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Chapter 529
Chapter 529:
Lucian arrived. “Everything all right here p>
Liam turned to Lucian. He raised his voice.
“You know, Graves,” Liam said loudly, “I always knew you liked my leftovers. But I didn’t think you’d parade them around like a prize p>
The conversation nearby stopped. Heads turned.
Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me p>
Skye, Liam sneered, looking at her with mock pity. “She was always a gold digger. I guess she just upgraded to a bigger shovel p>
Skye gasped. It was acting, but the words still stung. “Liam p>
“What?” Liam shouted. “It’s the truth! You sold yourself for a necklace p>
He threw the contents of his glass onto the floor. Whiskey splashed onto Lucian’s shoes.
The room went silent.
Lucian stared at his ruined shoes. Then he looked at Liam. The violence in his eyes was terrifying.
“Vargo,” Lucian said softly.
Guards materialized out of nowhere.
“Take Mr. Kensington to the basement,” Lucian ordered. “And break his fingers on the way p>
Chaos erupted. Guards grabbed Liam. Liam struggled, shouting curses at Skye.
“You’re a whore, Skye! A whore p>
Skye covered her mouth, pretending to be shocked. But under her hand, she whispered, “Thank you p>
As the guards dragged Liam away, the entire room watched. Lucian was fixated on Liam, savoring the victory.
Skye slipped backward, into the crowd, toward the service door that led to the lobby. She had her distraction.
The service corridor was quiet.
R𝘦ѕpe𝖼𝘵 th𝘦 𝗼𝗋i𝘨i𝗇a𝗅 с𝗈𝗻𝘁𝖾𝘯𝗍 𝗳𝗋𝗼𝗺 𝘣e𝗅n𝗼𝘷𝘦lѕ.𝖼𝘰𝗺
Skye kicked off her heels and ran barefoot down the hallway, the red dress rustling around her legs.
She reached the door to the lobby and cracked it open. The lobby was empty. Security had been pulled to the ball to deal with the “Kensington Incident p>
The statue of Midas stood in the center of the fountain. It was hideous and magnificent.
Skye ran to the fountain and climbed over the rim, stepping into the shallow water.
She reached the base of the statue.
Lasers.
She took a compact mirror from her clutch and dusted some face powder into the air. Faint red lines appeared—a grid.
She had to be fast.
She twisted her body, sliding under the first beam. The dress was tight, restricting her movement.
Rip.
The silk tore at the thigh. Good. More range of motion.
She climbed up the statue’s pedestal.
The eyes. They were ten feet up.
She grabbed Midas’s golden arm and pulled herself up. The metal was slippery. She reached the head.
