Page 17 of Love to Defy You (The Dark Love #2)

Mikhail is snoring in front of us, so he wouldn’t know if we were in imminent danger. I glance sideways at Josie, but she doesn’t appear concerned.

Maybe it really is just a party? If Josie went through this with Mikhail, she would know whether or not there’s danger ahead.

We turn off onto a lane barely wide enough for our vehicle, but up ahead, lampposts flicker in the darkness like lighthouses calling us in from sea. When we come to a stop in front of an open gate, I let out a sigh and relax my shoulders.

Josie glances at me. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Just glad I’m not going to get hacked to pieces in the woods.

However, we’re walking into a secret society gathering that doesn’t hesitate to execute people, so maybe I have a better chance of survival with the dark shadows in the forest.

Alek shakes Mikhail awake before they help us out of the car, and when I look up, I see an enormous mansion that looks straight out of the Gilded Age.

It’s three, maybe four stories tall with a beige brick exterior and dark trim, and golden light spills from the dozens of windows on each floor.

A cobblestone pathway winds between lampposts and pastel hydrangeas toward the front doors made of carved wood, which sit between two towering columns.

Whoever lives here is rich as fuck. It’s almost as impressive as the President’s Estate in Andarusia.

When we step out of the car, the scent of jasmine lingers in the cold November air. I shiver, and Alek wraps his arm around my shoulders.

Mikhail and Josie lead the way up the winding pathway to the front entrance.

Before we can knock, an impeccably dressed butler opens the door and invites us inside with a sweep of his hand.

In the foyer, people mill around in formal wear, enjoying champagne and canapes, and although I recognize a couple of faces from Weltner, there’s no one I know well enough to strike up a conversation with.

Another butler walks past with a tray of champagne glasses, and I snatch one off and down it.

“Slow down, malishka ,“ Alek whispers. “We need to keep our wits about us.”

“I just need to take the edge off,” I murmur. “Whose house is this, anyway?”

Mikhail snags a handful of mushroom puffs as another butler passes by. “It belongs to one of the alumni of the brotherhood. He’s a banker.”

Alek surveys the foyer. “A Swiss banker? How cliché.”

“He’s the CEO of Credit Suisse,” Mikhail says with a wink.

Alek pauses and stares at Mikhail. “The CEO of Credit Suisse is in the Order?”

“I told you.” Mikhail swings his arm around Alek’s shoulders while holding a champagne flute in his free hand. “We produce the most elite CEOs and world leaders.”

“And mafia bosses, apparently,” Alek mutters under his breath.

Another couple joins our small circle, and Alek squeezes my hand so hard I have to bite back a yelp.

When I glance up, I come face to face with Enzo Messina, the guy from the fondue restaurant. His shoulder brushes against mine.

“Good evening,” Enzo says. “Aleksandr, Willow, I’m so glad you could join us tonight.”

Alek stiffens and tugs me closer to his side, wrapping a protective arm around my waist. “Not like we had much of a choice.”

“Willow, you look stunning tonight,” Enzo says. “Birgitta here was admiring your dress from across the room, so I wanted to make the introduction.”

The blonde on Enzo’s arm beams at me, her round, blue eyes sparkling beneath the crystal chandelier. She’s wearing a blush-pink designer gown that hugs her petite curves, and when she gives me an eager wave, her boobs bounce. They look much too large for her small frame.

“Allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Birgitta Lundberg,” Enzo says. “Her father owns a Swedish pharmaceuticals company.”

Despite the girlfriend on his arm, Enzo makes no attempt to hide his attraction to me. His eyes dip down to my sheer skirt, where he lingers far too long on the junction of my thighs, and his molten attention sends heat rushing to the same place.

With a dark growl, Alek pulls me away from the group and leads me toward the exit.

“It was nice to meet you, Willow!” Birgitta calls after me with an effervescent Swedish accent.

Alek’s grip on my wrist tightens, and he leads me down a hallway lined with plush Persian rugs and rare oil paintings hanging on the walls. Alek throws open the first door he finds, which leads into a small powder room, and tugs me inside.

When he slams the door shut, I jump at the noise.

“It’s him.” Alek runs his fingers through his hair and tugs on the ends. There isn’t much space for him to pace back and forth, but he does anyway.

I press my back against the door to give him room. “Who? Enzo?”

