They speak some more, and finally, Ivy, forgetting or not caring she’s in public, shoves Mercedes’s arm off and stands. She only gets about two steps in before whatever Mercedes says stops her, and Santiago and I move just a little closer. Close enough to catch enough of the words that will condemn Mercedes to her fate tonight.
“In nine months' time, I’ll be back in my rightful place,” Mercedes hisses.
“What did you say?”
“Or eight months, I guess?” She sips from her drink.
“What are you talking about?”
She stands and walks toward Ivy, her approach that of a predator.
Santiago sighs in disappointment as we hear the rest of their conversation.
“What did you think? That you could steal my family from me?” Mercedes asks Ivy.
“I’m not stealing anything. Your brother made a choice. He chose me.”
Mercedes pauses, then cocks her head to the side to study Ivy. And she laughs. “Oh, my God! I don’t believe it. You’re in love with him. You are seriously in love with him.”
“I—”
“Well, poor, stupid Ivy,” she says, leaning closer, twirling a strand of Ivy’s hair around her forefinger. “He doesn’t love you. He could never love you. Not after what your father did to him. To us.”
Ivy’s face pales.
“So enjoy your little victory for now. But remember what you are to him and what he needs you for. Once you give him his heir, it’s bye-bye, Ivy.”
25
Mercedes
“Mercedes.” Judge’s voice is thick with warning as I try to pull away from him before we can even reach the car.
I know whatever punishment he has waiting for me at home won’t be pleasant, and right now, in my tipsy state of mind, I’m questioning if I can actually outrun him. The answer comes when I do break away from his grasp and nearly topple face-first into the sidewalk. Judge’s steely arm catches me from behind, hauling me back against him with little effort before he drags me back toward the Rolls Royce.
I resist him, trying like hell to pry him off me, but people are starting to stare, and humiliation burns me alive as I notice three familiar faces watching the scene unfold from the courtyard. Giordana, Dulce, and Vivien are all sipping from their flutes of champagne, their eyes glued to my face as they revel in my anguish. Those women are supposed to be my friends, but I can see now they never were. They made it obvious tonight when they didn’t even bother to ask where I’d been for all this time. Concern for my welfare was nonexistent in our brief conversation, and it was plain to me that they’d enjoyed my absence. That bitter truth stings, but if I can be grateful for one thing, it’s the indignation on Vivien’s face.
She has always carried a torch for Judge. I doubt he even knows she exists, but I can recall vividly how she’d try to get his attention at social events. How she’d pine over his dark, handsome features and his powerful, dominant personality. She had delusional dreams of converting him from a perpetual bachelor to her husband someday, and I can see now that I’ve inadvertently ruined that for her.
Maybe it’s my cold, black heart, or maybe it’s the alcohol circulating in my bloodstream. Whatever it is makes me bold, and before I can overthink it, I thrust my palms against Judge’s chest without warning, slamming him back against the car. He grunts in surprise, and I swallow that sound when I press my body against his and capture his lips with mine.
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that The Society is all about appearances. Not only will this little display leave my frenemies with something to gossip about for weeks but it will also turn things around in my favor. If they think I want to be with him… that this is some kind of fiery, dysfunctional relationship, then I will be lauded by every Society daughter for claiming the one man who’s never dared to court anyone publicly. I’ll be a goddamn legend, and Judge will have to face the consequences of my very public exhibition.
His friends will raise eyebrows. Every eligible woman will whisper our names. They will question his morals. They will look at him with certain judgment, and he will know what it’s like to be on the receiving end for once.
Those are my best-laid plans. But when I drag my fingers through his hair and press my pelvis against his, feeling the length of his undeniably hard cock, Judge doesn’t break away as quickly as I anticipate. Instead, he seems to almost… freeze, as if he can’t help himself. He wants this, and that becomes ragingly evident when he groans into my mouth, his fingers clutching my hips possessively.
What started as a stunt evolves into something else, and my motives become background noise to the fire he stokes inside me when he deepens the kiss. I make a bold move, my tongue sweeping over his lips until he grants me entry and then sucks me inside with an agonized sound. I want to play that noise on repeat. I want to hear him make it again and again as he breaks every rule with me. But before I can make that happen, Judge seems to snap back to his senses. He pulls away on a ragged breath, his eyes darting around us before narrowing on me.
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, little monster.”
I smile up at him sweetly, and he drags me into the car, slamming my ass onto the leather seat and forcefully buckling me in. By the time he’s got the door closed and plants himself next to me, I’ve already got my seat belt undone again.
I crawl onto his lap and grab his face, trying to take back control, snatching what I can’t admit I want. I can see him battling with himself, torn between giving in and holding on to the rules that govern us. He keeps telling himself he won’t ruin me, but I know he wants to, and more importantly, I want him to.
“Just give in,” I whisper against his lips as he tries and fails to secure both my wrists in his grasp.
I yank one of them away and shove it down between us, cupping the bulge in his trousers before I drag my fingernails over it, making him shudder.