finest moment, a regret that I had to relive daily. I hated that he was my first, that he had something no one else would. But it was done, and in all honesty, I barely remembered it.
But what I did was my choice. My mistake. Caden had no right to judge or condemn me for it.
“When?” he croaked.
“Does it matter? It was a long time ago.” I slammed back a huge gulp of my drink, my eyes watering as it scorched down my throat.
“Brex.”
“It’s none of your business. And why do you care? Aren’t you fucking Lilla?” I glowered at him. “You aren’t my boyfriend. You have no say in what I do. Or who I do.”
He flinched, bowing his head. Then his lips spoke words so low I barely captured them. “What if I wanted to be?”
Like I had taken a punch to the ribs, fear halted my breath—fear I was mistaking the meaning of his words. Heard them wrong. Twisting to him, my chest puffed with tension as his gaze landed heavily on me. With want. Desire.
“Want to be what?” I whispered.
His gaze rolled over my body as he leaned in. “Want to be—”
“There you two are.” Istvan’s deep voice sliced through our bubble, jerking both of us toward him.
His stern expression showed nothing, but his steel eyes went back and forth between us, assessing us like a predator. Also dressed in a tux, Istvan looked every bit the ruler he was. Handsome, charismatic, ruthless, and arrogant.
“I expect you two to mingle and greet our guests, not hang out with each other as you do every day.” He spoke to us but continued nodding and shaking hands with admirers passing by who wanted to speak with the infamous leader. “I want you both to join me in welcoming Prime Minister Lazar.”
I straightened to my full five-feet-seven height, my stomach already twisting at the thought of conversing with strangers. I learned to be good at it, but I hated it. Since becoming Istvan’s ward, he expected me to play the part as a real daughter would. Using both Caden and me like chess pieces, he strategically moved us around the room.
“These are very important people. I need you on your best behavior.”
“Then I probably should stay here.” My hand went to my stomach, where the whiskey and champagne now clashed.
Istvan’s gaze slid to me. “I believe I said both of you.”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded. The man could make a monster cower with that look.
Istvan took a breath and strode away.
My focus fell on Caden, longing for him to finish what he was going to say.
“Caden…”
“Not now, Brex.” He shook his head.
Pinching my lips, I exhaled. This night already felt too long.
“After you.” Caden motioned for me to go first.
All I wanted was to be alone with Caden. What was he going to say before his father cut him off? Did he want to be my boyfriend? Was he finally admitting there was something there?
Later, Brex, I chided myself. Just get through this damn night.
Drinking down the rest of my liquid courage, I rolled my shoulders back and followed Istvan, trying to shove away the gnawing urge to walk straight out the door.
Chapter 5
“Prime Minister Lazar, sorry to keep you waiting.” Istvan dipped his head slightly to the man standing across from Rebeka, who was joined by his family. Alexandru Lazar was in his fifties, short, with an average build. His dark hair was short, silvering, and styled perfectly. He had dark brown eyes, a long narrow nose, and thin lips. His dress uniform, also laden in medals, flaunted his power. “You remember our son, Caden. And our ward, General Benet Kovacs’s daughter, Brexley.”
“I do, General Markos,” he replied with a thick accent, slanting his head at Caden. “It is good to see you again, Caden.”
“You too, sir.” Caden shook his hand, their exchange formal and stiff.
“Brexley.” Lazar took my hand, his thin wet lips brushing over my knuckles. Peering up at me, his eyes lingered over my body. “Exquisite as always. Truly a work of art. You become even more bewitching every time I see you.”
It was no secret he loved women and thought taking lovers was a man’s right. He had made it clear since I turned fifteen that he wanted me to be one of those women.
“Prime Minister.” I curtsied with a smile, tugging my hand away, rubbing it inconspicuously in the folds of my dress. I had learned how to school my face into a pleasant