Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
“When I’ve got word the cops have found him, I’ll try to relax,” he says gruffly.
“I’m sorry about this. You must be devastated.”
“I thought my father loved my mother. I thought Grandma was always honest with me.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” I say, squeezing his hand.
“I’m too old to pout.”
“Don’t do that.”
He looks down at my sudden sharp tone. “Do what?”
“Downplay your feelings. Act like you’re not allowed to have any. You’ve learned some devastating news, Raiden, news that would shake anyone to their core.”
“Everyone wears masks,” he says sourly, looking around the bright ballroom, the chandeliers glistening, a band playing soft music from the stage, men in expensive suits and women in elegant dresses mingling and networking.
“All this time, Sebastian has been wearing a mask. The loyal butler. He was my brother this whole damn time.” His voice suddenly grows louder. “Julian!”
Julian, his cousin, approaches us. His curly black hair looks wet with sweat, and thick beads slide down his forehead.
“Nervous about something?” Raiden says.
Julian laughs… nervously.
“Get a call from the detective?” Raiden goes on relentlessly.
Julian’s face goes pale. “You got the same call?”
“Did you know?” Raiden grabs Julian’s shirt and gives him a shake. “Don’t just look at me, dammit. Answer me.”
I touch Raiden’s arm. He’s burning up even through the fabric of his suit. “Raiden, people are looking. Remember your mask.”
He lets his cousin go, but he’s still visibly shaking.
“Well?” he snaps.
“No, man. Jesus. If I’d known I had another cousin, I would’ve said something. This is a shock to me too.”
“Do you know who it is?” Raiden says.
Julian narrows his eyes. “Do you?”
“Think, Julian. It’s someone we know. It’s someone who’s always been there, but we’ve never looked too closely at. Because we were born into a certain class and certain kinds of people are invisible to us. That’s an ugly fact, but it’s a fact all the same.”
After a pause, Julian’s mouth falls open. I’ve heard and read the phrase jaw dropped countless times, but this is the first time I’ve seen it in real life. It’s like his jaw is going to dislocate.
“You don’t mean… Sebastian?”
“Right there in plain sight all this time. It explains everything about him and Grandma.”
“Oh, fuck,” Julian says. “It was him, Raiden. It wasn’t me. It was him.”
Julian’s voice trembles as though he’s about to have a panic attack.
When Raiden touches his cousin’s shoulder, offering comfort despite everything that’s happened between them, my respect for him soars. That can’t be easy, yet he’s doing it anyway.
“Relax–and explain.”
“He blackmailed me to screw you over on that deal. He forced me to take an escort to the Retreat. When you found us arguing that time, it was because I learned she was spying on me for him.”
“Blackmailed you,” Raiden says. “Hell, with what?”
“With… photos.” Julian’s pale cheeks color red. “He pretended to be a woman. A couple of years ago. On a dating app. I sent some photos I shouldn’t have. Ever since then, he’d had me. He’s owned me.”
“You didn’t want to betray me,” Raiden whispers.
“Of course not. No damn way,” he says with conviction, and I believe him. “Fuck, I’m getting out of here. I can’t handle this shit.”
“Be careful,” Raiden says. “Sebastian may have it out for you too. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“I’m taking a cab home, locking the door, and forgetting about all this for a while.”
Julian walks away, shoulders slumped. I smooth my arm around Raiden. He holds me tight, as though he needs support now more than ever. As we clutch onto each other, it’s like my metaphorical mask slips away.
This is genuine. I want to be with him.
“Oh my,” a man says, wearing a glittery black suit with painted nails, his hair dyed jet-black. It takes me a moment to recognize him as Martino Luis, a famous fashion designer. “Darling, this dress is simply divine. Excuse my forwardness, but I must ask. Who are you wearing?”
I’m too flabbergasted to speak. I’d check behind to make sure he really is talking to me, except we’re standing against a wall.
“Wait a second, Martino,” Raiden says. “Guess.”
“Guess? Hmm, I like this game. Let me think.” He taps his chin.
Raiden grins down at me, his bad mood temporarily lifted.
“Silvia Venturini, Fendi?”
I gasp when I hear the famous designer’s name. He seriously thinks my work is that good?
“Uh, no,” I mutter.
“Is it Prada?”
“It’s hers, Martino,” Raiden says with clear pride in his voice. “She didn’t just design it; she made it. She creates masterpieces from scratch. And she’s got a knack for it, hasn’t she?”
“A knack.” Martino waves a hand at Raiden. “A knack, Raiden? That’s like saying Da Vinci was pretty good at painting. This is absolutely sublime. Darling, is he telling the truth? Did you truthfully design this?”