Pyro

Chapter 5

Windows spanned the wall opposite of the ballroom's entrance, allowing silver moonlight to flood the room. The chandeliers casted a warm glow, but the pale light seemed to battle the warmth, choosing to cast the guests in a veracious perspective. Jawlines were honed, eyes held a dangerous glint to them, and something unsaid lurked in each guest. It was almost as if the night revealed the true monsters that lurked within everyone.

Every guest was a monster- a haughty, horrid, monster.

And my father was in the center.

He basked in the attention, oozing arrogance and a sanctimonious, holier-than-thou, attitude. He was a leech, thriving off of energy from others.

Guests fawned over him, bequeathing their condolences for Rebecca's death. He nodded solemnly and thanked them, spewing bullshit about how her death was "much too soon" and that she was a "very bright young woman".

Why where they offering condolences to him? He didn't know her, let alone care! Couldn't they tell what a horrible person he was?

No- they knew. They simply didn't care.

Unable to stomach the foul scene any longer, my gaze drifted over the partygoers, dressed in lustrous jewels and fancy dresses and suits. I searched the guests for the telepathy man, but sighed. Greeting each guest and matching their names to guest list yielded no results- meaning everyone was who they said they were.

No one could've snuck in, nor could they have impersonated anyone else.

A man hefting a tray loaded with champagne glasses strode by, and I snatched one off. I debated guzzling it down and swirled the drink in my glass, pondering.

"What do you think you're doing?" my father hissed, wrenching the drink out of my hand. He let out a yelp at the champagne that nearly sloshed over the sides and scanned his suit for damage. He sighed, relieved. "You agreed to personally meet the board members, yet here you are, skulking like some petulant child. Go greet them."

I thumbed the edge of my cufflinks, irritated, and said, "Yes, I will greet them. Later."

He glowered. "You will greet them now. Stop acting like a little brat."

I scowled. "I'll greet them later. Right now, I'm not feeling so well. And unless you want me to appear ill or unhealthy in front of your board members, I suggest you agree to let me meet them later."

He furrowed his brows and scowled. "You will meet them regardless of how you feel. If not, you can expect to sleep elsewhere until you get over yourself and your dead girlfriend." He stalked off, smoothing down his suit, and immediately fell into a conversation.

Bastard.

In the moment, I couldn't help but remember the man's words. He'd offered me a family.

That sleaze, also known as my father, wasn't family, and my mother, well... she had other things on her mind. My only family, my brother, died years ago, leaving me in a shattered household.

The only one I considered family was Quinn.

Some slipped behind me, sending chills down my spine. "You'll ruin your suit at that rate, sir," someone said.

I glanced behind me; the frizzy-haired maid gestured to my sleeve, where I'd fastened and unfastened my cufflinks, crumpling the sleeve and blemishing the cuffs. "Right," I muttered, dropping my hands to my sides. Stupid nervous tick, I thought.

"I notice you have been rather irritated, sir. May I ask why?" she inquired.

I snorted. "You may not."