Chapter 22 I prefer to hold money
Chapter 22 I prefer to hold money
NICHOLAS
Nicholas hated fixations.
It was the reason why he never did drugs, regardless of how much he had longed not to feel as a teenager.
His Mamushka’s death, his father’s gambling, the debts, his father needing alcohol as a crutch and using Nicholas as an outlet for his frustrations had been one of the darkest moments of his life.
His father was never a good man; but Nicholas had watched him turn to the devil.
As his businesses failed, the father that he joined on early morning jogs, who taught him how to drive and grill the best steak slowly receded while the demon came out to play more often.
The lessons became worse, more twisted, more agonizing…
The stub of a cigar against a trembling body, lonely nights in the dark cellar with broken bones, more hours at the pool…
The pain had been misery, but his heart that felt and felt had almost killed him. It was hell.
Until one day Nicholas had woken up and it was silent. Nothing.
It was like his heart quitted on him. Refused to process anything; grief, happiness, anger… nothing.
He was just a walking money grubbing dead man now and he preferred it.
Until the woman across the room under the spilled light of crystal chandeliers. He didn’t know what she thought she was doing in the sea of silk dresses and tailored tuxedos but he was sure she didn’t belong there.
If she thought this would garner her the kind of support she needed to defeat Scarlett then she was out of her mind and was clearly just dumb.
The men had their eyes on her body and the women were sniffing for gossip, just like him they had heard about her calling off her engagement and were on her like stew on rice.
Nicholas wasn’t one to judge, at least they knew what they wanted from her unlike him.
Although he had seen her in her halter neck red dress and had forgotten how to breathe it was merely biology. What he felt for her and why he wanted to be around her was something that he had no word for and yet had left him with an itch that was making him do crazy things.
He didn’t have to be at this gala; even as a gesture of goodwill. Regardless of the invite he had been sent, he knew that the organizers didn’t count on seeing him.
But ever since the Astor heiress had returned she had been showing up at events like this so he knew she’d be here, hence he had shown up too.
Nicholas noticed that Iris was gone at the same time a tall man looked up from the conversation he was having and caught his eyes. He was one of the organizers of the event.
Mr. Liam’s eyes widened when he saw Nicholas. Shock colored his features for a minute before he composed himself and made a beeline for him.
After countless efforts by people in his circle to socialize with him had failed, Nicholas knew that the only people who still tried to strike up conversations with him were fawners willing to bend backwards for some kind of favor from him.
On a normal day he’d stay back and watch with dry amusement, perhaps even listen to their negotiation. That his preferred currency was money, didn’t mean that he didn’t enjoy it when men humiliated themselves in front of him.
But not tonight. He glanced at Silas who was beside him and he nodded.
Like it was second nature, he grabbed a champagne flute and closed the distance between him and the sauntering man.
When Silas crashed into him and started apologizing, Nicholas snuck out amidst the commotion.
He was going to leave. Done with whatever madness that had led him here in the first place.
But then he saw her.
She stood on the landing, one hand on the railing and a wine bottle on the other. Her brown eyes were distant and sad.
He must have made a sound because she turned and when she smiled, it was enough confirmation that she was drunk.
Nobody smiled at his entrance. At least not anymore.
“It’s you,” she rasped.
“Yes,” Nicholas replied tightly. “The disappointment.”
“You hold a grudge?” She arched her brow.
“I prefer to hold money.” He deadpanned. “It’s tangible.”
She took a swig from the wine bottle and he tried to grab it but she swatted his hand. “I’m not drunk.” She shook her head. “Yet.”
He nodded and took his place beside her.
And when she stared at him expectantly, he lifted one of his shoulders in a shrug. “You’re free to go ahead.” He said. “Till you’re drunk.”
She stared then chuckled, shaking her head. “And somehow I prefer you to everybody in that room.”
“Not charming enough?”
“Too charming in fact.” She paused.
He stood there beside her in silence for more than a minute.
“I don’t belong here. You were right. Although I’m yarn with potential, it is unfair when I’m competing with cashmere shawls and merino wool sweaters.”
I blinked. ”I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“It sounds dumb now when I say it,” she held my eyes. “But when he said it… it was the smartest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Nicholas doubted that anyone could make her nonsensical slur sound like wisdom but held his tongue.
“I’d never have pegged you as a canine enthusiast.”
“I’m not.” Nicholas replied.
“Why are you here then?” She blinked. “This fundraiser is for a dog shelter.”
He wanted to tell her that he didn’t know what the fundraiser was about when he had cleared his evening schedule just to be in it, but instead said, “People like us don’t attend charities because we care about the cause.”
“I noticed.” She replied, then laughed mockingly. “Christ, I’m truly out of my depth here.” She spat out, then looked at Nicholas, her eyes watery. “I’m scared. I think I’m going to lose.”
Then she burst into tears.