Laiken

Emma stands back, observing me in the mirror. “You look lovely.”

I stare at my reflection, and I think she's right, but not for the reason she assumes. I do feel lovely. It has nothing to do with the elaborate weaving of silver flowers through my layers of loose waves of hair. Ever since Dominic and I had sex, I've felt... like I was glowing.

“Do you like it?” she asks, squinting.

I fondle the long ends where they drape over my naked shoulders. “Yes, but I'm surprised you styled it this way.” I'm remembering how she tried to cut off these brunette strands years ago.

Emma shifts side to side, her gray apron looking like a silent bell ringing. “I'm not a monster, young lady. I just want to do my job. If Master Silas wants you making conversation on the ball room floor, then, well... I'll make sure everyone fights to talk to you.”

Startling, I smile up at her. “Thank you,” I say solemnly.

Bowing her head, she turns and leaves me alone. I gaze back in the mirror, toying with my hair, adjusting the bodice of my gold sequin dress. The party is starting soon. I know I should be downstairs, but once I start pacing, I can't stop.

Everything is good. Why do I feel uneasy? Traveling the room, I sit on my bed. My hands smooth the blankets, and as I do, a trickle of an epiphany comes. I'm freaking out because of how happy I feel. I shouldn't feel this great. My situation hasn't changed; I'm still a hostage. I'm still trying to keep myself afloat until I can find a way out of this mess.

Pretending to be a party-planner, letting myself be swept into Dominic's arms, it's all been a distraction. A wonderful one, but still... I can't let my guard down. Emma can act sweet, but she said it herself—her job is to work for Silas. He's going along with my plan now, but what if it fails? What if tonight bombs, and he lets Annie have her way with me?

I don't have a clue what she'll do when she's angry.

That's worse than knowing, in a way; the mystery of it.

Stop this, I warn myself. I glance in the mirror and stand taller. Prouder. You've got this. Save the moping for if the party fails. It could go great! The Bradleys might land a ton of big clients for their banks. Hell, maybe this will go so well, that they'll stop looking for my dad. What an idea that is.

Motivated by my new point of view, I adjust my dress one final time. On low heels, I trot out the door. And run straight into Dominic.

He's wearing a different jacket and shirt than the pair he ruined in the storm. The pale vest, though, is the one Mellie tailored for him. It's strapped tight over a new outfit that's ironed sharply, the lines uniform. He looks stunning. “There you are,” he says, his smile going sideways. He takes me in with clear appreciation. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks,” I say, playing with the draped, A-line hem. “You, too.” My eyes go past him, down the hall. “Are people showing up already?”

“Some, yes.”

“I'm sorry, I should have hurried there sooner.”

He shrugs, running a hand down his silver tie. I watch, completely hooked on his tiny movements. They make me think of how precisely he can touch my body. “My parents have it under control. Don't forget, this is their house. They're not going to pretend this event was your idea.”

I'm taken aback. “Oh.”

He offers his elbow. “Walk with me. We'll make a grand entrance.”

Lighting up with a grin, I wrap my arm around his thick bicep. It thrills me to be this close to him. He smells divine, and the walk to the ballroom goes too quickly. I could stroll down an endless hallway with this man.

We approach the double doors. Security is dotted around, and I realize that, for once, they're not watching out for me. They're checking their lists as people arrive, marking off names, and sometimes even peering into bags or coats. The Bradleys are rich and powerful, and I forgot they could have enemies. I'm not the only one who hates them.

When we get to the entrance, the security man—Miles, I recognize him—glances at us. He eyeballs our woven arms, but says nothing. He nods as we pass.

The room inside is breathtaking. Mellie took all of my input, and the result is a ballroom that is straight out of a winter wonderland. The tables around the perimeter are draped in white satin. Tall high tops circling closer to the middle are studded with trays of drinks. Every surface is decorated tastefully with silver-glittered pinecone arrangements.

Seeing the pinecones make my heart jump. They remind me of Dominic and me in the forest... of his strong hands on my hips, his cock buried in me to my limit as we both orgasm. We haven't had a moment alone to repeat that encounter.

