The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,294

Champagne?”

I was never allowed to order for myself. Bones took care of everything. “We’ll have two glasses of wine. Nothing from the Barsetti vineyards.” His voice turned cruel when he said that last part. “Red.”

“Yes, sir.” The servant disappeared behind the curtain and retrieved the drinks. He was back a moment later, pouring an Italian bottle for the two of us to share. “Anything else, sir?”

“No.” Bones waved him off with the brush of a hand.

The servant left without another word.

I grabbed the glass and took a drink, needing alcohol to steel my nerves. I had to figure out a way to slip out of there. If I could leave his side for just a moment, I might find a way to escape. But I couldn’t rush it. I had to be patient. “Why don’t you like the Barsetti vineyards?”

“Because it’s horse piss.” He threatened me with just his tone, recoiling at the subject. “Now shut up and drink your wine.”

I tried not to flinch at his hostility and kept my gaze down. I’d broached a subject he didn’t like to discuss, and I would lock that information away for another time.

It might be useful.

71

Crow

“The lights are off, and the curtain just opened.” Cane peeked through the small divider in the ceiling. “We’re good to go.”

I pulled the panel and slid it across the rest of the ventilation duct, opening a foot of space. We looked directly over the people in the audience, on the left-hand side of the stage. The opera singer’s loud voice echoed right in the passage, making our ears ring.

“She sounds like shit,” Cane said. “I don’t get opera.”

I liked it. If I didn’t hate people so much, I would go more often. “Shut up, and let’s do this.”

He pulled out the extender with the camera at the end. He dangled it outside the panel, over the crowd but flush to the ceiling so no one would notice.

I pulled out my phone and checked the screen, seeing the feed from the camera in real time. “More to the right.”

Cane hit the buttons on the extender, adjusting the camera.

“Zoom in.”

He focused the lens, capturing the balcony where Bones and his date sat.

“A little more to the right.”

He growled under his breath and made the adjustments. “It’s good, right?”

I changed the light settings on the screen so the picture was a better quality. When I got them both in the frame, I froze. I hadn’t seen Bones since that evening, and when I looked at him, I was reminded of the rage bottled deep inside me. I pictured how he pulled that pistol out of his jacket and shot Vanessa right in the back of the head.

My hands shook.

“It’s good?” Cane repeated.

My eyes shifted to the woman beside him. In a teal gown, handmade by a designer himself, it fit her slim body like it was made just for her. She had petite, rounded shoulders and arms that were thin but toned. She did some kind of activity in her spare time, archery or mountain climbing. The balcony enclosure hid most of her lower body from view.

My eyes moved to her thin neck. In the hollow of her throat was a huge diamond on a white gold necklace. It was too lavish and expensive to be something she’d bought herself. It was a gift. And Bones didn’t give gifts to his slaves—he took them.

I looked at her face, seeing blue eyes that lacked any interest in what she was looking at. Her mind was elsewhere, thinking about something in a different world. Her lips were ruby red from the lipstick she wore, and her eyes glowed from the makeup. Her hair was in lustrous curls, framing the contours of her expressive face. She was just as beautiful as people claimed.

But I still wasn’t impressed.

“Crow!”

“What?” I turned on him, annoyed with the outburst. “Shut the fuck up or someone will hear us.”

“Is the camera good or what? I’ve asked you twice now.”

“It’s fine. Here.” I handed my phone to him.

He held the extender with a single hand and my phone in the other. He whistled to himself just as he did last week.

I rolled my eyes.

“Damn, she’s fine.”

I looked down at the stage and saw the singer belt her tunes out, her chest expanding with every note she hit. The music was sad. I could understand every word she said, and the song echoed with pain of love and loss. I knew that feeling all too well.

“I’m going to