He started to step forward, but Fiona was faster—hooking her arm through his.
"Blake, thank you for standing up for me. That was terrifying."
He clicked his tongue and pinched her cheek, indulgent. "What do you want as compensation?"
Fiona beamed, plucked the ring from his hand, and tossed it into the trash.
His expression shifted. She immediately let her eyes redden with hurt. "Was it that important?"
She made a show of reaching into the trash can. "Fine, I'll fish it out. Ten years of history—even if she hurt me, I don't want to make things hard for you."
Blake caught her by the waist, his heart melting completely. "Nothing's more important than you. Don't dirty your hands. Here—take the black card. Buy whatever you want."
Fiona huffed and refused. "I don't want your money. I only love you."
"Right, right. I'm the one who wants to spend money on my wife. If you won't let me, I'll feel terrible."
Only then did she accept it, feigning reluctance.
Three days later, I was dragged out of the detention cell in a daze.
They brought me straight to a private lounge at a club.
I pushed the door open. There on the sofa, dead center, Blake and Fiona were sharing a grape between their lips.
The grape slipped. They fell into a deep, tangled kiss.
The hooting and whistling from the men and women around them was loud enough to bring the ceiling down.
I didn't know how long I stood there before Blake finally noticed me in the doorway.
His eyes locked on my gaunt, colorless face. His expression darkened instantly. "What happened? Did someone give you trouble in there?"
Before I could say a word, Fiona let out a sharp little laugh.
"You really know how to play a man's heartstrings, Miss Sullivan. With your history with Blake, who would dare lay a finger on you? That sickly makeup is incredibly realistic, by the way. Must've taken you ages."
Blake had been about to stand. At her words, he settled back down.
He tapped out a cigarette, leaned into the lighter Fiona held up for him, and lit it.
Smoke curled around his features, blurring them. Only his eyes were clear, fixed on me with barely concealed impatience.
"Since you've had time to reflect, come apologize to Fiona."
Fiona sat nestled in Blake's arms, dressed head to toe in white, the picture of innocence. She swirled a glass of something potent, its proof unknown.
"I don't actually want to make things difficult for you."