“I know what you're thinking about,” he says softly beside me. I snap my eyes to him in shock; he's smirking. “I'm thinking about it, too. Maybe we can reenact our fun in here later, when everyone has gone.”

I want to scream yes please! I bite my bottom lip because Silas and Annie are approaching us. He's dressed similar to Dominic, a red triangle sticking from his jacket pocket. The green fabric that clings to Annie shows off her small waist and streamlined hips.

“Dominic,” Silas says, not offering a hand to either of us. Annie's openly staring at our arm-link the way Miles was. On impulse, I slide my hand away, hanging it at my side. She doesn't appear any less sour.

Silas clears his throat. “This event is starting well. There are a few prospects who want to chat with me, and the night is very young.”

I manage a smile. “I'm happy to hear that.”

He gives me a curious look. “It's good to see you taking your situation so seriously.” His eyes narrow further, and I feel Dominic tensing. His protective aura is fierce. “It should go without saying, but I hope you weren't planning to cause any trouble tonight?”

“What kind of trouble?” I ask slowly.

Annie speaks up first, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Don't go begging anyone for help. None of the people attending would risk their own livelihoods by getting involved in yours.”

My mouth opens. I work my jaw, searching for a response. “I wasn't planning on trying anything like that.”

She nods curtly. With a final glance at us both, she sways off into the crowd. Silas lingers a second before he follows her. I shake my head, crossing my arms. “Amazing, aren't they?” I ask.

Dominic makes a gritty, sharp sound. I stare up at him and catch the anger leaving his face. He's calm as a stone, and just as welcoming. “She hates seeing us together.”

I blink twice. “Annie? Why does she care what we do?”

His lips twitch at the corners, becoming a bitter smile. “Seeing me happy makes her miserable.”

I place my hand gently on his shoulder. “Well. Then she'll have to get used to being miserable, I guess.”

Dominic fixates on my hand. Then, he gazes into my eyes, taking in my sympathetic smile. My heart beats quicker when he smiles back. “I guess so.” He nods towards the group. “You attended smaller gatherings here before, right?”

“Very small. Your dad sometimes had a few friends... or business associates I guess, over for drinks. I guess there were some holiday parties, too.” He tenses when I mention those. “The guys would flirt at times, but they didn't want to talk to me.” I scan the faces in the room, narrowing in on a few eager, creepy grins. “These guys, though, they look like they're ready to eat me alive.”

His eyes darken severely. “If anyone tries anything, tell me.”

I watch him makes angry fists, the veins in the backs of his hands dancing. It thrills me to know he's so protective. “Thanks,” I say, reaching out to brush his wrist. “I think I can handle them. But I'll let you know if it gets out of control.”

Dominic considers me for a long minute. “I almost want to leave right now,” he whispers. His body guides me backwards, my calves bumping the chair. “Take you upstairs to my room and forget all about this party.”

I've never seen his room, not since he came back. I didn't go in there once after he left for school. I wonder how it looks now. How his bed would feel. If we got under his covers, like we did as kids, what would happen?

His eyes are smoldering. They twitch, spotting something to my left. Intrigued, I follow his line of sight and see a man in the crowd. He's wearing a brown vest over a white shirt, the rest of his outfit as gray as an elephant. “Someone important?” I ask.

“Potentially,” he says, hesitating.

I read between the lines. “Go. Talk. It's why we arranged this event, after all.”

Dominic separates from me. I watch him go, lamenting that I'm now going to have to make polite conversation alone.

It's a large crowd that only grows, and I notice a pattern quickly. The men are older, sometimes with multitudes of wrinkles and graying hair. There are a few younger guys, like Dominic, but not many. The women, however, are all young and beautiful. Their dresses sparkle, like their job is to be an expensive handbag for the men to wear on their arms.

It sickens me, and mingling becomes a chore.

“Ah, you must be her,” a voice says. I prepare my false smile, turning towards the speaker. He seems to be Silas's age. They don't look alike, but there's still something familiar about him that I can't place.

