I lean toward her to whisper the next part. “Thing is, I do want it, little monster. I’d love to feel that tight virgin cunt of yours squeezing my cock.”
Her mouth falls open at my inelegant response.
I straighten, victorious. “But one of us has to be the adult here. Think of what’s best for the little monster.”
“Stop calling me that!”
“What’s the matter? Have I ruffled your feathers?”
“Fuck off.” She folds her arms and turns to look out the window.
I chuckle as we pull in through the compound entrance where cars are already lined up, dozens of elegantly dressed men and women mingling in the courtyard.
I climb out of the car and extend my hand. “Shall we?”
She places hers inside mine. “Let’s.” She smiles wide, putting on the mask she reserves for Society events. The socialite. The wealthy, gorgeous young woman who hasn’t a care in the world. It must be exhausting.
I slip a hand to her lower back and don’t miss the looks we’re getting as I lean close to her ear. “Ivy will be here tonight. I expect you to behave. Or else.”
She stops and looks up at me. “Is that why you brought me? A repeat of my punishment with Miriam?”
My jaw tenses. Does she see it? “On the contrary. She has agreed to come to show her support of you. She doesn’t want you going before The Tribunal any more than I do.”
Her face loses some of its color then, and I rub a circle into her lower back.
“It won’t come to that,” I say.
“How can you know that?” she asks, looking up at me, that vulnerable girl beneath the armored woman before my eyes.
“I will make certain of it. I promise, little monster. I will protect you.”
She looks momentarily confused, but before she can comment, we’re interrupted. As soon as we enter the ballroom, Mercedes shines brighter than the chandeliers, the center of attention, laughing, telling stories, being the Mercedes they all know and love to hate.
It’s a little while later when Santiago walks in with Ivy. I know Mercedes has been watching for them, and I hear the small pause in her speech when she sees them. No one else would notice it, though. She’s quick to recover.
“If you’ll excuse us,” I say to the group and take Mercedes’s elbow to lead her toward Ivy and Santiago, giving Ivy a moment as she realizes who I am. In the time I kept her in that cellar, she never saw my face. But she did hear my voice. And I’m sure she’s memorized my walk, my posture. I know the moment she recognizes me from her body language. She stiffens and all but turns to leave when Santiago stops her. Her expression is one of horror as he talks to her, whispering in her ear. I can imagine what he’s saying. And when we get to them, I nod in greeting to her only to watch Santiago draw her closer when she stutters an attempt at a greeting.
“Well, well,” Mercedes says, a wide grin on her face, drink in hand. Her gaze drops to Ivy’s stomach before meeting her eyes, and I am sure both Ivy and Santiago see her disdain.
I squeeze her elbow.
“Santi,” Mercedes says. “So nice to see you two out and about together, a little family in the making.” She swallows what’s left in her glass, sets it on a passing server’s tray, grabs a full flute, and brings it to her lips.
“Easy,” I tell her. I think she’d knock the drink back if she could.
Councillor Hildebrand’s secretary approaches us then. I try to remember his name but fail. We greet him, and he asks for a moment with Santiago and me.
“Do you ladies think you can behave yourselves for five minutes?” I ask. This is as good a time as any to see if my little monster can do it.
I get the feeling the answer is no when Mercedes, beaming, takes Ivy’s hand. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll catch up.” I give her a warning look she ignores and turns to walk Ivy to a private sitting area. Santiago and I both watch the women as the secretary discusses what he came to tell us. A trivial matter.
The women speak for a few moments, and Ivy tries to disengage herself, rising halfway but then sitting back down. I don’t miss Mercedes’s bloodred nails on the other woman’s thigh. Someone Mercedes knows walks by. One of her circle whose name I don’t know. Mercedes greets her, then returns her attention to Ivy while wearing a frosty smile as they speak.
“If I were a fly on the wall,” Santiago says.
“I can probably take a guess at what is being said.”
“Sadly, so can I.”