“Ahh. A new family in the area? Interesting.”
“Is it that unusual?”
“This is New Orleans. Everything is unusual.”
She laughed. It was light and airy. For a second, it opened something in my chest. Her laughter pried apart something I thought was sealed with darkness.
“What about you? Bride or groom?” she questioned. “Which side brings you to the party?”
“Bride,” I answered. “The bride’s brother, actually.”
“Then, I should ask you why you’re in here and not at the party with your family. I have a good excuse. I’m hiding from strangers. You’re hiding from everyone you know.”
I could see Kimble’s silhouette through the blinds. Every few seconds, he looked over his shoulder to stare through the window.
“Hiding? I don’t hide.” I took another swallow of vodka. I stared in her eyes. For a second I thought I stumbled into an abyss. I didn’t know where it could take me, and I didn’t care. I wanted to keep falling and see where I landed.
“Will your sister be upset you’re in here?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “Very.” If there was one person who needed me tonight, it was her. But I couldn’t fight the wolves who surrounded her. She was lost to me. Lost to herself. Things would be different when I ran the family. But the original families couldn’t handle a revolution now.
“You should probably go then.” She licked her lips after another sip.
“Another minute.” I leaned closer. I wanted to steal minutes. I’d take seconds if that’s what I could grab. “Does Kimble go everywhere you go?” I asked.
She nodded. “Everywhere. Well, for the last two weeks he has. He’s my keeper. An unwelcome addition to my days and nights.”
“Did something happen?” I smelled her shampoo. I inhaled the lotion off her neck. The proximity made me drunker than mixing liquors.
“Not a security threat. It’s my own fault. Just something stupid I did.”
My eyebrows rose. “What was that?”
The way she looked at me made the world shift. I’d have believed there was a fucking earthquake if someone told me there was seismic activity in New Orleans.
“The worst sin of them all. I embarrassed my father.” Her gaze darted across the room. I saw the shadow too. I jumped back.
It wasn’t Kimble barging in this time.
“Mother.” I rose from the chaise. She held the train of her gown in her right hand. It draped over her wrist in cascades of rich designer fabric. It was likely she had paid thousands for the dress. It would end up in a heap at the back of her closet and never worn again.
“What are you doing out here?” She wasn’t looking at me. However, she noticed Kennedy with a deep suspicious glare.
Kennedy stood quietly, taking the brunt of my mother’s scowl.
“Having a drink. Welcoming a new resident to town.” I grinned. “Have you met Lucien Martin’s daughter?” I introduced my mother to Kennedy. “They’ve only been in the city a few weeks. We’re getting to know each other.”
“No. I haven’t.” Her chin jerked upward.
“Kennedy, this is my mother Felicia Corban, the one and only queen of New Orleans.” My mother had a love-hate relationship with the title.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Corban. Congratulations on your daughter’s wedding.”
There was tension. Pressure. They immediately disliked each other.
“We’re about to toast your sister and Brandon. You’re needed in the house. With your family. The Castilles have been asking about you.”
“Of course.” I extended my arm toward Kennedy. “Shall we? I don’t want you to miss my father’s toast. He’s known for oratorical masterpieces.” I winked and saw Kennedy cover her mouth to hide her laughter. I was pleased she wasn’t intimidated. The girl was impressive.
Kimble followed us across the lawn and into the party. His attention on us was as lethal as my mother’s.
I didn’t care. Suddenly, my night had gotten a lot more interesting.
3
Kennedy
Who was Knight Corban? Why did I take his arm and let him lead me away from the only sanctuary I had found? The pool house was boring and empty. I couldn’t make bad decisions and end up online as long as I kept a healthy distance from everyone. Why was I standing with his family during the bride’s engagement toast?
I smiled lightly while clutching a glass of champagne. The vodka had already warmed my muscles. His hand rested on my hip casually. As if it belonged there. As if we had done this a hundred times. It was exciting. Thrilling. The way he navigated my body.
A member of the band tapped out a drumroll to gather the rest of the guests to the ballroom.
A few minutes later a man in a tuxedo climbed the steps to the stage and took the microphone from the lead singer with a smile.
The audience began to clap. I heard someone whisper behind me. “Raphael worked so hard on this deal. He looks happy.”
“The Castilles offered him a lot for Seraphina. One of the highest bids I’ve ever heard. A marvelous trade.”
Knight didn’t flinch at the words. Although, I was certain he heard them as clearly as I did.
My stomach rolled. I wasn’t naïve. I knew how family weddings worked. They weren’t entered into over a candlelit dinner with a surprise proposal and a princess-cut diamond. They were crafted in the back rooms of hotels or cigar bars. They were broken down by family wealth and stock. By potential grandchildren. By property. By money. By greed.
Mr. Corban smiled at the guests. He lifted his champagne in the air. “First, Felicia and I want to thank Margaret and Louis. What a wonderful evening. Beautiful. Thank you for throwing such a wonderful party. Brandon is lucky to have you as parents. You have raised a son to be proud of. A man who will one day be the head of his own family with Seraphina by his side. Having a son is a blessing. An only son