Black, piercing eyes focus on me. His hands are shoved in his jacket pockets. I get the odd feeling that he's resisting the urge to touch me—if it's to harm, or to show affection, I can't tell. I'm busy waiting for him to speak while being held in place by his burning stare.

He rakes his eyes down my face, to my long hair. “Did you know they call you the Wild Girl in our circle?”

“Excuse me,” I say, gathering myself. “I didn't catch your name.”

He hasn't blinked. It creates a grim energy, and the longer he looks at me, the more damage I recognize in his expression. Those furrows in his forehead are exaggerated by his widow's peak. I'm getting used to recognizing trauma. I wonder what his is.

I wet my lips, noticing they're dry. I wish he'd just blink. “How do you know the Bradleys?” I ask, trying to force conversation, or find a way to exit.

His attention doesn't leave me. “I'm Vahn, Annie's brother.”

I see it the second he spills her name. They share a similar shape to their chins, their hair the same reddish brown, like a fox's fur. My lips twitch, unable to hold my smile. Anyone associated with that woman is bad news. “Oh.”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Oh.” He sneers as he repeats me. “She's told me a little about you. The rest I learned myself.”

My pulse is racing. I wipe my clammy hands on my dress. “Did you need something from me?” I fight to keep my tone polite. If Vahn is Annie's brother, anything I do will get back to her. Any words I speak, any poor behavior.

Finally he breaks his stare, and I breathe a hair easier. He's glancing over my head at something. I'm tempted to look, but I control the urge. “No. I hope I never do. I just wanted to look you in the eye for myself, and see how similar you were.”

“Similar to who?” I ask, baffled.

He doesn't respond. Vahn pushes past me, acting like I'm as interesting as a coat rack. With him gone, my adrenaline hits me hard. My spine feels like a length of ice cubes strung through me, my dress sticks to my sweaty stomach.

Queasy, I hurry towards the sidelines. I fall into a chair and close my eyes. The darkness spins, so I quickly stare at the bright ceiling instead. What the hell was that about?

Dominic replaces my view of the chandeliers. He towers over me, his eyebrows knotted with concern. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You look pale.”

“I'm fine.” It's a white lie. I don't want him to worry about me. “Just... I met your uncle a minute ago.”

His nostrils flare. “You met Vahn?”

“Dominic, what's wrong?” I ask warily.

He keeps staring. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. Not really.” I run the conversation back through my mind. “He said he wanted to see if I was similar to someone. Do you know what that's about?”

Ignoring me, he obsessively scans the ballroom. I catch the ripple of pain that creates wrinkles in his forehead. His eyes are an oil slick, moving around, unable to rest on anyone or anything as he searches. Is he looking for his uncle right now, or someone else? “Are you okay?” I ask.

“Yes.” He snatches the last champagne flute off of a table, swallows it in one gulp. “I'll go get more—for both of us.” He wades through the packed crowd without giving me a chance to figure out what's got him so edgy. Left alone, I get to my feet. I don't want to leave without Dominic, especially if he's coming back with drinks. He'll expect me to be here. Looking for a way to kill time, I start studying the party-goers.

I make a game of counting the dress colors. Five red ones, ten blue... seven white. I'm enjoying this. It’s like bird watching, in a way. I'm happy to be doing something that keeps my mind busy.

The next dress I see is more interesting than the others. Transparent sheets with little crescent moons stitched in gold are draped over creamy silk that swallow the woman's legs. Heels that glitter like a thousand falling stars peek out beneath the hem. She's someone who doesn't care about movement, comfortable in her confinement.

I could never be that at ease. But I still admire her from behind, thinking she's a real beauty. Short, perfectly even hair tickles her earlobes. It's a glistening brunette cap on her head. I'm waiting for her to turn, painfully curious if her face could be as elegant as the rest of her.

A young man approaches, speaking up at her elbow. The woman's hair barely shifts as she responds to whatever he said. I catch her gentle profile; her blue eyes with their green flecks. And as she comes into view, letting me look upon her face—more beautiful than I imagined—my stomach free-falls to my knees.

It's Kara.

My sister.