Only this time, I am the trophy.
“I need to talk to you. In private,” I hiss to Adam, keeping a grin plastered to my face as the cameras blaze.
“Of course, darling.” Adam coos, and adds for the crowd’s benefit. “She wants to speak to me...alone.” His voice drips with innuendo. Guests guffaw.
Fuck this. Fuck everyone. I grab Adams sleeve and march ahead of him, through the foyer into a private room. The scent of store-bought roses is cloying.
“Daphne,” Adam murmurs, shutting the door and swaying towards me.
I hold up a hand. “Adam, don’t.”
He chuckles. “It’s all right. It’s only me.” He goes to the sideboard and pours champagne.
I tug off my glove and wriggle my bare fingers. Deep breath. I can do this.
“Let’s toast,” Adam says. “To us.”
“In a minute. I have to speak to you.”
Adam moves closer. When he looks down at my hand, his face goes blank. “Daphne, where’s the ring?”
“I have it.” I start to fumble in my purse like a child called on the carpet. Then I stop. What the hell am I doing, letting him put me on the defensive like this? “Adam, there’s something I have to say first. Then, I’ll give you back the ring.”
His nostrils flare but I forge on. “I’m flattered that you proposed. I’m grateful that you tried to help me save face in front of the press. But I don’t want this.”
A rush of relief and empowerment sweeps through me as I finally say it.
My fingers find the ring and I hand it back to him. “You’ve been an ally of my father’s company and a wonderful support to me and him. A friend. But I don’t want to marry you.”
There. I did it. I square my shoulders.
“Daphne,” Adam murmurs, his voice dripping honey. His hand closes around mine, keeping the ring clenched in my fist. “You can’t be serious.”
My mouth drops open. I just stood tall and told him my truth and he’s—
“I am serious,” I protest. “Very serious. And look, I wanted to do this in private, to help you save face, but if you push it, I’ll march out there and tell everyone.”
And I will. He’s not taking this away from me. No one is.
But while Adam can be obnoxious, he’s not a bad guy. So I soften my voice, but only the slightest bit. He needs to know exactly how serious I am. “It might be better to wait a few months and work with a PR company to announce it quietly, but if you try to steamroll me, I’ll just do it now with a mic.” I tug my hand away and hold up the huge diamond. Then I say it again, and say it firmly. “I don’t want to get married.”
“All right,” he says carefully, and steps back. He gets it. I can see he doesn’t like it, but he gets it. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is.” There’s a moment I almost fumble the ring, but it lands safely in Adam’s palm and he tucks it away. The knuckles of his fist are white and his jaw is a tightly clenched, but he doesn’t argue.
I blow out a huge breath. I did it and I feel like I’ve lost twenty thousand pounds of extra weight.
I want to kick off my heels and head home, but the party isn’t over. Even though all I want to do is call a car service, drive back to the castle, and throw myself in Logan’s arms in victory.
But being strong isn’t just a one-time occurrence. Now comes the real test, going out and being strong in front of all those strangers out there.
Really, it doesn’t sound so scary anymore. Apart from a few people like the Ubelis, I couldn’t care less about the people out there. Who cares what they think of me? This is my life and it’s time to live the fuck out of it.
“Shall we go out and mingle with the guests?” I ask Adam. “If anyone asks the wedding date, we just tell them we’re going to wait awhile. We have a lot going on with our companies.” I offer Adam a smile. It costs me nothing to be nice.
For a second he says nothing. His head is bowed and face is in shadow, his hand still in his pocket. Playing with the ring?
Then he grabs a glass of champagne from the sidebar and steps close, flashing the charming smile paparazzi know and love.
“Of course,” he replies smoothly. “Champagne? I ordered the best. Might as well enjoy it.” Up close, his face is stunning, but his eyes are flat. His smile has no soul.
I sip the drink not because I want it, but because I want to make him feel better. He is a friend, especially to my father. Maybe I should’ve let him down more gently. “Adam, I—”
“We should get back,” he cuts me off, heading to the door. Fair enough. Before he gets there, it opens and a man in a suit walks in. He’s burly and has one of those clear earpieces, so he’s probably security.
“Sir, we have a visitor. An uninvited guest. He’s pushed his way inside and is demanding to speak with you.”
“I’m coming,” Adam promises. “Daphne?” He holds out his hand to me.
I ignore it and glide past him. The security guard and Adam both flank me as I stride through the foyer.
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 cheat
ing 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.
A punch to the face. Another. They want me to pay for breathing their air. For existing. I smile through aching teeth, dripping blood.
“Hit him again.” Adam says, excited. He sounds like he has a hard-on from seeing me bleed.
I throw off the men holding me. Four on one, and they can’t keep me down.
