Page 46 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

Miley

If I die and go to hell, then this is surely how I’ll be sentenced to spend eternity: re-living tonight on an endless loop.

We must be breaking every city fire code with how far over capacity this grand ballroom is, and it’s apparent that Alpha spent a small fortune on this event.

Not only to rent out the space– every inch of which is lined with mirrors and gold-leaf trim– but to cater a crowd this large.

Pack attendance at the gala was deemed mandatory, and this entire thing is just one big PR stunt dressed up in a pretty illusion of promised happily-ever-afters.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to fake smile, fake laugh, or fake apologize for not remembering the names of people I’m somehow supposed to know.

Everyone here tonight wants a piece of me, and if I could monetize the number of times I’ve been told how lucky I am, I’d be a very rich woman.

Turns out, the first true luck I’ve had all evening is Jordan stealing me away from the endless cycle of forced conversation and giving me a much-needed reprieve from all the bullshit.

Right now, the two of us are posted up on the far side of the ballroom, standing in the shadow of an enormous potted palm that feels just as out of place here as the two of us.

My feet hurt, my cheeks ache from forcing smiles, and the champagne tastes as bitter as I feel, but at least I don’t have to pretend with my sister.

Ares is across the ballroom, looking both lethal and delicious in his dark blue suit.

He’s barely left my side since we arrived, but we got separated when Alpha pulled him aside to ‘discuss business’– which I’m guessing was code for a final play at trying to convince Ares to undergo the procedure.

Looks like Ares managed to escape the displeasure of Alpha’s company, though, because now he’s chatting with his friend Will, the grin on his face bright and real.

I should be excited that we’ve finally made it to the last hurdle before I can disappear and become someone else.

Instead, every time I look at my fake mate, there’s this dumb, heavy ache in my chest, like I’m already mourning the loss of him.

Which is ridiculous, because everything between us was just an act– a lie that we pulled off a little too well.

Wasn’t it?

“You realize if you keep glaring like that, everyone’s going to think you’ve gone rabid,” Jordan teases, nudging me with an elbow.

“Good,” I reply, swirling the bubbly in my glass and wishing I could trade it for something stronger. “Maybe they’ll stop acting like I’m on display and mind their own damn business.”

She snorts a laugh. “You are on display, babe. That’s literally the entire point of this evening.”

“Don’t remind me,” I groan, tossing back the last of my champagne and resting my empty flute on the windowsill. “If I die of boredom tonight, I’m coming back to haunt the shit out of you.”

“Promise?” she asks, dark eyes sparking with mischief. “Having my own personal ghost would be a pretty cool flex.”

“Rude.”

“But true,” she says with a wicked grin, flipping her dark hair over a shoulder.

When we’re sniping at each other like this, it’s easy to forget the real reason we’re here– the lie, the looming full moon, the spectacle of the upcoming ceremony.

Which is probably why I let myself get distracted enough to drop my guard and don’t see Elias Burke coming until he’s practically on top of us.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the one that got away,” he drawls, zeroing in on me like a heat-seeking missile. The smug grin on his face is enough to turn my stomach, the cloying scent of his cologne making my eyes water.

My hackles go up immediately, but I keep my expression neutral, giving him a single, polite nod. “Nice to see you again, Elias,” I lie through my teeth.

He shouldn’t even be here. The full moon’s tomorrow night, and most Alphas would be home with their pack to lead them on their run, not tromping around on another pack’s turf.

Something about his presence here doesn’t sit right with me, but no doubt that’s why he was invited in the first place.

Alpha loves his power games, and this is just another reminder of how far his extends.

Elias gives me a slow once-over, lewdly licking his lips. “Your mate should know better than to let you out of his sight while you’re looking this tempting.”

I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me or the way he says ‘mate’ like it’s a dirty word. I don’t like a single thing about this interaction, but before I can make some excuse to walk away, Jordan opens her mouth and makes everything even worse.

“And you should know better than to say something like that to a woman who’s obviously taken,” she scoffs, glaring daggers at my former suitor.

He swings his attention her way, and for a split second, I see something shift in his gaze. Anger, then calculation, then a quiet sort of amusement as he lifts a brow. “But you’re not, are you?” he asks, smirking. “Jordan, right?”