“He’s the leader,” Alek says in a low voice. “I recognize his voice. He’s the one who slit that guy’s throat in the chamber.”

“Wait, what?” My spine crawls, and the image of him lifting his beer to me at the fondue restaurant—while arousal dripped between my legs—flashes across my memory. “We should leave.”

“We can’t.” He hurls his fist at the wall and punches a hole through it. “If we do, they’ll probably kill me, and then Enzo will either kill you or take you for himself. Fucking bastard!”

I put my palms flat on his chest to stop him. “If he’s going around killing people, maybe we should just leave Zurich altogether.”

Alek leans against the wall, heaving for breath. “I don’t think that would guarantee our safety. If Mikhail’s to be believed, this organization is everywhere. They have their shadowy fingers in everything from Washington, DC, to Moscow.”

A fist starts banging on the door behind my back, and I startle with a high-pitched yelp.

“You two better not be fucking in there,” Mikhail calls. “It’s time to eat.”

Alek reaches around me and opens the door. “Speak of the devil.”

Mikhail’s hallmark shit-eating grin flashes across his face. “What? Did your girlfriend call out my name while you ravaged her?”

“If everyone around here can get away with murder, maybe I should kill you.” Alek grabs my hand and pulls me back into the hall. As we walk past Mikhail, I’m close enough to smell the weed lingering on his clothes.

No wonder he’s cracking jokes at a time like this. Josie said something about getting through these events with the Order, so perhaps it’s their way of coping with the terror this organization instills.

But Mikhail has already made it through the trials, so as long as they both keep the Order a secret, they’re fine.

It’s Alek who isn’t in the clear yet.

Mikhail’s bloodshot eyes crinkle at the corners when he lets out a booming laugh. “You won’t kill me. You love me.”

“I loathe you.”

“There’s a fine line between love and loathing,” Mikhail says. “As for me, I love a good Wagyu steak, but I hate the indigestion afterward.”

Alek snarls and pulls me farther down the corridor as Mikhail’s chuckles follow behind us.

If our lives were really on the line tonight, I’d imagine Mikhail would take this banquet more seriously. It makes me feel marginally better, but I’m still alert and ready for anything.

Josie waits for us in the foyer with a glass of champagne in her hand. “Oh, there you are. Come on, you have to see the feast. They really went all out this year.”

She leads us into a ballroom where three long tables stretch across the wooden floor from end to end.

Each one is piled with food, and gold candelabras stretch above the displays to cast flickering light on the feast. Bowls of fruits, platters of meat, and bottles of wine fill the tabletops between place settings, and the chatter of the crowd nearly drowns out the classical music playing in the background.

There’s got to be over a hundred people in here, but I doubt we’ll run out of food.

Josie leads us to the middle table and scans the place cards for our seats. She spots mine, next to the head of the table, with Alek’s on my other side. As people take their seats, it looks like everyone is sitting boy-girl-boy-girl.

So I shouldn’t be surprised when Birgitta takes the seat across from me, which means the seat at the head of the table is for...

Enzo gives me a wink before pulling his chair out, but he doesn’t sit. Instead, he raises his wineglass in the air, and without him having to say a word, the room falls silent.

Alek places his hand on my thigh under the table.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Feast of Apollo. Tonight is about getting to know each other, so please, relax, enjoy, and imbibe to your heart’s delight.

” Enzo sets his wineglass on the table and reaches for Birgitta’s hand.

“The Feast of Apollo is a special event, because tonight, we welcome our women into the fold.”

Birgitta beams up at Enzo, and as he speaks, she watches him with blind awe and devotion.

“They say behind every great man is a great woman,” Enzo continues. “And I believe that to be true. Apollo communicated the divine will of the gods through the Oracle of Delphi. Apollo chose a pythia, a high priestess, to be his mouthpiece and to serve him in his temple.”

There’s that word again. Josie said I would be a good “pythia,” but I’m afraid to find out what exactly that entails.

Alek’s fingers curl against the sequins on my sheer skirt, digging into my skin through the fabric.

“Lean on your pythias during your trials.” Enzo’s gaze flickers to me. “Seek their comforting touch, for you will certainly need it.” He drops Birgitta’s hand to pick up his wineglass and raises it into the air. “To our pythias.”

“To our pythias!” the men repeat back as one. Every person in the room raises their glass to join the toast, then drinks.

