Page 120 of Tethered

I meet her eyes. “Thank you.”

Mae snorts. “Good luck, she’s in a foul mood.”

As I turn away, she stops me. “I wouldn’t let Eduard see me, if I were you. He’s much more professional than I am and much less a sucker for a beautiful face.”

I hadn’t factored in Gryphon using Securitas for the event. A man like that has his own security, but I should have realised he’d need a bigger team for a gala. I head upstairs, following the wrought iron railing as it curves to the left. It’s mirrored on the right, and both sides meet at the grand landing, creating the heart shape. I take the left hallway, slipping past a few people meandering on the terrace. With ornate settees and gilt wall sconces, it’s the most obnoxiously beautiful hallway I’ve ever seen. I pass what must be generations of family portraits rendered in oil, as plush Persian rugs muffle my footsteps. The sounds of the string quartet are muted up here; my heartbeat is thundering so hard I’m surprised I can’t hear it.

I hadn’t thought this far ahead, and now my hands are sweating, my throat dry. What am I going to say to Marlowe when I find her? I tried to come up with something of a script earlier, but my mind kept skittering away from the topic. I’ll have to improvise.

As I pace the hallway, I try all the doors. Rather than crack them open and peer around, I use full force, intending to feign intoxication should I disturb anyone who cares enough to complain. Better to appear disagreeable than sneaky. I interrupt a couple in flagrante against dark bookshelves who don’t even bother to glance over. I discover a room fitted with wall-to-wall glass cabinets of old tech. I recognise gramophones, point-and-shoot cameras, typewriters and projectors amongst a panoply of wires, oblong-shaped items, and gleaming devices. After a few more empty guest rooms, I hear muffled cursing behind the last door in this wing. It’s a familiar voice, and my breath hitches.

I find Marlowe on the other side, one arm on an ornate dresser for balance whilst she leans down with the other. She’s trying, and failing, to hook an earring that’s fallen to the floor. She doesn’t look up.

“I said I just needed aminute, Dominik, for fuck’s sake.”

The door clicks behind me, and my throat is too dry to speak. She finally looks up, and nothing matters because our eyes meet and it’s like being punched in the chest.

Marlowe’s expression sags. She snaps up, gripping onto the dresser. Her mouth moves for a few seconds before she finds words. “What are you doing here?” It’s almost a whisper.

I want to touch her so badly it hurts. Instead, I sweep up the earring and place it by her hand.

She looks otherworldly. Her dress is a silvery gossamer material, diaphanous and pillowy, showing off her silhouette. It perfectly offsets her dark skin, the gold that’s been dusted along her cheekbones, her temples, her chest. She looks like she belongs here, sweeping down these vast halls. It makes me feel sick.

Marlowe swallows hard and looks at the earring, palming it gently.

“Dominik gave me these to wear tonight—the whole outfit, in fact, but the dress is too small, and I can’t fucking bend in it.”

“I don’t care about the dress, Marlowe.”

She exhales shakily. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Neither should you.”

“Please don’t let him see you here. He said—” She stops herself. “Just go, before someone sees.”

She smells like citrus. I hate it. A longing for the scent of pomegranate and lavender on her skin hits me like a maglev, and it’sthisthat snaps my patience; this that pushes me over the edge of the precipice.

“You’re going to spend the rest of your life here, miserable, with him?”

Marlowe flinches, but then her jaw tightens. She throws her head back rather than retreat, and I hate that I’m both proud of her and on the wrong side of this fight.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know that he threatened you.”

Her shoulders sag.

“I heard the things he said to you. I wish you could have confided in me, but I get it, Marlowe, I do.”

Something ignites in her, gathering intensity quickly. “Then you should’ve known not to come here. It’s eight years with Dominik at the most. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Vee. Even this.”

“We can help you. It doesn’t have to be... this.” I gesture at her outfit. Like a doll, Gryphon clothed her without care for her wants or her needs.

Marlowe presses her eyes shut as if she’s pleading for patience. “Do you know how many politicians are at this party? How many celebrities? CEOs? Dominik has contacts everywhere. I’m not going to risk a future with my son.”

“Is this what you want Vee to think love is? Ownership?” I snap.

She moves so fast that we end up toe to toe. She’s closer to my height in those heels she’s wearing.