Page 84 of The Devil of Downtown

“Come on, Loverboy,” Mitzy trills, weaving toward me through the haze of the smoke machines. Her eyes are glassy; her smile sloppy. “You’ve been brooding on the edge of the dance floor for way too long.”

Julian lifts his glass in a silentgood luck,and I mouth afuck youover my shoulder before following her into the crush of bodies and pulsing lights.

Mitzy hooks her nails into my waist and drags me indecently close, perfume thick as syrup, false lashes fanning over her half-lidded stare.

“No date tonight?” she purrs.

“Not one I’d bring here,” I say, clipped.

“Oh, so thereissomeone?” she pouts, lower lip pushed out in a way she probably thinks is sexy.

She actually looks disappointed—like this entire circus isn’t celebrating her own engagement.

“That’s my business, Mitzy.”

Ivy flashes through my mind—her laugh, her mouth, her everything, the way she looks at me like she hasn’t figured out she should run. A half-smile tugs at my lips before I catch myself.

At the moment, Ivy is my perfect secret, untarnished by the grime in my life.

“They can’t be that important if you’re not displaying them proudly on your arm.”

I wince; of all people, Mitzy’s jab lands harder than I expect. I barely have a second to swallow it before her hand is sliding down my stomach, heading somewhere I don’t want this to go.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Mitzy?”

“Oh, relax. Don’t you want a little fun? It’s a party after all.”

“Yes,yourengagement party.”

“But you’re single...”

“I never said that.”

“If she’s not here tonight, then...” her fingers creep even lower before my hand closes around her wrist, rage burning beneath the surface.

“Do you want to know what I think, Mitzy?” I say, voice scraping rough. “I think you’d love it if I shoved you against that wall and fucked you loud enough for everyone to hear.”

She releases a breathy whimper, no denial in sight.

“Then do everyone a favor and walk away from this sham of a marriage.”

Her face twists with anger before she’s rescued by Dad, who spins towards us, eager to trade one nightmare for another.

“Dane,” he crows, fake smile dialed to the max. “I think it’s about time you danced with Leandra. How can you keep such a beautiful woman waiting?”

“Leandra,” I grind out. “What a surprise.”

This night just keeps getting worse and worse.

Mitzy slopes back to Dad, clearly irritated, but she’s the least of my concerns.

“Dane, I was hoping to see you,” she says, her voice tentative as we sway to a slower beat.

I brace. “Leandra—”

“Look, I know what you are going to say, Dane, that you can’t give me what I want. But I want to say I was wrong.”

“Wrong?”