do is call a car service, drive back to the castle, and throw myself in Logan’s arms in victory.
But being strong isn’t just a one-time occurrence. Now comes the real test, going out and being strong in front of all those strangers out there.
Really, it doesn’t sound so scary anymore. Apart from a few people like the Ubelis, I couldn’t care less about the people out there. Who cares what they think of me? This is my life and it’s time to live the fuck out of it.
“Shall we go out and mingle with the guests?” I ask Adam. “If anyone asks the wedding date, we just tell them we’re going to wait awhile. We have a lot going on with our companies.” I offer Adam a smile. It costs me nothing to be nice.
For a second he says nothing. His head is bowed and face is in shadow, his hand still in his pocket. Playing with the ring?
Then he grabs a glass of champagne from the sidebar and steps close, flashing the charming smile paparazzi know and love.
“Of course,” he replies smoothly. “Champagne? I ordered the best. Might as well enjoy it.” Up close, his face is stunning, but his eyes are flat. His smile has no soul.
I sip the drink not because I want it, but because I want to make him feel better. He is a friend, especially to my father. Maybe I should’ve let him down more gently. “Adam, I—”
“We should get back,” he cuts me off, heading to the door. Fair enough. Before he gets there, it opens and a man in a suit walks in. He’s burly and has one of those clear earpieces, so he’s probably security.
“Sir, we have a visitor. An uninvited guest. He’s pushed his way inside and is demanding to speak with you.”
“I’m coming,” Adam promises. “Daphne?” He holds out his hand to me.
I ignore it and glide past him. The security guard and Adam both flank me as I stride through the foyer.
One more hour of glad-handing, and I’ll make my excuses and go. Considering travel time…that means probably one hour and twenty-five minutes until I can be back in Logan’s bed. I grin. I’ll count down the minutes. He’ll be so proud of me for tonight.
I grin, feeling lit up from the inside out. I’ll have to come up with some very creative ways to reward him for finally trusting me and—
“There he is, sir,” the security guard mutters to Adam as we enter the ballroom.
Ahead there’s a mountain of a man standing at the bar. He turns his dark head and light catches on his white mask.
No.
I stop dead on the marble floor and Adam bumps into me, making me stagger. But I don’t take my eyes off Logan.
Logan.
It’s definitely him, in a black tuxedo and a white mask.
The bartender and guests huddle away from him. Other than sidelong glances, they give him a wide berth. He stands with a glass swallowed in his fist, tension and menace emanating from his huge form, a second away from ripping off his tuxedo and attacking the room with a roar. As if he’s truly the Beast he calls himself.
The high I was riding crashes hard.
He promised. He said I could do this. I thought he’d let me handle this alone, make my own choices.
My hand flies to my chest because it hurts. It hurts. Like I fell out of a tree and all the air’s been knocked out of me.
Why, oh why couldn’t he trust me?
“Well, well, well,” Adam swaggers up to the bar. No, I want to scream. Can’t he see Logan’s unpredictable? Maybe even dangerous? “Love the mask. But you missed the memo. This is a private event. And you aren’t invited.”
Logan’s lip curls. He looms over Adam, stripping him down with a gaze. “You told me once I’d be your best man, Archer. Then again, that was before you stole my work and tried to kill me.”
I gasp and take a step back. Of course I’ve known for a while about Logan’s accusations and vendetta but the fact that he’s using this venue, this moment, to air his grievances and confront Adam, after all these years—
Around us, the party rolls on. The DJ is inviting people to dance. Some of Adam’s groupies have noticed the tense showdown though.
For the first time tonight, Adam Archer looks unsure. Then he brays a laugh. His sycophants chuckle nervously along with him. “Oh, this is too good. Logan Wulfe. Back