Enzo finishes his sip with a contented sigh. “Let the feast begin!”

After Enzo takes his seat, the ballroom fills with the clanking of silverware. I reach forward to grab some grapes from the bowl in front of me, but Alek grabs my wrist.

“What?” I ask.

He gives a small shake of his head.

Enzo chuckles beside me. “It’s not poisoned, Aleksandr.”

Birgitta passes a small tray of macarons to me. “Willow, you must try these. They come from my favorite patisserie in Paris.”

Alek releases my wrist, albeit reluctantly, and I lean forward to grab a macaron. I was too nervous to eat anything all day, and now I’m famished.

“Thanks.” I pop it into my mouth, and a zesty lemon flavor hits my tongue.

“Josie’s told me so much about you.” Birgitta’s bubbly voice floats across the table. “I’d love it if we could be friends.”

“Oh,” I say around the macaroon in my mouth. I swallow quickly. “Um, sounds great.”

Becoming friends with Enzo’s girlfriend isn’t a bad strategy. If I can gain her trust, maybe she’ll give me some hints about the upcoming trials.

Birgitta’s sapphire eyes light up, and she leans over to pull on Enzo’s sleeve. “We should do a triple date one night. You and me, Mick and Josie, and Aleksandr and Willow.”

“Sure.” Enzo gives her a tight smile before turning his gaze to me. “You should let Birgitta and Josie take you under their wing. Being a pythia can be a demanding role.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. “How so?”

Enzo leans back in his chair with a wicked smirk. “You’ll find out in due time. But from what I hear, you were born to be a pythia. I believe you’ll thrive if Aleksandr lets you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Alek growls beside me.

Enzo chuckles. “Haven’t you learned by now? Everything will be revealed when it is meant to be revealed. Trust the process.”

“Do you always speak in riddles?” Alek’s eyes narrow into slits.

Enzo gives his wineglass a lazy swirl before drinking from it, but his eyes dance between Alek and me from above the rim.

The rest of the meal passes this way, with Alek and Enzo glaring daggers at one another. Birgitta and Josie ignore them and chat the night away, although Mikhail chimes in with a joke every now and then between heaping gulps of food.

“Where’s your date, Henri?” Mikhail asks.

A lanky boy with glasses sits next to Birgitta, but the seat on his other side is empty. He’s been quiet the entire meal, though he seemed content to hear us chat. Henri’s face grows red when we turn to him.

“Oh, well, I couldn’t find a date.” He shrugs. “I haven’t been here long enough to meet anyone.”

“Well, let’s change that, shall we?” Enzo interjects. His chair scrapes the wood as he pushes away from the table, and when he rises to his feet, the room falls silent again.

The way he commands their attention, how they wait for him to give them instructions, is unsettling.

“Gentleman, who’s up for a nightcap?” Enzo rubs his hands together. “Ladies, please excuse us. You may continue to enjoy the meal or take the night air in the yard. I promise to return your men in one piece.”

My stomach flips as I turn to Alek. I didn’t expect us to be separated tonight. What if a surprise trial is about to take place and he’s in danger of getting injured—or worse?

Mikhail stands up and claps Alek on the back. “You two can stand to be apart for an hour or two. Come on. Let’s play a round of billiards while the girls paint their nails or whatever girls do.”

Josie scoffs. “You’re an absolute nitwit.”

“Love you too, baby.” Mikhail plants a sloppy kiss on her cheek before tugging Alek from his seat.

Alek leans over my chair to whisper in my ear. “I’ll keep my phone on if you need to reach me. I’ll come find you as soon as I can get away.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

He kisses the top of my head and follows Mikhail out of the room, but he pauses at the door to give me one last look before he disappears. All I can do is watch him leave, and for all I know, he could be walking into a trap. It makes me feel completely helpless.

Once every man has vacated the room, Birgitta goes over to the door and closes it.

Josie reaches into her clutch purse and pulls out a plastic baggie of rolling papers and weed, and with a mischievous grin, she wiggles it in the air. “Okay, ladies, now we can let loose.”

The fifty or so girls remaining in the room burst into laughter as they reach into their purses and pull out bags of pills, weed, and cocaine. Which is exactly the opposite of “keeping my wits about me,” as Alek put it.

I reach for my water glass and take a long swig, praying Alek will be back soon.