When he didn't return, even after the grace period she'd accounted for, she began to search for him. Eventually, she found him standing in a dark corner outside the building, rapidly emptying a bottle of vodka.
"K! Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."
He didn't answer, only took another swig from the bottle. Approaching, she saw that there were more empty bottles scattered at his feet. His tie was loose, his shirt half unbuttoned, and he smelled like smoke and booze.
"K?" She took his face in her hands, and noticed how pale he was. "What's wrong?
The silver eyes focused on her somewhat reluctantly. "E, I'm sorry. I can't go back in there." There was a slight slur in his speech.
"It's just going to be a couple hours more. If you would just–"
"I can't. She's here." He rubbed his face frustratedly with one hand, covering his eyes. "What's this fucking dinner for anyway?" he groaned.
"Fundraising for orphaned children in Somalia… But who are you talking about? Who's here?"
He leaned forward to rest his forehead on her shoulder, his voice a whisper: "My aunt."
Her eyes widened. Remembering what he'd confided in her the other day about his family, she wrapped her arms around him protectively, but before she could say anything, another voice called out.
"Who's out here?"
Edith whipped her head around to see a group of four teenagers looking down at them from a nearby slope. They were dressed for the dinner, three boys and a girl.
"Oh my gosh," the girl said to her companions. "It's them. The divorcée and her escort."
"Oh?" The expression of the boy standing beside her took on a mean hint as the group came down the slope toward them. "What's wrong with him?"
Edith tried to smile. "He's just not feeling too well. Thanks for your concern."
"Looks like he got a bit carried away with the alcohol there." The second boy kicked at one of the empty bottles, which rolled noisily away. "Stealing from the bar…"
"You shouldn't have brought him here," the third boy said. "People from the streets don't know how to behave any way other than trash."
Edith was appalled. "What did you just say, young man?? Are your parents here? Do they know you talk like this to people?"
"Of course they are," the third boy replied, nonchalant. "They were the ones who warned me about you."
"My mom did too," the first boy said to his friends. "Her husband left her for someone else, and now she's just an open shop, she said."
"That preys on young boys," the third boy added.
The second boy laughed nastily. "It's amazing, truly, how low-class some people can be. Hey Audrey," he said to the girl, "how shameless do you think you'd have to be to bring your boy-toy to a dinner like this?"
The girl wrinkled her nose. "Ugh, please. As if I'd ever do anything as crass as that." She cast a disgusted look at Edith.
Shaking with anger and embarrassment, Edith found herself uncharacteristically lost for words. She tried to find a retort, but stopped still when she heard a low growl.
"Are you done?" Beside her, Keary straightened. The cold anger that shone in the silver eyes as he stepped in front of her made the skin on her neck prickle, but the youths were not yet wise enough to sense the danger in the argent glint.
"The gutter rat speaks." The first boy folded his arms haughtily.
"Seriously, just get out of here and get a room," the third boy scoffed. "We don't want people of your kind mixing here with us." His gaze fell back to Edith as he muttered under his breath, "Slut."
The girl beside him barely had time to nod before Keary was upon them. Although slowed by all the alcohol he had drunk, he was still too swift for them, a flash of nightshade. The girl's scream ripped through the night air as the bottle in his hand smashed on the side of the first boy's head, sending him sprawling. A heartbeat later, the second boy felt a sharp pain slash all the way up his arm and fell back with a shout, spewing crimson through his torn sleeve.
"Some kids just really don't know when to shut up." Keary's voice, low and menacing, came from beside the third boy. The youth swallowed, but didn't dare to speak, because Keary's arm was around his shoulders, pressing a jagged edge of the broken bottle to his neck. "Especially rich fuckers like you. You think money makes you invincible. You probably don't even know where it comes from.
"The four of you are close only because your fathers are board members of the same company, a company that distributes contraband, among other things. But it seems business hasn't been great in the last few months… warehouses being burned, deliveries being sabotaged… stuff like that. I wonder if there'll be any inheritance left for you when the dust settles."
"What?!"
"How do you know all this?"
"Who the hell are you?"
Keary's smile was mirthless. "Nobody. Just some gutter rat."
"Haruki!"
Edith saw him freeze at the sound of the new voice, the colour and aggression draining from his face. She followed his gaze to the crowd of guests that had gathered, alarmed by the girl's screams, and saw the hostess of the gala, Asuka, standing amongst them.
"Haruki? It's Haruki, isn't it?" Asuka cried.
Although it was a different name she called, the recognition in both Keary and Asuka's eyes was unmistakable. They knew each other. It was the first time Edith had seen the boy look so terrified.
Unthinkingly, she followed her heart's first instinct and grabbed him by the hand.
"Run!"
And then they were shoving their way through the crowd, sprinting out of the compound, and kept running along the road until Reeves pulled up beside them. As they piled into the car, her mind whirled.
Asuka was a daughter of one of the oldest and most powerful clans in the country, the younger sister and right-hand woman of the current head of the family. If she was Keary's aunt, then that meant that this boy was… Keary was…
She turned to him, a thousand questions on her lips, but they all vanished when her eyes met the silver ones of the boy beside her, who looked just as stunned as she was. A glimmer in her periphery caught her attention, and their gazes fell together to the half of the broken bottle that he still gripped. They looked back at each other, and then began to laugh.
What a hysterical situation. She had gone to the dinner to try to find investors for her idea, and the events of the night had destroyed all hope of that. But although her plan had gone to ruin, there was a warm comfort inside her.
He had protected her. Those insolent children had hurled insults at them, and he had come to her defence.
Again, she felt the urge to kiss him stir within her again, a strong, burning compulsion to possess him completely. Impulsively, she gave in to the desire, darting her face quickly towards his, only to find him reaching for her in that same moment, the remnants of the bottle falling unheeded to the floor, and then his mouth was on hers and she was breathing him in, tasting his tongue against hers, pulling him in to herself as he pushed her down onto the car seat, both of them scrabbling blindly to hitch the skirt of her long, sequinned gown up above her hips so that he could yank her underwear down her thighs, her calves, her heels…
...