PULSE [H.S]

024

"The only real prison is fear, and the only real freedom is freedom from fear." — Aung San Suu Kyi

Despite Harry's bickering, I follow the man.

He leads me through the ballroom, and a lot of heads turn to look at me as I pass them. There's a knot in my stomach, and I'm trying to focus on not tripping over my own two feet. I felt more comfortable walking around when Harry was next to me. Now I feel vulnerable without him.

The head table is elevated above the rest, about four stairs higher. The table is a large rectangle, unlike the circular tables below. The guy leads me around it, pulling a chair out for me, directly next to Elias.

Elias's smile as he meets my eyes makes my body go into fight or flight mode. His features are so sharp, so threatening. I don't know how I ever believed the kind façade he put on the first time I met him.

"You look lovely, Miss Reeves," he says as I sit down in the chair next to him. He takes my hand, kissing the back of it like I am royalty. My stomach churns. Then he pushes a strand of my hair behind my shoulder, saying, "What beautiful long hair you have."

"Thank you," I say tightly. I fold my hands in my lap to keep myself from shattering his jaw.

He pours me a glass of wine before pouring some in his own. Some of the other people at this table glance at me, but they're all engaged in their own conversations. Elias asks me, "Do you like red?"

"I prefer white," I say, almost wincing after the words leave my mouth.

He chuckles. "I don't really like wine at all." He raises his glass, looking at me. I take my glass, lightly clinking it against his, and then we both take a sip. The wine tastes better than any red wine I've ever had. He says, "This is a $100,000 bottle of wine that was gifted to me, so I feel obligated to drink it."

My eyes widen, and I quickly swallow the wine before I accidentally spit it out. I say, "That's an absurd amount of money for a bottle of wine."

He laughs again. I take another gulp of wine.

"So, Miss Reeves," he says, directing his full attention at me, "you've had quite an unfortunate life so far, haven't you?" I swallow, picking at the skin on one of my fingers. He says, "What's been the hardest part?"

The question makes me think. He's not wrong, my life has been pretty rough for as long as I can remember, but nothing compares to being roped into a drug cartel. I say honestly, "This."

"This? Really? I didn't think the sudden rise in your bank account would be taken negatively," he says.

"No, not that part. Thank you, by the way," I say, and he gives me a small smile. I'm trying to choose my words carefully here. I say, "It's been a big adjustment to be pulled into a violent world I didn't even know existed."

Elias considers my words and nods. "You'll get used to the violence, sweetheart. This business tends to harden you after a while."

The nausea builds inside of me. The last thing I want is to get used to violence or become numb to it. That's not who I am, and if I ever regard murder as normal, everything about who I am would be gone.

I order the smoked salmon when a waiter comes to take our order, even though the thought of eating right now makes me feel unwell. Clove did say the food at these things is incredible, so we'll see what happens.

My eyes scan the ballroom, locking with Harry's almost instantly. I can practically see the green of them from across the room. His face is twisted with anger, and he looks so pissed off that I wonder if all of the glass in the room is about to shatter.