He moved with me, blocking my path. “You’re not causing any more scenes tonight.”

“The fuck I’m not.” I craned my neck, straining to see around him. “Out of my way.”

“He’s working, Tins.” He hooked an arm around mine, attempting to guide me in the opposite direction. “Mother’s arranged important meetings for him while he’s here. Leads on new acquisitions.”

“He doesn’t work for our mother.” I dug in my heels and glared at the woman who was currently thrusting her tits in Magnus’s face. “Who is she?”

“An heiress, attorney, politician…” He shrugged. “Does it matter? Your husband’s only interest is keeping you safe, and to do that—”

“He must play the game.” I gritted my teeth.

With power and wealth came dangerous enemies. But as long as my family reigned over Bishop’s Landing, we held the safest position. Our biggest rivals, the Morellis, would be the first to take that from us. Oh, they would love to pick us off one by one, watch us crumble, and bury our bones. They’d already started with the murder of my father.

“What did you say to the governor’s son?” He escorted me away from the crowd.

“Only the truth. He’s a despicable cunt.”

A server swept by with a tray of champagne. I grabbed a flute, lifting the bubbly drink toward my lips.

Keaton plucked it from my hand and returned it to the tray. “You can’t fuck with these people, Tins. We need them on our side.”

Goddammit, I hated that he was right. I hated Bishop’s Landing and my family’s role in it. But spewing insults and embarrassing our allies wouldn’t abolish generations of tyranny. I needed to be smarter. Smart like my husband.

“Why did you take my drink?” I glanced around for the server. “Find me another.”

“You’re underage.”

“You’re overbearing.”

“You’re…” He went still, distracted by something near the entrance. “Shit.”

I followed his gaze to our mother, and big surprise, the governor’s son stood at her side, adamantly yapping in her ear.

She didn’t scowl as she listened to his complaints. Scowling produced wrinkles, and she was too classy for that. Her disapproval manifested in other ways, like in the chilling glare she now aimed at me.

I straightened my spine. She raised her chin. Then she headed my way.

“Incoming.” Keaton turned toward me. “I’ll smooth this over. Go. Save yourself.”

Laughter hitched my chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

He chuckled with me. “I mean it. Run along.” A stern look. “And stay out of trouble.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”