Chapter 4
Zara wants to crawl into a corner like a wounded animal after hearing the nasty words spoken by the two men. Everything that came out of their mouth was like darts of poison that penetrate her skin and seem to slowly suffocate her.
Briefly she wonders what she has done for them to speak of her with such disdain but their voices do not sound familiar so she has to assume that they are repeating gossip.
For the millionth time tonight she wished for Mila to be by her side. Her cousin would know how to distract her, might even go up to those men to give them a piece of her mind and say something cutting in return. She quickly checks her phone for a message from Mila but there was nothing.
She can't decide if that is a good or bad sign.
“Where have you been? I told you I wanted you to meet someone tonight.” Her uncle's grating voice brings her back to reality.
"Who am I supposed to meet? Will it take long? I’m really tired." The question slips out before Zara can stop herself. It's getting harder by the minute to keep her composure.
Not only is she worried sick about Mila, but what she overheard earlier has her gut churning,making her feel ill. She should be used to the venomous things people say about her and yet this time it got under her skin, made her feel dirty and small.
Zara is sure that it hadn't been mentioned before but she should have known that her uncle had an ulterior motive for bringing her to this gala tonight.
"You just shut your mouth and do as you're told for once. Do not make me angry or there will be consequences."
The grip on her arm tightens, she is going to have bruises in the morning.
It takes every ounce of willpower not to drop to the floor and curl up into a tight ball.
They walk across the ballroom, her uncle having no regard for her inability to correctly gauge distances or objects that might impede their progress. She stumbles twice but manages to stay on her feet.
"Ah, Mr.Monroe, just the man I was looking for."
At her uncle's words Zara freezes, unable to move another step. Her breathing becomes erratic as she realizes that this is the man she had a crush on for months.
On the rare occasions that Karson Monroe and his business partner Kirk Westwood attend functions like these, Zara could never stop herself from staring at the older man.
Mila has been teasing her relentlessly about her infatuation and she wishes that her cousin was here now. Mila has a way of charming people and distracting their attention from Zara that makes the omega feel less intimidated in the presence of strangers.
Despite the fact that Zara is taller with her heels, another of her shortcomings - as she had been told countless times - she always feels like he can hide behind Mila when situations in public become too overwhelming. Tonight, though, she will have to fend for herself.
She takes a deep breath and tries not to stare at the alpha in front of her.
Dark, wavy, too long hair is carelessly swept up in a half ponytail that exposes ears with multiple piercings on each side. Without turning her head too much Zara can only see one side of the alpha’s face, but that side looks like it was sculpted by the moon goddess herself. Smooth, honey coloured skin with lips that look firm but inviting, a little mole under the bottom lip adding to the temptation.
Eyes that seem too innocent for the chiseled features, but also hold a ruthless gleam in them. His clothes are black, just a tight fitting formal trousers and a simple black button down shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose the tattoos on his arms. The way he looks, the way he dresses is a study in contrast, the gold Rolex watch on his wrist a reminder that this man has money and therefore power.
The attire insults all the rules of polite society but Karson does not look like a man who got to where he is by caring about other people’s opinions.
Zara picks up the smell of chocolate again and tries to surreptitiously glance around to see if they are standing close to the buffet table.
Before she gets a chance to figure out where exactly the scent is coming from, Karson steps closer to where she and her uncle were standing and looks at them with a cold smile.
"Samuel Hartman, I didn't realize you were attending tonight, and in such illustrious company no less. Won't you introduce me to your companion?"
There is a sneer in Karson’s voice that would have taken her aback if she didn't notice three things in quick succession.
First is that the alpha did not address an elder with the proper respect customary in polite society, the second is that his voice is not quite as deep as Zara had imagined it and the third is both his voice and his scent are that of the man she overheard ten minutes ago on the other side of the ballroom.
The same voice that spoke about her with nothing but disdain and contempt, calling her a waste of space.
Her legs start shaking and almost give out. Only the thought of what the punishment for a scene in public would be stopped her from sinking to the floor or turning around and walking out of the ballroom.
"I want to introduce you to my niece, Zara Storme. An Omega”
The ingratiating whine in her uncle's voice almost makes her throw up.
She is more than an omega, or at least she could be, if given the chance.
"It’s … nice to meet you." The pause in Karson's words doesn't escape Zara.
"It is nice to meet you, too." She doesn't sound as if she means it and for once she didn’t care.
He gives Karson a cold stare.
"Zara is very pleased to meet you, I assure you. She just celebrated her 23rd birthday a few months ago."
Her uncle’s sharp tug on her arm makes her stumble forward and it is only thanks to Karson's quick reflexes that she does not fall.
"Be careful, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." There is something in his voice that
Zara does not like it at all.
The grip on her arm is firm but not as bruising as her uncle’s.
The chocolate scent intensifies and has her senses reeling. How can such a despicable man smell so divine? Zara steps back, not thanking the older man for his help, not caring that she is rude.
She turns around to her uncle, barely looking at him and saying quietly: "I feel somewhat unwell, may I be excused to freshen up."
Despite her inner turmoil she manages to sound demure enough so her uncle hopefully will not make her suffer the consequences of her slip up.
When the old man waves her away impatiently and turns back to Karson to strike up a conversation, she hurries off to the back of the ballroom without a backward glance, only letting out a relieved breath once she is locked in a bathroom stall.
For a moment she leans against the cold tiled wall, closing her eyes in mortification.
Her uncle might as well hang a ‘for sale’ sign around her neck. She is not sure how much more of this she can endure.