“To the hostess,” Philip Waters supplied.
“To the hostess with the mostess. To Cora,” Armand whooped. Cora tried to shush him; if Marcus didn’t know she was here before he certainly did now. She was about to extricate herself from Armand’s embrace when Olivia broke into their circle.
“Hey guys, what are we toasting to?”
“Olivia!” Armand greeted her. “We’re toasting Cora.”
“Roger that.” Olivia was a hacker Cora had befriended in the past few months and her friendship had turned out to be a lifesaver. Especially now since they were roommates after Cora had moved out of Marcus’s penthouse. Olivia relieved Cora of her glass and downed the rest of the champagne.
Cora craned her head slightly and tried to scan the room to see if her husband was circling closer. Armand still had his arm around her shoulders and was doing introductions. If she moved now, she’d appear rude. At least Marcus hadn’t approached them yet. Maybe there was still time for her to escape?
“Philip, this is Olivia, resident tech genius who owns Aurum, the tech company. Olivia, Philip runs a shipping business and owns—”
“A bunch of toys that can only be run on water,” Philip interrupted, capturing Olivia’s hand and kissing it.
“Awesome,” Olivia said, looking down her sharp nose. Olivia’s face wasn’t unattractive but Cora didn’t care for the way she wore her hair parted down the middle, black sheets falling to a blunt cut jaw. The whole hairstyle resembled a helmet. After two months of advising her friend to get her hair cut in softer layers, Cora had given up, suspecting that Olivia preferred to look striking rather than pretty.
Of course, that theory didn’t jive with the way Olivia flirted. Right now Olivia was fluttering her dark lashes at the shipping mogul. “Do you share your toys?”
“I’ll share mine if you share yours.” Philip smiled.
“Right on. I’m heading out of here soon, but I’ll look you up.” Olivia looked Philip over, from his bald head all the way down to his wing tip shoes. “You’re what, six one?”
“Six two.” Again, Philip’s smile showed two rows of very white teeth.
“Nice. You know what they say about tall men.” Olivia looked pointedly at the guest’s crotch.
“Olivia,” Cora choked out, but wasn’t sure why she was even surprised anymore. Olivia was smart enough to realize her rudeness—she simply didn’t care. “Philip was commenting on how nice this party is.”
Even as she said it, her eyes were darting around. Where had Marcus gone? Had he seen her?
“Oh, for sure. Great party,” Olivia agreed.
Armand, now hanging on Cora, had somehow grabbed a second champagne. He pointed with his new glass, dangerously close to slopping liquid onto Cora. “See that guy in the corner? That’s Max Mars, the movie star.”
They all studied the handsome blond holding court in front of the staircase, surrounded by an adoring audience five people deep.
“Hot. I’d fuck him,” Olivia pronounced. Armand snorted in Cora’s ear, leaning more heavily on her until she was surrounded by the scent of his cologne. It smelled good but was a little overpowering for her taste. Philip’s lips jerked briefly into what looked suspiciously like the start of a smile.
Cora closed her eyes as Olivia went on. “Didn’t Anna say she was auditioning for a movie that he’s starring in? That would be, like, a huge break for her.”
“Yes,” Cora said, focusing back in on the conversation at hand. “And she’s perfect for the part.”
“Where is that bitch anyway?” Olivia frowned, looking back towards the entrance. “Anna is another one of our roommates,” she told Philip, and then winked at him. ”There’s only one bed, though. Good thing we’re such close friends.”
Cora all but choked on a sip of champagne. “How about another toast?” she said desperately. Philip’s grin was now ear to ear.
“To friends!” Armand started to toast again, but the hand that held the full glass was still around Cora’s neck.
Olivia grabbed the tipsy designer, and helped untangle him. “Gods, Armand, watch her dress.”
Cora was almost free when Armand caught her arm.
“Do you like the dress?” he asked. “It’s one of my creations.”
“I actually need to go fix it real quick,” Cora stammered, tugging at Armand’s grip. She’d officially reached maximum stimulus overload. She needed a breath.
“Stop, it looks perfect,” Armand scolded.
“Very lovely. You’re like a mermaid.” Philip smiled down at her.
Cora glanced down. The blue sheath was strapless, hugging her sleek form until her waist, where it shimmered into turquoise and then down into a sea-foam green train.
“Turn around,” Olivia requested and Armand’s hand pulled her into a spin that Cora had no choice but to continue.
Of course, as soon as she twirled, her gaze swept over the crowded party, and Cora looked straight into the eyes of her husband, Marcus Ubeli.
Like in the movies, it felt like everything around them muted and became hazy. Eight weeks hadn’t changed much—for him anyway. Marcus wore his signature suit. Everything about him spoke of power, from the set of his broad shoulders to his piercing gaze. He stood in a crowd and rose above it, a man among boys.
He stood a little inside the doorway, flanked by two men dressed all in black. Shades, they were called on the street.
One glance, and Cora stopped mid-twirl, letting her dress continue without her. She stared at her husband, the sight of him hitting her with earth-tilting force. His eyes locked with hers and there was a fire burning in their depths. Searing her to the core.
With time and space, she had convinced herself that she’d imagined the potency of his effect on her. Surely she’d exaggerated how, with a look, he could pin her in place and have her begging.
A half whirl later and she had her back to him, but no relief. She knew his eyes were on her and she could all but feel the ghost of his hands on her body.
More than that, a million other memories were flooding in. Him holding her at night, his body spooned behind hers. Him finally saying the words that she had waited so long to hear, whispering over and over that he loved her.
And that last night before she’d left him. The terrifying sight of him letting the leash off of his control and watching him brutally bash a man’s head in. Over and over and over again, even after the man was dead. Marcus hadn’t known she was there, hiding in the shadows, but she’d seen. She’d seen and she’d never forget.
Cora stumbled backwards. “I have to go.”
Olivia frowned and Armand’s head whipped around. They both realized the cause of her panic at the same time. For the past two months, Cora had been Olivia’s roommate, and Armand was a frequent visitor to their tiny loft. They’d listened to her rant, hugged her when she cried, and plied her with ice cream when she moped around for days. She’d never told them the extent of it, though. She’d never told a soul about that last night and she never would.
“Oh darling—” Armand began, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed convulsively.
Olivia was more blunt. “Go.”