“For homeless youths.”
“Great. I’ll bring my checkbook.”
CHAPTER FOUR
CHARITY EVENTS WERE the scourge of Ferro’s existence. A shiny, gorgeous hotel ballroom, filled with internally ugly people who possessed an unnatural amount of self-importance. People who manipulated and used the less fortunate for their own pleasure during the day, but showed up to things like this to show their altruism to the press.
He could well remember the first time he’d been in a room like this. Hating who he was with. Hating that he had to smile and fawn and do whatever it was he’d been paid to do. No matter whether he wanted it. No. The tabloids, the author of his bio, they really had no idea of the depths he’d been to.
He looked at Julia, who was holding on to his arm like it was a live eel, the smile on her face anything but easy, and he wondered if he had become no better.
No. This benefitted Julia, too. It was an exchange.
Like sex for money?
Hell, no. This wasn’t the same.
Why was he even thinking about it? He rarely did. But it happened more since Julia and he had struck their unholy alliance. No one knew the truth. They believed, of course, that he’d slept his way to the top. He’d been spotted with some very wealthy older women in his younger years. But they didn’t know the truth.
The rumors clung to him, disgusted him. Because of the ring of truth to them. But he would walk the same path a thousand times to end up where he was today. He just went on, proving his right to be in his position with his continued success.
Regret was for the weak. And he wasn’t wasting any time on it tonight. Or ever. He was shutting it off. The way he’d shut off the feelings of bone deep hunger and cold he’d experienced as a child on the street. The way he’d shut down the shame and pain when he’d been lifted up from that gutter where he’d been and brought into a glittering, hideous world that had asked for his soul in exchange for food and a warm bed. In exchange for eventual success.
The way he shut desire down now, to avoid ever thinking about that time in his life.
Tonight, for this, he would shut off what little conscience he had left, and go forward. Because it was the best thing to do. Because the end always justified the means. Always. And because he was no longer the boy he’d once been. He was the man with the power. And that meant he would win in the end.
As they moved through the room, a wave of whispers followed. Everyone was watching them. Everyone was interested.
“Try to relax,” he said to Julia.
“I am relaxed.”
“Which leads me to the conclusion that you genuinely don’t know how to relax. You’re tense. You’re practically shivering.”
She looked down at her hands. “I have a lot of energy.”
“Is that so? Then perhaps we should put it to good use.” He shifted his hold on her and laced their fingers together, drawing her out toward the high gloss dance floor.
“Why?” she asked, her tone petulant.
“Why what?”
“Why the dancing?” She looked genuinely worried now, all that tough-chick bravado gone.
“Because the headline will be sensational.” He drew her up against his body and felt her frame tremble beneath his touch. It wasn’t attraction. He was well familiar with women being attracted to him. She looked…scared. “I’m not going to bite you,” he said.
“I know.” She looked around. “But I’m going to look stupid.”
“Follow my lead.”
He began to step in time with the music, guiding Julia’s movements. She clung to his shoulder, her nails digging into him through the fabric of his jacket. He was familiar with that, with long nails pressed into his skin, a memory from his past. But this, again, was different.
She stumbled, the heel of her shoe harsh on his toe, even with his custom leather shoes to cushion the blow. Her face turned pink. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He kept on moving, and she stumbled again, the color in her cheeks deepening.
“This isn’t really my thing,” she said, looking over his shoulder, at the people behind them. “People are staring.”
“Most of them probably like our Facebook page. We’re infamous now, not just famous.”