She plants her hands on her hips, steam practically rolling from her ears. Alarm bells clang in my brain as I glance between the two of them. Elias’ smile turns razor sharp, Jordan looks ready to pop off, and my instincts kick in just in time.

“We were actually just headed to get more champagne,” I announce, flashing my fakest smile yet as I grab for Jordan’s hand. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

I sidestep before he even has a chance to reply, dragging Jordan with me as I make a beeline across the room.

But it looks like I just dodged one bullet to find myself staring down the barrel of something even worse, because Ares is storming our way with murder in his eyes, cutting through the crowd with all the subtlety of a damn wrecking ball.

His jaw’s clenched tight, gaze locked on Elias like he’s prey.

I can practically feel the ripple of heat from Ares’ glare as he closes the distance, fists balled at his sides.

I plant myself right in his path, throwing up an arm so my palm lands square against his chest. “Don’t,” I hiss under my breath. “Not here, not now.”

He grinds his molars, gaze still trained on Elias. If looks could kill, Burke would be a goner.

Pity they can’t .

“What the hell did he say to you?” Ares grits out, a growl rumbling in his chest.

“Nothing,” I whisper sharply.

He drops his chin, pinning me with a hard look. “Don’t bullshit me, I saw the way he had you cornered. What’d that fucker say?”

“Some sleazy remark about how good she looks tonight,” Jordan pipes up, ever the instigator.

Ares’ nostrils flare with fury as he shifts his gaze to her. I do, too, and she just looks between the two of us with a shrug, completely unrepentant.

“He’s a creep,” she scoffs.

I feel this whole scene teetering on the edge of disaster, so I step toward Ares and yank Jordan with me, raising my voice just enough for them to hear.

“Both of you, stop ,” I bite out, giving each a pointed look.

“We’re so close to pulling this off, we just need to get through tonight.

Don’t do something that could jeopardize everything we’ve worked for, least of all for the sake of that jerk. ”

For a moment, neither speaks. The three of us just stand there breathing hard, the tension crackling like static. I see the metallic gleam of their wolves in their irises, dangerously close to the surface and barely suppressed.

Ares finally relents, dragging a hand through his copper hair and exhaling through his teeth. “Fine. But if he so much as looks at you wrong again, I’m–”

“Letting it slide,” I finish for him, lowering my hand to rest on his forearm. “Because we’re all about conflict avoidance tonight, right?”

He grunts his discontentment but thankfully doesn’t argue. Instead, he gives me a sidelong glance, his brow creasing in concern. “You okay?” he asks quietly.

I jerk a nod, even though the answer is probably no.

Will suddenly approaches with four flutes of champagne clutched between his hands, seemingly oblivious to the tense scene he’s walking into. “You guys look thirsty,” he says with a lopsided grin, distributing glasses to the three of us like party favors.

“Thanks,” Jordan chirps as she plucks one from his grasp, flashing him a bright smile. “We were just over here plotting murder.”

I choke on the sip of champagne I was taking as Will snickers a laugh .

“Anyone in particular?” he asks, making a show of sweeping his gaze around the room.

“Ares, if he leaves my side again,” I say, falling back into the role I’m here to play and batting my lashes at my fake mate.

He slips an arm around my waist, pulling me in close.

I know it’s mostly for show– staking his claim in front of the pack, keeping up appearances– but the way his hand settles at my hip is weirdly grounding.

I find myself instantly relaxing a little, and some of the tension seems to drain from his body, too.

Will extends a hand in Jordan’s direction. “I’m Will,” he says smoothly. “Ares’ friend.”

“Jordan,” she replies as she takes his hand and gives it a firm shake. “Miley’s older, more fun sister.”

“Hey,” I object, snapping my head in her direction, then shrugging. “Well, that’s probably true,” I admit with a laugh.

Will beams, clearly delighted by Jordan. “I like you already,” he says, tipping his glass to her.

I sip my champagne while I watch the unease in our little group start to dissipate as everyone falls into easy conversation. There’s still an edge, but it’s manageable. We can totally fake normal for a couple more hours.

Ares’ thumb traces idle circles on my hip, and every time my mind wanders to what comes next– leaving him, losing this– I get a little sick.

I glance up at him, memorizing the lines of his profile before following his gaze to a big guy across the room.

The two of them make eye contact, exchanging the barest nod.

“Friend of yours?” I ask, elbowing Ares gently.