Page 27 of The Sole Suspect
“Don’t get carried away with the sequins this time,” I warned.
“Darling, when have I ever?” Penny’s laughter trailed behind him as he sashayed toward his shop.
My fingers drummed against my thigh as the silence stretched. The steady rhythm helped calm my racing thoughts, though it did little for the knot of tension forming between my shoulder blades as I waited for one of us to break the uncomfortable quiet.
“I know you never actually lied to me.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. “But why couldn’t you just tell me everything? Why leave out the part about working with Mr. Harrington?”
Dominic’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Vertex isn’t interested in revitalization. I’ve been an inside source for Blake for the past three years. The plan is to snatch up businesses one by one, then bulldoze everything to put up chain stores and tourist lodging.”
A chill raced down my arms despite the car’s warmth.
His voice dropped lower, rougher. “Blake doesn’t want to demolish these buildings any more than you do. Yes, some of his ideas will face resistance with the community, but?—“
“Don’t.” The leather seat creaked as I turned to face him. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. “You can’t possibly believe that.”
His silver-gray eyes met mine, dark with an intensity that made my breath catch. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Blake may be an asshole, but I’ve known him since we were kids. He can’t always be trusted to be above board, I admit that… but I know when he’s sincere.”
The air grew thick between us. His scent filled the small space, making my head spin. My gaze dropped to his mouth before I could stop myself.
“Leo.” The way he said my name, like a prayer and a warning wrapped into one, sent heat coursing through my veins.
I fumbled for the door handle. “I should go.”
The cool night air hit my face as I stepped out, clearing my head. But even as I walked away, I could feel his eyes following me, and the ghost of his scent lingered in my lungs.
CHAPTER NINE
The crystal chandeliers of Fairfax Mansion cast pools of honeyed light across the ballroom floor. Penny squeezed my arm as we stepped through the grand entrance, both of us pausing to absorb the transformation of the space.
The ornate decorations we’d crafted alongside Adelaide and the planning committee surpassed expectation. Burgundy dahlias and golden maple leaves adorned every surface, their rich autumn colors a perfect backdrop for tonight’s fundraiser. A string quartet played Mozart from the corner, the elegant notes drifting above the buzz of arriving guests.
My fingers traced the intricate brocade of my great-grandfather’s vest. Penny’s alterations had transformed the antique piece to fit my omega frame, though the silk still carried traces of an alpha’s bold confidence. The matching burgundy tie, once belonging to my other paternal great-grandfather Elijah Sterling, complemented my polished Oxfords perfectly.
“Stop fidgeting,” Penny whispered, his own emerald suit drawing appreciative glances. “You look incredible in that ensemble.”
Adelaide floated toward us in black Dior, the silk rustling with each graceful step. Her silver bob caught the light, framing those distinctive cat-eye glasses. Every gesture screamed old money, but her bright eyes sparkled with defiance. Her brother’s ambivalence to this event appeared to only fuel her determination to make it a success.
“Leo, darling.” She air-kissed my cheeks. “That vest—from the Sterling collection? I believe I recognize it from photos of your great-grandparents’ wedding ceremony.”
I nodded. “Penny worked his magic on it.”
“Isn’t it glorious in Technicolor?” Penny chimed in.
“Speaking of glorious,” Adelaide turned to Penny, whose 1950s bespoke suit emphasized his slim figure. Metallic silver art deco embroidery winked at his wrists. He’d styled his pink hair in classic waves, finishing the ensemble with a pair of sparkling silver stud earrings. “You’re a vision.”
Penny adjusted his lapel with a practiced hand just as Blake Harrington’s smooth baritone sliced through our conversation.
“Well, if it isn’t the darling duo of the Historical District.”
My spine stiffened at the voice. Blake stood there in a pristine navy Armani, his smile a perfect arrangement of white teeth. Dominic towered next to him, expression unreadable.
“Quite the turnout for your little fundraiser.” Blake’s gaze swept over the room, his smirk deepening at the edges.
“I have high hopes that it will be a success,” Adelaide replied, her face tightening as she tilted her head back.
“No doubt about that,” Blake said. His easy grin betrayed none of the guilt I expected from someone whose dastardly plot we’d exposed.
My focus fixed on Dominic. The black Tom Ford suit molded to his powerful frame, his alpha confidence filling the space between us. Warmth spread across my nape as our eyes met.