Our Bodyguard|18+

Twenty-seven

"What is this bitch doing here?" Elena bellows the minute she sees me.

My shoulders fall obnoxiously as I push out a dramatic sigh. "Just when I thought the evening was getting boring, my dear Elena is here to make it spicy as she always does. What's with you and your tendency to attack every woman your ex-husband is involved with? I just hope you won't kill me now," I mutter coolly, almost piteously, so she knows I'm not stupid.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about but you shouldn't be here after the scandal you've caused! You're not part of this family!" She's holding the skirt of a ballgown that could probably trip her otherwise.

My shoulders wrench heedlessly as I shrug her accusation with a smile. She has no idea how much I want to be anything but a part of the Kingston family.

"Mom, stop! Don't make me regret bringing you here!" Eliot is still chaperoning her—poor guy.

He should be having fun with a girl or something, even the most boring business talk would be better than this, but he's here stuck to his alcoholic mom who puts herself miserable just to have Patrick's attention.

I face her, and her eyes are almost lackluster, let alone the God-awful frown perched on her forehead. It's as if she's aged overnight, which makes me wonder what's going on with her unless her Botox doctor is on sabbatical.

"Goodness," I taunt, and beside me, Luca surrenders the fancy glass containing anything but champagne before giving me the subtle nod to sanction our little agreement and taking his leave. Back to Elena, I say, "Have you forgotten to take your medicine or something? At least go to the ladies' room and fix your goddamn makeup because, my darling, you look awful tonight."

And the upheaval in her eyes is everything I wanted. I just love to torture her—simply and plainly—because she started the war the day I married Patrick Kingston. But I'm not the one to be stepped on. Tit for Tat.

"You bitch!" she purrs, trying to attack me, and my drink ends up the victim of her yellow dress.

"Ha!" She freezes, and her hands are stuck up in the air like a mid-century princess whose dress just got ruined by a clumsy servant.

But in my defense, this was not premeditated; she just happened to bump into my glass, and I can't say I'm sorry about that.

Eliot runs a hand in his tousled hair as though he is saying, "I'm so done with the drama".

"You...did this on purpose!" Elena accuses me, and at the back of my mind, I'm focused on the fact that Patrick protected her at my expense regarding Anne's death.

Anger washes over me as I reply, "My bad. I can order you a new dress if you want me to. Free of charge, of course. That is if you are willing to wait in the hotel room until it arrives."

I'm being super bitchy right now, childish even, but I don't care. I wish I could do something to ruin all of the Kingston moods tonight, and perhaps it's what I'm going do now, starting with this old hag.

Eliot is not part of my plan, but if he gets in my way, he's all in.

"Mia, please," he pleads tiredly. "People are watching now, and I'm fucking tired of this party already. Can you save whatever you and my mom have for another time?"

Out of the respect I have for him, even though I can never understand how he turned out to be genteel despite being Patrick and Elena's son, I raise my hand in surrender as a sign of peace on my part.

"Just make sure she stays away from me... or else I won't be responsible," I state, and at the corner of my eye, I see Patrick getting off the spotlight after his speech while throwing stealth glances at our small get-together.