After dumping my belongings at the cheapest hotel I could find at the last minute, I head over to an auction house I know, to offload the jewelry and designer bags Charles has given me over the years.I don't want it anymore, and I could definitely use the cash, even if I only get a fraction of what it's worth.The appraiser looks up at me after sorting through the pile I'd dumped haphazardly onto her desk. The look of pity in her face betrays her next words."I'm so sorry, honey," she says gently. "I know you wouldn't be here if you knew, which means someone has lied to you terribly. These are all fakes. Good fakes, but fakes."I feel the blood drain from my face. "What?" I whisper. My head is swirling, pounding. This cannot be happening – haven't I suffered enough? When will the blows stop coming?"I'm so sorry," she says again, reaching out to pat my hand. "Whoever he is, he's given you a pile of junk. It's worthless, hon. I can't give you anything for it. I'm so sorry."Tears stre
The ambulance arrives quickly, probably thanks to the fact that it's the Alpha's son who calls for one. Elena, the little girl, is carefully lifted onto a stretcher. Her mom flutters anxiously beside her, and they're both gently led to the waiting ambulance.Marcus catches sight of Martin, his photographer, hovering over his shoulder with the film running."That's enough footage," he says. "We don't want to overdo it, Marty. We need to strike a good balance between 'heroic Alpha's son assists glamorous doctor during medical emergency' and 'exploiting an impoverished kid and invading her privacy for political clout.'"Martin nods. "I'll try to minimize how much of her face gets shown, too," he says. "You're right – this is a great opportunity to show people how involved you are in your community, but we don't want to overdo it and piss people off. We can settle it in tomorrow's meeting."Marcus agrees. "Take off for the rest of the afternoon, put something together for me to review, an
"Be your date?" I'm so shocked that I nearly drop the bowl in my hand. "You've got to be kidding me – the wedding is this weekend. How does the Alpha's son not have a date for his sister's wedding by now?"Marcus laughs aloud. It's a gorgeous sound, thick and syrupy, like rich honey. I could drink that laugh; I could pour it into my bedtime tea and let it warm me from the inside out. His laugh is as comforting as his smile, and I wish I could catch it in my hands and keep it.He shakes his head as he dries his hands on a dish towel, the dishes finally done."My standards are far too high," he jokes, winking at me yet again.My god, I never thought that a man's wink could leave my knees feeling like jelly. In fact, if you'd asked me yesterday, I'd say that winking was cheesy as hell. From Marcus, though, it comes across as the sexiest form of subtle flirting.Still, I don't answer right away. Marcus has money and status, and that's enough to drive any woman crazy. However, I don't care
Becki is stunned. Nicole – Marcus's date? The universe has to be playing some kind of sick joke on her. She stands staring at Marcus, open mouthed with disbelief.Lucky for the family, Darlene is a bit quicker on the uptake. She grabs Becki's arm and steers her a few steps away while Paul, who had arrived behind them all unnoticed, smoothly beelined up to Marcus and started making apologies."It's my daughter, she's been under a lot of stress recently, clearly made a mistake, bit on edge, you know how these young girls are…" Becki can hear Paul soothing and chuckling.Boy, does that piss her off. She breaks free of Darlene's grip and shoulders her way back over to the little trio, glaring at Nicole's serene, glowing face as she glanced up at Marcus, still tucked protectively into his side."What is going on here?" Becki shouts, louder than she'd intended to. "Why is this – this tramp here as Marcus's date? Charles promised me that he'd introduce me to the Alpha's son. This is so unfai
Charles is clearly terrified by my presence. I hate to admit it, but I kind of love the feeling. It seems petty – I never thought of myself as the type to thirst for revenge – but it's satisfying.Oh, well: Charles ruined my life. It's surely not too awful to enjoy watching him sweat a little bit.I do feel a little bad for Daisy, Marcus's sister. Charles is so distracted by me that he keeps stumbling over the most basic tasks, like not tripping over his own feet. He's jittery and on edge, eyes darting nervously around the room whenever he loses track of me.The mixed look of relief and renewed horror on his face every time he spots me again is pretty funny, and I'm finding it a little tough to keep a straight face. You'd think I was a rattlesnake or a poisonous spider loose in the room, the way Charles is acting.Still, I don't feel bad enough to excuse myself from the reception. Charles should be afraid of me; he should face at least some kind of consequences.It gets especially bad
My eyes flicker evasively; I can't help it. What am I supposed to say to that? Although I decided not to use Marcus to get revenge on Charles, I still have no intentions of falling in love with him. I can't afford that kind of entanglement.For one thing, there are dozens of very rich, very pretty young women here who are currently staring at me with daggers in their eyes as I dance with Marcus. They're all from other prominent werewolf families, politician families, business families – you get the idea.Their families have money. They were raised to live in this kind of world, the world of Plaza weddings and real crystal chandeliers and sleekly expensive car collections in the second garage.The world of dinner menus with no prices listed, where the food was made according to the chef's discretion and the wine only comes by the bottle.The world of yachts and jets, second and third vacation homes. The world of Swiss bank accounts and handbag collections designed by people whose names
Charles still looks sick, but it's in a grim, determined sort of way. He knocks back the rest of his whisky and signals for another before standing up and facing me head on."All right," he says, his voice heavy and a little slurred from all the drinks he's probably had today. "You're right, we do need to do this. Let's go somewhere private, though. We can't talk here, right in front of the dance floor."He grabs the fresh whisky the bartender places in front of him and gestures for me to follow him out of the room. I do, peeking behind me as I go to see if Marcus has noticed where I've gone. He's surrounded by a knot of society ladies and is chatting avidly with them, without a spare glance for me.Satisfied, I hurry to follow Charles out of the ballroom. He's paused in the doorway, looking impatient."Hurry up," he grumbles when I get close to him. "And be careful. The last thing we need is anyone noticing that I'm sneaking out with you. I've had enough rumors to combat after that h
I don’t have much time to think about the bomb that Charles has just dropped on me. He wipes away the tears and focuses on my face with an intensity that makes me feel uneasy.“But what about you, Nicole?” he asks, sounding less sniffly than suspicious. “Why are you here? How are you here? Entrance was strictly controlled, and I know you weren’t on the guest list. You seemed awfully cozy with Marcus, though.”His words hang in the air, heavy and accusatory. I’m not really sure how to answer him, at least not in any way that won’t arouse further suspicion.I accidentally stumbled on the opportunity to wrangle an invitation from the hot werewolf Alpha’s son after a weird chance encounter at the soup kitchen, which was good luck for me because I’ve been trying to figure out a way to gatecrash your wedding to ruin your reputation probably isn’t going to go down well.I’ll have to make something up, something that will sound believable but relatively innocent. Something that won’t overcomm