“You,” I snarl in Adam’s direction. He doesn’t look scared. He holds all the cards. He always did. Fucker’s been playing me since he met me. A poor, scrawny kid on scholarship.
I played the cards I had and...I dealt wrong. Daphne’s gone. Have I lost her for good this time?
“Logan,” Adam says. “You came back.”
“I never left.”
“I always wondered what happened to you. The hospital told me you disappeared, but I didn’t follow up.”
“This isn’t over,” I promise, and head for the back door. I’ll find Daphne, get her back. Keep her safe while I destroy her father and Adam, my enemies.
The battle is lost, but the war? The war has just begun.
Twenty-Seven
Present Day
Daphne
I’m shaking as the cab pulls away from the curb. No one spills out of the ballroom to follow me. Not even Logan.
I half expect him to burst out of the building and chase down the car like a monster in a movie. Part of me wants him to. The other part of me is pissed. I’d cross my arms over my chest, but I don’t want to chafe my nipples. Although, I laughed bitterly, what do the piercings even matter anymore?
The cab turns the corner, heading to my apartment at the heart of the city, and suddenly I’m super cold.
The ring is gone, and with it a huge weight. If tonight had gone as planned, I’d be heading back to the castle. Back to Logan, my Master. Why did he have to ruin everything? I was his. The big stupid dominant nerd.
I. Was. His. Did I have to brand his initials on my butt for him to know it?
The woman reflected in the cab window smiles sadly. She’s stunningly beautiful, but looks so alone. I fought hard and have come so far, only to end up alone.
“It’s not fair,” I growl at her.
“Excuse me, miss?” the cabbie asks.
“Um, nothing.” I duck my head. Great, now I’m a crazy woman, talking to herself in the backseat of a hired car.
If only Logan had trusted me. Now he thinks I left him, when really I was trying to return to him with no strings attached. Completely free. It’s not fair that he chased me down, but when is life fair? Love is not just give and take. The more I give, the more I own his heart.
I sit up straight on the tattered backseat. Maybe that’s it.
Maybe I’ve done all I can do and it’s up to him. All I can do is control my own actions and continue down this path, wherever it leads me.
What do I want? What do I really want? Not my father, not the board, not Adam, and not even Logan?
What do I want and what am I willing to sacrifice to get it? The gods won’t accept a small sacrifice, my father once told me. They want everything. He was old and tired after my mother’s last relapse. Her disease was taking its toll, taking it all, but he was willing to give up everything for love.
He was even willing to sacrifice me, his daughter.
But he’s no role model and I’m not him. I won’t abandon my soul so that love contorts until it looks nothing like love.
Who am I, Daphne? What is core to what makes up me and what will I sacrifice for that true self I’m only just discovering?
The past month has shown that I’m willing to give up a lot of external things I thought defined me and only then have I been stripped down enough to discover who I really am. Maybe I need to sacrifice it
all if Logan and I are really going to have a chance. Because it’s ultimately what I’m asking of him, isn’t it? To choose me over his revenge.
“Miss? We’re here.”
I pay the driver and tumble from the cab. I’m still shaking with adrenaline and cold, but I don’t feel so empty.
Maybe that’s the answer. The ultimate sacrifice to the gods. I can give up everything. And be completely free.
I skip up the stairs and put the key in the lock of my apartment door, ready for a long, hot soak in my bathtub.
But when I push my door open, my apartment is…empty.
And I mean, completely freaking empty. We’re talking bare walls and bare floors. There’s not even a living room rug left. Or a lamp. It’s all gone.
“What the f—”
“I tried to tell you before you left the ball.”
I spin around, mouth open, to find Rachel standing behind me, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. Her normally perfect bun askew. “I chased after you but you’d already gotten in the taxi.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before? We spent hours together while I was getting ready!”
She drops her eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I thought maybe you and Adam would work it out and it wouldn’t matter.”
“What does Adam have to do with this?”
“He’s the one who moved all your stuff into his place. As like, a surprise engagement present.”
Adam fucking Archer. What the hell is up with him? Did he always just stampede over people and then pretend it was a ‘present’ or a ‘surprise’ or was it only with women he was supposedly engaged to?
The gods want everything. But Adam isn’t a god. He’s a spoiled rich boy.
My hands are in my hair as if I’m about to rip it out by the roots. I force myself to let go, lower my hands and huff out a long breath. “This is so not okay. Where am I going to sleep tonight?” There’s zero furniture left in my townhouse. Just a dust outline of where my pictures used to hang on the wall. Fucking Adam Archer.
“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going to sleep in my own damn apartment. Come on. Let’s go get my stuff from Adam’s. You game?”
Beauty and the Thorns Page 13
