Chapter 4: The Gala

The Wexley Group ballroom held six hundred people, and every one of them turned when Felix walked in with Casper on his arm.

Three days had passed since the wedding.

The clip of the unveiling had been watched nine million times.

Felix had never been prouder of a suit.

It was black, cut close at the waist, and Casper wore one to match, with the sleeves taken up to his wrists.

"Everyone's staring," Casper whispered.

"Good. Let them count the rings."

Casper looked down at the gold band on his hand and then, shyly, at Felix's.

Neither of them mentioned the bathroom.

Felix had not slept since it.

Every time he shut his eyes he felt Casper's thighs trembling under his hand, and woke angry.

He had put the empty bottle in a drawer and sent a clinic doctor to the penthouse that morning.

The doctor had given Casper a new, gentler blocker and told him to drink water and not to do anything strenuous.

Casper had thanked the doctor four times.

Now he stood close at Felix's side, taking small sips of champagne with his eyes on the floor.

"Look up," Felix said quietly.

"Why?"

"Because you're the groom. Grooms look at the room."

Casper lifted his head.

Across the ballroom Rowan was on the little stage with a microphone, surrounded by investors, with Freddy at his elbow.

He saw them and his smile stayed fixed, but his eyes flicked to Casper, then to Felix, then to the exit.

"Friends," he said, "welcome to Wexley Group's tenth year."

The applause was long.

"A small note before the toast. Some of you may have had trouble reaching your banks this morning. A technical glitch, I'm assured. It will pass."

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