Rouge: Act 3 – Scene 30

Lacey

His deep voice and Irish accent heat the back of my neck, warming my body inside and out. Maeve’s eyes nearly pop out of her head as she stares over my shoulder. I already know who it is, and despite the fact that Kian lied to me about my father’s health, his presence settles my nerves, like when my mind clears before I step out on stage.

When I turn around, Kian’s there in an all-black tuxedo with his hand out, waiting for me. The only pop of color he’s wearing is his red silk tie and a red devil mask. It’s the same one he wore at Rouge, giving me delicious déjà vu, and my core flutters at the memory.

“Oh yeah, she’ll have a dance, won’t you, Lacey? You can’t be rude and say no, right, Maeve?”

Roxy’s a fucking saint. She’s effortlessly forced Maeve into a corner with formality. What Garde woman says no to a man?

“I’d be delighted,” I answer primly before letting him take my hand and lead me to the dance floor.

The previous song slows and rolls into a sultry cover of “Fire On Fire” by Sam Smith. I recognize it instantly when the lead singer begins to croon into his microphone. Strings carry the melody as Kian rests his hand on my lower back over the crisscrossing laces. The tips of his fingers sneak underneath one of the straps, touching my bare skin and making me shiver. As I place one gloved hand on his shoulder and hold his raised hand with the other, my heart thrums in my chest at the possession in his gaze.

Once the song begins to flow, we glide into step and begin our waltz. Normally, I would lean away from him at a slight angle, but not only would my lower left back muscles protest if I tried, but I also don’t want to put any distance between us. I follow his lead, letting his body press into mine to guide my steps back, left, front, and right.

He moves us about in long, elegant, flowing steps into the middle of the floor. We’re hidden from the rest of the party by the other dancers and as much as I’ve been craving being alone with him, the questions about my father still burn in my mind and I can’t hold in my accusation any longer. My eyes narrow as I brace myself for yet another betrayal from someone I care about.

“You lied to me, Kian.”

He jerks back as if I’ve slapped him. “Lied? About what?”

“Monroe told me my father was attacked. And that he might get the death penalty if he’s convicted.” As soon as the words leave my lips, understanding softens Kian’s features and my heart twists. “So either you never went to see my father, or you lied when you told me he was okay—”

“He is okay now, and he told me to tell you that he was okay. He didn’t want his daughter to worry about him. Once we figure out how to free your father, none of the rest will matter.”

I scoff. “He has a lot of nerve telling me not to worry about him while also making me marry a monster.”

Kian’s frustrated huff flutters against my forehead. “I agree, but your father begged me to keep his secret. I didn’t want to, but I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to keep it for long. My plan was to tell you once everything was sorted and you were out of Monroe’s—wait…” Kian’s brow furrows above his mask. “Did your father tell him about us?”

My eyes widen and I shake my head. “I don’t think so. If he had, I highly doubt I’d be alive right now, let alone dancing before a wedding that can never happen.”

“Good. Then he still trusts me to find answers.”

“What do you mean?”

He meets my gaze again. “If your father didn’t trust me, he might’ve used that information to bargain with Monroe. But he hasn’t, which means that he’s trusting me to free both of you.”

“Should he trust you? Have you found anything?”

“I’ve been working with my contacts to find answers. I tried to update you through texts, but Monroe told me that he has your mobile.”

“Monroe told you? When the hell did you see him?”

“This morning. The gobshite was in my family’s casino. I went down while my men were working on figuring out how to get into his suites and I kept him busy until they texted me. One thing I did learn from Monroe himself is that multiple families were opposed to our marriage.”

“Multiple families?”

Kian nods and his face darkens, the mask making him look more deadly than usual. “I think he was sobering up, so I couldn’t get much out of him. But he made a snide remark that the families would’ve never allowed our marriage because we would have been too powerful against everyone. They wanted to punish your father for overstepping. This is more than a few people framing him for crimes they did. I’m afraid this is a Garde-wide conspiracy.” His eyes dart around the room before he whispers even lower. “And we have no idea who’s against us.”

The song begins to crescendo and I raise my voice slightly. “Jesus, what’re we going to do?”

“I have a plan in motion right at this very moment.”

He spins me outward, and air hisses from my lungs as I use the muscles that the Baron abused yesterday in the limo. I stutter-step back to him, attempting to spin, but he pulls me gingerly and holds me in front of him with my back against his chest.

“Christ, Lace, are you okay? Did that bastard hurt you?” He embraces me, cupping my bare shoulder with one hand while his other presses my hips into his, using his large frame to wrap around me and comfort me.

“Shh, shh,” I whisper up to him and close my eyes, trying to block out the pain. He’s forgotten to keep up the pretense of our dance, so I step from side to side to get him to sway with me. Breathing slowly through my nose helps center me before I speak again. “I’m fine, really. The move shocked me is all.”

I want to sink into him, to give in to his warmth. His fingertips resting over my lower belly are dangerously close to the apex of my thighs. His other hand glides down my bicep in a protective caress and I lean against him with a moan.

“Fuck, tine,” his lips murmur against my temple. “You can’t be sounding like that right now. I’m barely resisting temptation as it is.”

My eyes snap open to see if anyone is spying on us, but the dance floor is packed and they don’t seem to notice anyone past their own partners. We’re shadows in the dim light, thankfully, but still playing with fire.

“We should be more careful,” I whisper before sucking in a breath and twirling around in Kian’s arms

The move was intended to show that I’m okay, but once we reposition our hands to continue our waltz, all I can muster is a brittle, plastic smile. The swell of the song warns me that his touch is almost gone, weighing anxiety like an anvil on my chest and making it hard to breathe. I blink rapidly to keep dangerous tears from falling down my cheeks and I duck my head away from anyone who could see.

