Page 73 of Cruel Delights
Lyra stands in the t-shirt I’ve given her to wear, looking almost as flabbergasted as I am. Standing opposite her is Celeste, with a nasty smirk and glint in her eye. Before I can think up a response that’s as scathing as the situation calls for, Lyra breaks the silent stand off between the three of us.
She turns to me and says, “I thought I recognized you. The Midnight Society Party. Kaden, you were there.”
17Lyra
Eyes Don’t Lie - Isabel LaRosa
“Get out of my fucking penthouse, Celeste,” Kaden snarls in a flash of immediate rage.
“Baby,” the waif answers with a coddling smile. “Why aren’t you happy to see me? Though I should be the one upset. You have this prostitute girl in your penthouse wearing your clothes. Are you cheating on me or is this your way of telling me you want a threesome? I am very open minded and always willing to fulfill your fantasies. Even with the likes ofher.”
“Prostitute?” I choke out. My brows knit and I take a step toward her. “Who the hell are you calling a prost—”
“I said get the fuck out!” Kaden bellows. His outburst drowns out my offended words. He rushes past me, cutting me off, and snatches the woman named Celeste up by the arm. She winces and shrieks that he’s hurting her, but he presses on.
I distantly trail behind, lost as to what is happening.
This started with a noise I heard from the bathroom. I had been drying off after a nice soak in the bath when it sounded like someone other than Kaden was rummaging in his kitchen. Celeste stood by the galley cabinets, digging inside. She mistook me for Kaden and spun around clutching a skillet, asking if I’d like her to cook breakfast.
When she saw me, it was like her world shattered. The crazed smile fell off her face and her forest-green eyes lost their zeal. Her features morphed into pure loathing, and she sneered at me like I was roadkill.
“You,” she spat. “Of course. It makes sense.”
I had no clue what she was talking about, but I did recognize her—it was the bitch in the emerald dress and silver mask from the night of the party. All of a sudden, I was transported back to that night; a night I’ve largely tried to put behind me.
She had confronted me as I stood by the redwood Steinway. An unspeakably handsome man was behind her. He, too, wore a mask, but I knew he was good-looking by what little I could see of him. His hair fell in loose waves he tucked behind his ears. Effortless confidence like a sexy male model in an ad.
Kaden.
It was Kaden.
Does that mean Kaden saw me on stage? That he knows what happened to me? What I did to the man who shoved his dick in my mouth? Why hasn’t he said anything?!
Celeste seemed to pick up on my realization. Her sneer deepened. “I can see the gears turning in that skull of yours. Yes, you have it right, sweetie. Kaden saw it all. The man whose dick you bit off—mycousin, Klein Fairchild—is out of the hospital, and he’s pissed.”
Kaden had interrupted us. I was still making sense of what she said when he appeared and discovered Celeste had somehow let herself inside his penthouse.
As he drags her to the door, I stand back and watch.
“But, baby… baby, please!”
“You are pushing me,” he grits out, shoving her past the threshold. “I told you what would happen if you did this again—”
Her sweet act vanishes, and she scoffs. “Are you sure you want your little prostitute girlfriend to find out about your bad habits—”
“ARGH!” Kaden roars like a murderous beast. He slams shut the door with such force, it reverberates against the frame.
His anger pulses through him and exists in the space between us. I hover uncertainly, staring at the rippled muscle on his back, wondering if I should grab my things and go.
He breathes out a ragged breath that would produce fire if humanly possible.
Yeah… he’s pissed.
I should go.
As I turn to do just that, I remember why I shouldn’t. Kaden owes me answers.
“What was that about?”