Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
When he saw Cauldron, he finished his conversations and greeted him with a handshake. “Cauldron.” He indicated to the woman he clearly cherished. “You remember my wife, Melanie?”
Cauldron greeted her with a kiss on each cheek, the first woman he’d ever greeted that way. “Of course. Lovely, as always.” He gestured to me. “This is Camille.”
The man hardly looked at me and didn’t seem confused by the lack of label.
“How are things, Fender?”
His handsome smile stretched with a grin. “My wife is giving me a child.” His hand moved over her stomach, which was so flat it was hard to tell she was pregnant. His wife glowed, but he glowed too.
“Congratulations,” Cauldron said. “To both of you.” He raised his glass.
“Thank you,” Fender said with a nod. “How’s business?”
“Never better,” Cauldron answered. They talked extensively about work. Fender was a young man, but he claimed to have recently retired. He never elaborated on what he did before.
“Do you have anything new in the pipeline?” Fender asked.
“My team tells me they’ve found a very large diamond just this morning. We’re still investigating the clarity and carat size now,” Cauldron said.
Fender’s eyes narrowed, his interest piqued. “I’d like a first look.”
“Consider it done.”
My job was completed, apparently, so I left his side and found the restroom. I took my time, my feet aching in the heels and my interest nonexistent. The only good thing about the party was the food.
I looked at myself in the mirror after I washed my hands, seeing the way the diamonds around my throat sparkled in the low light. They really were beautiful. I didn’t need to do anything to enhance that. When my fingertips touched the stones, I felt the coldness despite the heat of my flesh.
I left the bathroom and returned to the party. My eyes were down on the floor initially because the sky-high heels were painful on the arches of my feet, and I almost ran into someone because of my distraction.
“Hello, darling.”
My blood turned cold as I looked up into the face that haunted my dreams. His obsession. His controlling nature. The way he kept my most valuable possession as leverage. My eyes shifted back and forth between his, the moment of panic paralyzing me completely.
“That dress is something else.” He looked down at me just the way Cauldron did, but his look was far more possessive. Cauldron just eye-fucked me. Grave consumed me without even touching me, branded me with his kiss so everyone would know he owned me. “Let’s go home so I can take it off.” His hand grabbed me by the elbow. To an outsider, it probably looked like an endearing touch, but to me, it was a lasso around my neck.
His touch was like a hot iron, and I reacted like I’d been burned. I twisted out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me.”
He smirked, not caring what anyone thought of our dispute. “You think I won’t throw you over my shoulder and march you out of here in front of everyone? Come on, darling. You came here hoping to see me, didn’t you?”
I stepped back.
He stepped forward.
“Get the fuck away from me.”
He moved forward again, undeterred by my rising voice. A slight smirk was on his handsome face, like he knew he was winning a game I’d never agreed to play.
Then Cauldron came out of nowhere. He didn’t throw a punch. Didn’t scream at Grave. His eyes locked on mine, and he extended his hand for me to take. That was it. No macho display of masculinity. It was quiet, but so loud at the same time.
Grave turned to regard him—and his blood went as cold as mine did. It was a look I’d never seen him wear before. The first time in my life I’d ever seen him look humble. That smirk was long gone, and a different expression I couldn’t describe had replaced it.
Cauldron kept his hand there, eyes locked on me, waiting for me to take the lifeline.
When my hand dropped into his, his fingers immediately closed around me like tentacles. He guided me back to the party, our hands locked together, and he grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter and handed it to me as if nothing had happened. He didn’t bolt for the door or call for the car. As if the interaction didn’t happen at all, he continued his night like there had been no interruption.
He didn’t say a word on the drive home. His eyes were focused out the window, watching the dark landscape turn into the bright lights of the city. His closed knuckles were propped against his chin, and sometimes he would rub his fingers along the bottom part of his jaw. He seemed to do that whenever he was deep in thought.
We’d been together for so long now that I picked up on his mannerisms.