“Bloody hell,” Kian curses above me before whispering against my hair. “You are not fine. Follow me after the song ends.”

I nod quickly and barely contain my sniffle. His smoky sweet amber scent fills my nostrils, soothing me until the last beats of the song drum out into the crowd. Everyone claps and I slip into old habits as I do a modified curtsy that doesn’t require me to bend too low.

Kian bows and kisses my hand, his eyes swirling with emotion as his warm breath caresses my skin.

“A pleasure, Miss O’Shea.”

The sensual way he enunciates O’Shea makes my belly flip.

Just weeks ago, I fought against him saying “McKennon,” but now I crave to hear my new name with his deep voice and accent again. I bite my lip to keep from smiling at the thought and his eyes darken as they flick to my mouth. He curses and I quickly exit the dance floor before he has time to even stand, making sure we don’t get lost in each other again.

I try to gather my wits about me as I walk toward the group of D-list celebrities and politicians surrounding the Baron, but I also angle myself in such a way that I keep Kian in my periphery.

Maeve stands beside her brother and her harsh glare zeroes in on me. Her eyes narrow on mine, but something calls her back to the conversation and her face softens for her potential audience, ready to speak when prompted. There’s no doubt in my mind that she hasn’t even gotten a word in yet.

A few women actually take the time to congratulate me along the way, although I’m not sure how sincere they are. Every woman here knows signing a marriage license with the Baron could be signing my own death warrant. I thank them politely, mentally keeping tabs on the ones that are viciously gleeful rather than somber.

My mother leaves the group before I reach it, her face still plastered with a fake smile even as she grabs my arm to roughly steer me to the side of the room. When we’re away from listening ears, she whirls around on me, fear and anger contorting her face.

“Lacey, what were you doing with him?” she hisses.

I’m surprised by the amount of emotion in her voice. She’s not one to show it, even in private company, let alone in the corner of a ballroom with hundreds of Garde members and high society lurking about.

“What’re you talking about?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Kian McKennon. Maeve told me he took you to the dance floor. You’re lucky Monroe didn’t see you go with him or he would’ve had a fit. I couldn’t find you in there to stop you without bringing more attention to your foolishness. What were you thinking dancing with him? And why is he here? He wasn’t even invited!”

“H-he asked me and you told me to dance with other men—”

“Not Kian McKennon! Never a McKennon. They’re our enemy. Their family is dying to be in charge. You know that!”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her if she knows why we hate them, but if she doesn’t, I won’t be the one to break it to her. Especially not when she’s already pissed at me.

“It was just a dance, Mom.”

She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter. Acting so foolishly the night before your wedding can only end poorly. I’m only trying to protect you.”

“No, you’re only trying to control me and you’ve done it my entire life,” My voice is an angry whisper, and I can’t dial it back as I keep going. “I’m the Red Camellia, the Garde princess, but all I’m good for is raising a man’s status by lying on my back.”

“Lacey, you can’t talk like that and you can’t be seen with Kian McKennon, either. It only starts rumors.”

“Would it be so bad if I was with Kian instead?”

She scoffs. “For you? No. Not at first. But once those puppy-love eyes dim and you see him for what he is, another ruthless bastard like his father and all the rest, you’ll look around and realize you have no one left because your actions got your father killed in jail.”

My eyes widen and my chest caves in. “Mom… it wouldn’t be my—”

“Be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Whatever you’re doing with Kian. End it. You don’t want to sacrifice your father’s life just to be treated like a whore. Once your beauty fades, you’ll be set aside for a newer, prettier model. If you want to ruin your life, fine. You’re an adult now and I can’t stop you. But don’t bring your father and me down with you. Now smile and pretend like you haven’t potentially cost your father his life.”

She drags me back to the group in a daze. Her warnings ring through my mind, drowning out all other conversations until the Baron shouts toward me.

“Ah, there’s my dancing flower.” He offers his hand and I place mine in his mechanically, letting him pull me into him.

Many of the men in the group wear masquerade masks. Devils, jesters, and various other creatures leer at me with disgusting, knowing grins. I don’t know what Monroe’s been saying about me, but I highly doubt my mother should’ve heard it.

The whiskers of his goatee poke the shell of my ear. My muscles tense and I try not to recoil as he whispers.

“Not a word. I’d rather forget you than hear you. Do you understand?”

I bite my tongue to keep from replying as I move to stand behind him and his sister.

“Now, what was I saying?”

I’m one thousand percent sure he didn’t forget a word he said, but a man with a jester mask reminds him like he’s expecting a cookie for remembering, and the Baron launches right back into his story.

I’ve lost track of Kian and a pit of worry gnaws at my stomach, until I spy Roxy. She’s twirling her hair, trying to flirt with the bartender, but she catches my eye immediately. The bartender hands her a drink and she knocks it back before prancing to my side, only slowing down to mingle her way into the group. Once she reaches me, she whispers low enough so that no one else can hear.

“I saw you-know-who head toward the hallway. Do I need to do a little distraction? Like old times? These men are so much easier than your bodyguards.”

I want to laugh, but I’m on the verge of tears after my conversation with my mother. The added burden that my father’s life rests on my shoulders is making me buckle under the pressure.

Glancing around, I quickly find the hallway that she’s talking about. I face the group again and analyze their posture and faces. My mom and Maeve are enthralled by whatever the Baron is boasting about now, and once again, I’m invisible beside my would-be husband. It’s perfect.

I give her a subtle nod.

She winks back at me and mouths, “Showtime.”