CHAPTER TWO
Baker Corporation was a vortex of perfectly placed flame candles, the dancing shadows creating intimacy, and vibrant men and women embellished in their finery, the ruffles of dresses swooshing with each step taken. Scarlet and gold were the new season’s trendy colors for women’s apparel, paired with dark navy tuxedos resting on powerful shoulders for the men. All reminded me of flamboyant peacocks in the wild, as their heads darted back and forth, searching and posturing for the corporate kings. I could have told the wealthy and distinguished that the monsters weren’t here yet, my eyes searching as much as theirs were.
Avoidance was my new plan for the evening, my parents already having done their polite rounds of bravado with their business associates—with me in tow. But to evade evil, one must know where the gloom was the deepest inside the lair of the wicked and unnatural. Beasts lurked in the dark. Those horrifying creatures were afraid of the light, their one weakness being caught in a spotlight not of their own making.
I stopped to stare at the ice sculpture in the middle of the room, absently refilling my glass with the champagne that ran down the ten foot tall sculpture. The chilling artwork was a tiger on the prowl, his icy fangs bared in a snarl at the guests, and his long claws extended as a warning. Brilliant light blazed from within the frozen carving, shining through the ice, and making it clear it was a brawny and lethal white tiger.
I lifted my glass to my lips, my right hand trembling around the flute during my small sip, unable to peer away from the painted blue eyes of the tiger.
Finn Baker. Of Baker Corporation.
The man who owned the business I stood in.
He was the white tiger.
I had witnessed his transformation myself.
Along with four other dominant men beside him.
I shuddered and fought the memory away, my feet leading me past the frightening centerpiece. Anything to keep from reliving that day when the world turned even more deadly. The afternoon my mother and I hovered high over a section of the forest outside New City, enjoying the scenic view with festive, old binoculars a kindly antique store owner sold us. Instead of innocent fun between mother and daughter, we had grown old and weary in a blink as we beheld an entirely new truth brought forth.
Truth wasn’t all. Sanity was.
Ours had cracked a little that day, only slowly piecing itself back together as time passed. Acceptance wouldn’t come soon, but it was our truth now.
Monsters were real.
My steps faltered when one of the monsters entered the room. The most powerful man in the entire world. The high king amongst the peasants. All greedy eyes instantly turned in his direction, the peacocks feasting on his arrival.
Mr. Godric King. Of King Corporation.
If only the greedy peacocks knew he was the lion.
They would flee from the hunger hidden beneath his beautiful golden eyes. His gorgeous exterior would shed, and the beast would feast on them.
I turned my gaze away from the fraud and walked on tiptoes so my heels didn’t clatter on the tiling, the nearest exit close by. The muscles in my thighs tensed as I swerved in and out of the elite of New City, some with swords attached to their backs fitted over tuxes and others with knives strapped to their biceps if their dresses hindered easy access. All blades worn tonight bore the tiger emblem etched into the steel, the weapons purchased from the Baker Corporation, a silent show of respect for the man whose party they currently attended, and the largest and most reputable weapons distributor in the world.
A monster with unlimited weapons…
All at Mr. Finn Baker’s fingertips. Or claws.
The possibilities for devastation were terrifying.
No one noticed my quiet slink from the elegant room, all the peacocks hurrying to catch Mr. King’s attention first. My father was one of them, dragging my reluctant mother with him. Her eyes were wide with terror, but I wasn’t worried for her immediate safety. She would do anything for her own survival, her will formidable against any person—or creature—who dared test her.
Her former thieving maid would attest to this—handless as she now was.
My shoulders sagged in liberation as the bright lighting cascaded down on the grand balcony. Even the carpet the color of fresh blood and the many sharp blades showcased on Baker Corporation’s walls couldn’t dampen my enjoyment of escaping the party. I milled through the few guests who were standing on the large landing. These were citizens of New City who were just like me. Each allowing themselves a small reprieve from the twisted dogmatic bolstering of the leading business executives.
I sipped from my glass and examined an oddity in profile, a man who stood at the marble railing. I had never seen him before, and certainly not at one of these parties. His gaze trained down on the atrium of Baker Corporation. But his interested regard below us didn’t hold my attention. His attire had my eyes dragging down his frame, captivated at the lack of decorum he exhibited dressed as he was.
The man was a few inches taller than I was, and a decade older, by immediate appearance. His bold silver hair was askew atop his head, sticking up at odd angles—but not unattractively so. And even though the evening weather was pleasant outside, he wore a silver, hooded fur coat over his broad shoulders, the hem of the material brushing the floor. Two impressive swords crossed over the fur, sheathed at his back, the handles erect on either side of his head.
His long, strong fingers gripped the balustrade as he leaned forward, his eyes sharpening as he caught sight of whatever he had been searching for. The plain white t-shirt he wore under his fur coat strained against his powerful chest as his muscles tensed, his black leather pants a far cry from the tuxedos the men behind him wore.
His feet were bare, no shoes covering his toes.
My eyes narrowed as I examined each foot.
No dirt smudged them despite walking barefoot.
Perhaps he had lost his shoes somewhere?
I lifted my glass and downed the rest of the alcohol, sighing as the warmth settled in my stomach. A glass table nearby held many empty glasses, so I added mine to the mess. The stranger didn’t peek in my direction as I strolled and settled directly next to him. My right hip rested against the railing as I faced him, my arms loose yet crossed against my chest.
A full ten seconds had passed before I admitted defeat, the man not taking notice of me even though I stood a mere foot from him. But instead of introducing myself, I turned my head and peered down into the atrium to examine what entranced him so.
I snorted as my blonde brows rose. “I believe she’s taken.”
Everyone knew this. Even those halfway across the world knew Ms. Poppy Carvene was dating Mr. Godric King. The social media on them was astonishing. Anytime they were out in public there were photos taken of them. Ms. Carvene’s father was the great General Carvene of the Liberated Army, while Mr. King was the owner of the Corporate Army. The LA was the only standing resistance against the CA—and Mr. King’s lawful dictates. The fact that Ms. Carvene and Mr. King were together was shocking, despite the obvious, that he was a monster.
I often wondered if she knew what she slept with.
The stranger’s chuckle was soft, his eyes never leaving his prey. “I’m not interested in that woman. Not in the way you just insinuated, anyway.”
“You could have fooled me.”
Still, he stared at her as she spoke with a CA guard.
He shrugged his right shoulder, the long fur covering his arm swaying with the movement. His response was shocking in its bluntness. “I prefer tall blondes with big boobs. Ms. Carvene has none of those three characteristics. She has nothing physically I’m interested in.”
My wide eyes glanced down at my cleavage, my large breasts tastefully filling out my black gown. I shook my head of pristine blonde hair, my tall height allowing me to watch everyone in this room if I wished.
The stranger wasn’t spotting his ‘ideal’ woman right now—directly beside him. Instead, he favored watching a woman he claimed to have no interest in.
An unbidden snicker escaped my lips.
He did grace me with his attention then. His eerie eyes sparkled with mirth as he only stared directly into my blue gaze, not glancing down at my cleavage on display. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, and stated, “You’re taken as well, so I have no interest in you either, despite your lovely attributes.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m not dating anyone.”
Who was this man?
Where had my sense gone? Or my manners?
I uncrossed my arms and raised my right hand. “My name is Mina Kramer. And you are?”
He claimed my hand with his own and lowered his head to place a gentle kiss on top of my wrist. When he straightened and released me, he answered, “My name is Cassander. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”