Georgia’s POV
Before I could press him further, Vicky slid gracefully into our table like a queen taking her throne.
"Hello, brother," she greeted, her tone polite but sharp enough to slice glass.
Reagan arched a brow, smirking. "Wow, I didn’t even get ten minutes, and you’re already chasing off. Relax, I’m not going to harm our sister-in-law."
"I never said you would," Vicky replied coolly.
"You didn’t have to say it. We both know why you ca." Reagan leaned back, casual, but his eyes glead with challenge.
"I ca because I don’t want Georgia to feel alone. I thought I’d keep her company," Vicky said, her voice calm but firm.
Reagan snorted. "Keep her company? What do you think I was doing? Am I that boring?"
My eyes darted between the two of them like a tennis match. My heart hamred. Were they seriously sparring over right now?
Vicky tilted her head, lips curving in a mocking smile. "Boring? No. Dangerous? Possibly. For all I know, you could be feeding her poison."
My throat tightened, and I nearly choked on my champagne. God, they were really fighting now.
Reagan’s laugh was low and sarcastic. "Poison? Really? Then maybe you should ask Georgia herself. I was only chatting and maybe asking her advice, and she gave damn good ones. But since you seem convinced I’m plotting murder over cocktails, I’ll spare us all the scene."
He downed the rest of his drink in one smooth tilt. His gaze flicked to , softer now, almost playful. "I’ll see you soon, sister-in-law. Ciao."
He gave a cheeky salute before striding off, leaving the air around us thick with tension.
Vicky exhaled slowly, her eyes following him like a hawk. And ? I was caught in the middle, still wondering if I’d just witnessed sibling banter—or a warning wrapped in sibling rivalry. Cause all this ti, I was under the impression that Vicky was the princess of everyone, including Reagan.
Vicky’s eyes snapped to mine, sharp and protective. "What did that jerk say to you?"
I laughed, partly to ease the tension. "You really just called him a jerk? I thought only Nick was supposed to be on bad terms with him?"
"Yes—for Nick, always. But if he ever tries anything with you, I’ll happily be on bad terms, too." Her tone softened, then she added with a mischievous glint, "I may be everyone’s favorite in this family, but I have my own favorite too. And that’s Nick. Sa mom, sa dad—of course, he wins. Favoritism runs in our bloodline, you know." She winked playfully, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
"Honestly, it was nothing. He saw here alone and ca over to introduce himself properly. We just... talked about Sarah. He seems to like her. He didn’t even deny it," I said lightly.
But the way Vicky’s face froze told I’d stepped into dangerous waters.
"He does? That’s new. We all thought he was ice-cold, the type to treat won as tools." Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Well, he seed... nice," I admitted carefully. "But there’s sothing about him. A mystery so deep I can’t put my finger on it."
Vicky leaned closer, her voice low. "You’re not wrong. He’s dangerous, but not in ways you can read right away. All I know for sure? He despises Nick because of the heir issue. And now..." She smirked, tilting her chin toward the dance floor. "Now I know another reason for his grudge."
I followed her gaze—straight to Reagan, his hand firmly on Sarah’s waist as they danced, his smirk unreadable.
My chest tightened. Then my eyes found Nick across the room. He was still locked in conversation with a group of older n, but his gaze wasn’t on them. It was on .
Did he see talking with Reagan? The thought sent a chill crawling up my spine. God, I just hoped this wouldn’t spiral into sothing worse.
Soon, Evelyn and Ella slipped into our circle. I was listening to Ella talk about so of the investors’ offers when a firm hand wrapped around my waist, stealing my breath for a beat.
"Ladies," Nick’s deep voice cut through, smooth yet commanding, "can I steal the love of my life for the rest of the night? The performance and the proposal earlier drained , and I just want to spend the remaining hours of the party with this woman to myself." His words made everyone around chuckle.
"Why so serious? Of course, you can take your fiancée anyti you want, Captain," Evelyn teased.
Nick flashed a charming smile. "Thank you, ladies." Then he turned to , extending his hand. "Dance with . Before the night ends."
I didn’t hesitate. My hand slid into his, and instantly, the noise of the room dulled around us.
On the dance floor, I noticed Liam and Ella joined us too, swaying together, and even Vicky and Oliver had joined in. But my attention drifted too long—
"Eyes. On. ." Nick’s voice was low, dangerous, and thrilling.
I laughed softly. "So jealous? I was just looking around. Is that such a cri?"
His grip on my waist tightened, pulling flush against him. His lips brushed my ear, his voice a wicked whisper. "Yes. You should only look at . Or else, I’ll punish you tonight for being such a bad girl."
A shiver raced down my spine, but I masked it with a playful smirk. "Punish ? That sounds dark... dangerous. Maybe I want to know what that feels like. Should I misbehave more?"
Before he could react, I slid my hand down and squeezed his ass hard, winking up at him.
His eyes darkened instantly, his smile turning feral. "You’re testing ..." He pressed my lower back closer to until I could feel the hard length of him against my stomach.
My heart thundered. My body heated.
"Nick!" I giggled, full of mischief.
"Such a bad girl," he murmured, lethal promise in his tone. "You’ll regret this."
And then, without giving a chance to respond, he took my hand and pulled off the dance floor with purposeful strides.
I caught sight of Sarah and Nancy watching us, their faces sour with barely hidden fury. Sothing wicked in sparked—I smirked at them, bold and victorious, as Nick and I left the grand ballroom together.
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