Chapter 26: A deadly promise

Ivy’s pov

"You’ve gone insane, Harper Ivy Kingsley," I spat at my reflection in the bathroom, my legs trembling so badly I had to grip the edge of the granite countertop to stay upright.

The heavy door was clicked shut behind me, muffling the distant hum of the party, and I finally let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

My whole body was buzzing. A deep hum that seemed to emanate from my bones, reminding me of the pleasure that had just ripped through me.

"I look like some doxy,’ I groaned, eyeing my wild, dazed eyes and cheeks flushed a deep crimson. I hadn’t known having an orgasm in public could be that intense. That... shattering.

What Roman did to me was insane. Deranged even. What on earth? That was a public spectacle of lust that could have destroyed me. And a small, terrified part of me knew I should be horrified, should be packing my bags and running for the hills.

But another part, the part that was still thrumming with a dark, illicit desire, thought it was... kind of thrilling. I mean, not like I would want to do it again, but it was insanely hot, knowing how close I was to getting caught.

My body was still reacting to him. My nipples were tight and tender, so sensitive they ached every time the fabric brushed my tits. My skin felt too tight. I reached under the hem of my dress, my fingers finding the hard, smooth base of the vibrator still nestled inside me. My pussy walls clenched reflexively around the object. I had to get it out.

With a shaky breath, I gripped it and pulled, the slow slide of it out of my slick heat making me gasp. My legs felt like jelly. I quickly rinsed it under the tap, my face burning with mortification, before wrapping it in a handful of paper towels and shoving it deep into my clutch. It felt like I was hiding a murder weapon.

I cleaned myself up as best I could, my movements clumsy. I was a mess. I splashed cold water on my face, then patted my skin dry before lightly slapping my own cheeks, trying to bring some color back to them. "Get it together, Harper," I whispered to my reflection. "You’re a Kingsley. Act like one."

Taking one last breath, I pushed open the heavy bathroom door and stepped back into the hallway.

And froze.

"Father?"

My father was standing there, a few feet away, glancing down at his watch. The sight of him jarred me from my post-orgasmic haze straight into a pit of ice-cold fear.

Guilt washed over me, thick and suffocating. Did he notice? Did he see me writhing at the table? He hadn’t been at our table, but my father missed nothing. God, I hoped he didn’t see that and that he was busy talking to some investor.

He turned his head, his cold, dark eyes finding mine, but he didn’t say anything as he bored into me.

"I... I wasn’t feeling well," I stammered, feeling the need to explain myself, clutching my purse to me like a shield. "Just needed some air."

He pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us. "You’ve been in that house for weeks, Harper. You’ve cleaned their floors and washed their sheets. And what do you have to show for it? Nothing. Where is the ledger?"

"I’m trying, Father," I pleaded, my voice small. "They’re careful. But I have things." I reached into my clutch, my fingers brushing past the damning vibrator to pull out my phone.

"I’ll send the recordings of private meetings and phone calls that I had managed to get," I turned the screen of my phone to him so he could see.

"And I got this." I pulled up the files I’d copied from Gideon’s computer. "They’re encoded. I can’t break them, but they’re important. I know they are."

He scanned the information, his face unreadable. "This is something, I suppose. But it is not enough to save my hard work. You had better get me that ledger soon, or Jacob will have to take your place."

"Yes, father- "

Before I could finish, a loud sound echoed from down the hallway: a crash, followed by a muffled shout. It came from the direction of the men’s restroom, not far from where we stood. I frowned, my head snapping toward the noise.

"We’ll talk later," My father grunted. "It’s not wise for us to be seen together." Without another word, he turned and strode down the hallway, toward the men’s bathroom, disappearing around the corner.

I stood there for a moment, disoriented, before turning to walk back toward the ballroom. I had only taken a few steps when a cold, dangerously smooth voice slithered around the corner, stopping me dead in my tracks.

"Well, if it isn’t Felix Kingsley,"

My blood ran cold. I knew that voice. It was Roman’s, but it was stripped of all its warmth, all its playful charm. It was pure menace.

I rushed back to the corner, pressing myself against the wall and peeking around it.

My father was standing stiffly, facing Roman. "Knight," his voice was tight with disdain. "I wonder which one of the twins you are? Malachi? It’s been a while."

I could see the feral, predatory look in Roman’s eyes as he grinned, a slow, terrifying stretching of his lips. "Why?" he purred, "Do you want to make sure of who it is that’ll rip out your guts?"

A horrified gasp escaped my lips before I could swallow it. Roman? The happy, excited, champagne-drinking Roman? How? Why did he sound so violent, so... so murderous?

As if he heard the tiny sound I made, his hazel eyes lifted, landing directly on me. The feral look on his face vanished, replaced in an instant by a light, hearty laugh. He turned back to my father; the murderous glint in his eyes was now hidden by a mask of playfulness. "We’re coming for you."

"Are you? I couldn’t tell," Dad snapped sarcastically. Roman ignored him, stepping past my father, his entire demeanor transforming.

"Vivi!" he called out, his voice now filled with bright excitement as he rushed toward me. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me against his side. "There you are. You took so long, I was starting to worry. I came to look for you."

He was smiling down at me, his hazel eyes warm and concerned, nothing like what I had seen a few seconds ago.

But I couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in my stomach. It suddenly seemed so clear. The Knights weren’t just after my father’s company.

They were after my father himself.