I shrug. “Not sure. I’m thinking at the wedding we need to make sure they never get too close.”
“On it.”
“And after the wedding, I’d like to send Simon and some men to spy on Bogdan and Rao.”
Viggo stands from his seat. “I can arrange that.”
I nod. “See to it you do.”
Because I can’t let Bogdan or Rao have Allison. I can’t let anyone have her… not even me.
Four
Allison
* * *
I never meant to get Simon into trouble. I’ve been sitting in this room for what feels like hours since Simon left to speak with his uncle.
Draven is an interesting character. The way he stared at me, like he could read my every thought, makes me feel like I have an internal blush warming my insides. My fingers ache, and I stretch my hand, wondering where the heat is coming from.
Is it from his touch?
Draven’s eyes held such mystery in their dark depths, and I couldn’t stop staring into them. Like a moth to a flame, he enraptured me.
And that is not good. He’s Simon’s uncle, for fuck’s sake. I should work on my paper instead of waxing poetic about an older man I just met.
I open my backpack, pull out my research notebooks, and plop them on the bed. My computer is in my other bag, and I move to retrieve it when there’s a knock on the door.
I open it and look up into the piercing brown eyes of Draven.
“Is Simon in trouble?” I ask.
Draven smirks down at me. “Simon is fine. We’d like you to join us for dinner in the main dining room.”
I glance at his snug-fitting black dress shirt and slacks and down at my jeans and t-shirt. “Should I change into something more appropriate?”
Draven’s eyes roam over my outfit choice and then snap back up to my face. “Your attire will do.” He turns in one fluid movement and walks down the hall.
He’s so brusque—so formal—that I’d rather stay in my room. But I’m hungry, and as a guest in their home, skipping dinner would be rude. I try to keep up with his hurried strides but fall behind until I’m practically running down the stairs to keep up with him.
When we enter the dining hall, there are extra people at the table. And my attire will not do. Everyone is dressed to the nines, and I’m perturbed Draven didn’t let me change into something a little more presentable.
Simon, dressed in a navy suit, and his mother, in a matching dress, sit near the head of the table. Even Lina’s hair looks regal, pinned atop her head in a plaited bun. She stares down her nose at me, and I can tell she’s also noticed my outfit isn’t right.
I’m burning these ratty jeans after dinner.
Another couple sits on the opposite side of the table from Simon and his mother, and a tall man, taller than any I’ve ever seen, sits at the head of the table. Simon stands and pulls out the chair beside him, motioning for me to sit. I slide past everyone, making my way over next to him.
“How will we make her a clan member?” the woman with black hair asks. She, too, stares down her nose at me, but not in the same fashion Simon’s mother does. This woman is most likely judging my entire existence, not just my clothes.
“I have a few ideas,” Draven says as he takes the spot at the opposite head of the table.
Servants wander around, pouring red wine into the fancy glass goblets with gold metal embracing the stems. They bypass mine, leaving it empty.
“I told them you’d probably just want a soda,” Simon explains.
“Thank you,” I whisper back to him.