One more hour of glad-handing, and I’ll make my excuses and go. Considering travel time…that means probably one hour and twenty-five minutes until I can be back in Logan’s bed. I grin. I’ll count down the minutes. He’ll be so proud of me for tonight.
I grin, feeling lit up from the inside out. I’ll have to come up with some very creative ways to reward him for finally trusting me and—
“There he is, sir,” the security guard mutters to Adam as we enter the ballroom.
Ahead there’s a mountain of a man standing at the bar. He turns his dark head and light catches on his white mask.
No.
I stop dead on the marble floor and Adam bumps into me, making me stagger. But I don’t take my eyes off Logan.
Logan.
It’s definitely him, in a black tuxedo and a white mask.
The bartender and guests huddle away from him. Other than sidelong glances, they give him a wide berth. He stands with a glass swallowed in his fist, tension and menace emanating from his huge form, a second away from ripping off his tuxedo and attacking the room with a roar. As if he’s truly the Beast he calls himself.
The high I was riding crashes hard.
He promised. He said I could do this. I thought he’d let me handle this alone, make my own choices.
My hand flies to my chest because it hurts. It hurts. Like I fell out of a tree and all the air’s been knocked out of me.
Why, oh why couldn’t he trust me?
“Well, well, well,” Adam swaggers up to the bar. No, I want to scream. Can’t he see Logan’s unpredictable? Maybe even dangerous? “Love the mask. But you missed the memo. This is a private event. And you aren’t invited.”
Logan’s lip curls. He looms over Adam, stripping him down with a gaze. “You told me once I’d be your best man, Archer. Then again, that was before you stole my work and tried to kill me.”
I gasp and take a step back. Of course I’ve known for a while about Logan’s accusations and vendetta but the fact that he’s using this venue, this moment, to air his grievances and confront Adam, after all these years—
Around us, the party rolls on. The DJ is inviting people to dance. Some of Adam’s groupies have noticed the tense showdown though.
For the first time tonight, Adam Archer looks unsure. Then he brays a laugh. His sycophants chuckle nervously along with him. “Oh, this is too good. Logan Wulfe. Back from the dead. I have to say, man, you look like shit. Didn’t you have a run in with flesh-eating bacteria a while back?”
“No thanks to you,” Logan rasps, but his neck flushes dark red.
He’s not even looking at me.
All he can see is Adam. And his revenge.
Adam rolls his eyes, playing to the crowd. “You were always obsessed with me. You’d think you’d take a hint when I filed a restraining order. We were friends once, but you can’t ride the coattails of my success forever. A grown man, still doing the professional equivalent of cheating off his best friend’s homework? It was pathetic. I did you a favor when I cut you loose.”
“I cheated off you? That’s not how I remember it.”
I watch it all play out in front of me like a train wreck.
“The evidence says otherwise,” Adam’s voice is sharp as a knife. He might be outmatched in a fist fight, but he’s a powerful enemy.
“You stole the company, my reputation, and my research. And then you tried to kill me.” Logan’s giant fist closes around the whiskey glass until it cracks. Adam and I wince. “Did you think I would just lay down and take it?”
Adam shrugs, but he’s taken several steps back and signaled to security. “You always were a dog.”
“And you always were a worm,” Logan booms loud enough to overpower the MC. The guests around us gasp. “You stole from me. Left me for dead. Left me to plan your downfall.”
Adam’s face is a grotesque mask, a hideous smile fixed to his lips that doesn’t touch his eyes.
“Now I steal your fiancée.” And Logan holds out his hand to me. “Daphne, come.”
As if I’m a dog. Or more like the bone between two dogs. Just another kind of trophy. In this moment, I feel like an object Logan wants just for bragging rights over his rival. Was that what this was always about? Did he only seek me out me now because Adam was showing an interest in me? How dare he make me feel so small?
I don’t move.
“Daphne,” Adam says silkily. I shoot him a furious glare and he stops in his tracks. He knows if he pushes me, I’ll announce the end of our engagement in front of everyone. That’s what Logan wants me to do, but fuck him. Fuck all of them.
I shake my head. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to be free to choose. Free. I was supposed to be free. But once again, Logan took away all my choices. And why? To make me a pawn in his stupid game.
Because it was never about me.
It was always about his revenge.
The music has stopped. The whole ballroom is focused on us. The reporters don’t know what’s going on, but half of them are on their phones. They’ll get private detectives to dig, and it’ll be six hours before the whole mess breaks as news on the internet.
My hands are fisted at my sides. I raise my chin. Fuck you, Logan. He wants to force me to choose him or Adam? I’m done playing this game.
I choose myself.
Without a word, I turn on my heel and walk out of the ballroom.
Twenty-Six
Present Day
Logan
She. Left. Me. The ballroom tilts and the colors spin.
I was sitting back at the castle, planning to stay out of it like I said I would. But then all the old memories came back. As much as I trust her, I sure as hell don’t trust Adam Archer. He’s tricked and manipulated everyone around him his whole life.
He’s dangerous. The son of a bitch almost killed me.
How could I let her walk into the wolf’s den all alone? Who knows what he might have done to her when she rejected him? She was in physical danger. I couldn’t stay back. I’m the only one who knows what he’s truly capable of. I had to protect her.
But then everything got so out of control. I finally unmasked Adam but it didn’t go like I always planned.
She didn’t rush into my arms.
No, she ran the other way.
You’re a monster. Of course she ran, especially when others were looking on.
In front of me, Adam is shouting something. A phalanx of security guards in penguin suits rush me. I push them off, heading to the door. But she’s already gone. Gone, gone, gone.
This foyer is covered in roses. Red and white and rose, but all I see is green. The color of emeralds. Of absinthe. Of poison.
The color of her eyes. Daphne, the goddess in a green dress. She was so lovely—and untouchable.
I wanted to kneel at her feet. I don’t deserve her. The son of a strung out mother and a father who never claimed me. A bastard in every sense of the word.
Cruel hands grab me and I fight on autopilot. There are too many, and they drag me down the stairs. The basement air is full of mold. Of course. A beautiful building, rotting from the inside. New Olympus in a nutshell.
A shadow steps in front of me. This is going to hurt.