange this with her.
“Oh, Winter, this is Alex, by the way,” Will said and then eyed me. “My new best friend.”
My lips twitched with a smile. Touché.
Alex reached out with both hands, taking Winter’s and shaking it. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
“Alex goes to school with Rika in the city,” Will explained to Winter.
She nodded, and I chuckled to myself. Yeah, Will, that was how we knew her. Sure.
I lifted my drink to my mouth. “Is Alex for hire tonight?” I asked, gazing down her body, the caramel-colored gown perfectly accenting her deep brown hair.
Will turned his glare on me. “Fuck you.”
“I’m completely serious,” I maintained, turning to my wife. “Do you like her?”
I mean, she was all ready to bring another woman into our bed—or my bed—days ago, right? And this was Alex’s job. As an escort, she should appreciate the business.
Arion remained quiet, her eyes falling and looking uncomfortable. “Damon, it’s not the place.”
“Do you like her?” I pressed, gazing down into her eyes and threading my finger under her necklace, gently pulling her mouth up to mine. “I like her. Tits for days and big eyes. I’d love to see those big eyes on me when she fucks you.”
“Jesus,” I heard someone mumble.
Another person sighed their aggravation.
But Winter remained silent. I could feel her, though. She was all I felt. I wanted her to hate this. To feel hurt that her eyes would never be on anyone, and she would never be as enjoyable or as sexy as Alex or Arion, because they could taunt with a single look.
She was pathetic, and less, and without. Like I could’ve ever enjoyed you like a real woman. Is that what you thought, Winter?
Arion kept her eyes down, not wanting what she was willing to do in the privacy of our bedroom displayed in public and in front of others.
Her lips pursed, but she finally answered. “You’re in charge.”
I quirked a smile, hating that she was so pliable, but glad Winter heard that. I didn’t need her. I could get what I wanted from anyone. Let her sit on that in bed tonight.
Even if I didn’t want it from just anyone.
I dropped my hand, peering over at Alex. “Is it still full price if I just watch?” I teased. “And if we do like a punch card, can you blow me on the eighth visit?”