Page 138 of Terror Tuesday

The president stiffens, nodding curtly, eyes blazing with suspicion. “Careful, Mr. Von Dovish. Accidents arecostly.”

One of the enforcers near the rear door steps forward as Valen swiftly guides me from the room, tension coiling in hisbody. My father’s worried gaze follows us as we head toward the exit.

Confusion and frustration roil inside me. “What the hell happened?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, pulling me away from the noise and music and into a quiet alcove by the grand staircase. His voice is tight, urgent when he has me alone. “That bartender switched the drinks. I watched him. You were seconds away from poisoning yourself.”

Shock ricochets through me, and my knees nearly buckle. I clutch his arms, suddenly weak. “But why would he?—”

Valen steadies me, his voice dangerously low. “Someone else knows our plans. Tonight just got a hell of a lot more complicated.”

thirty-eight

“Come with me,”I tell her, pulling her closer with a glance over my shoulder.

The enforcer, Mr. Earl, heads right toward us with his hand pressed against his hip. Probably reaching for his weapon. They wouldn’t shoot me dead here in the middle of the party in front of everyone. No way.

Would they?

Olivia’s skirt swishes quietly as we scurry down the entry hall and duck around a corner. I press her back against a door, out of sight while waiting for Mr. Earl to pass. When he does, I hold my breath, heart pounding in my throat.

After a preliminary survey, he grabs his earpiece and says, “I can’t find them. Keep looking. Make sure to watch their cars…”

His heavy footfalls fade on the marble floor, and I press my mouth to my love’s ear. “We need to get the fuck out of here.”

Olivia reaches into her bag and reads a text on her phone. “Dad says he’s stalling. We can take his car.”

“No. Too obvious… Wait…”

I’d noticed the representatives from Crystal Angel Charity here. So I hurriedly place a text and wait for a notice of reply.

“Okay, let’s go.”

My brow pinches, not wanting to make the wrong move. “Where?”

“We’ll sneak out the back and then down to the stadium. A car will be waiting for us.”

She hurries with me through the glass patio doors but huffs a chuckle. “I don’t think I’m going to be sneaky at all in this dress.”

I glance down at the folds of the fabric. “Want me to carry you?”

“No. I’ve got it.” Fingers dig into the skirt, and she tugs, trying to rip it. Reaching out to help, she nods, and I reach down and hurriedly tear most of it off her corset.

A tiny smile makes my eyes crinkle. I think the old Olivia would’ve been too scared to do this. But I always knew she was a true rebel.

My heart skips a beat as the enforcer spots us entering the back garden and shouts sharply. “There they are!”

“Let’s go!” I yell at my Monarch, and we take off as fast as possible.

She kicks off her heels, abandoning them as we sprint toward the trees. We have enough space that we could hide, if not for her pink dress.

Holding her hand, I lead her over brambles and fallen logs. She moves with deftness, though, skirts gathered tightly in her arms, silent and swift despite at least one enforcer pursuing us closely. Every snap of a branch tightens my nerves further, adrenaline surging with each hurried step.

As soon as we reach a hill and the sound of our pursuer trails off, I dip underneath a rock overhang and grab my Ruger from the holster. Olivia presses her palm over my hand and shakes with cold or fear.

“Don’t!” she whispers, her eyes wide.

“I have to keep you safe.” I dart a glance up the steep incline we just ran down, but there’s no sign of the guy. “No one’s going to touch you.”