The Traitor's Emblem by Juan Gómez-Jurado Read Free Book Online

what annoys me most about arrogant people, Jürgen? The number of things you take for granted. Well, you should know this: the world isn’t the way you see it. By the way, your friends are giggling and they can’t seem to take their eyes off you.”
    Jürgen glanced around. He couldn’t fail, couldn’t allow this ill-mannered girl to humiliate him.
    She’s playing hard to get because really she likes me. She must be one of those girls who thinks the best way to excite a man is to push him away until he goes crazy. Well, I know how to deal with her sort, he thought.
    Jürgen took a step forward, taking the girl by the waist and drawing her toward him.
    “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she gasped.
    “Teaching you to dance.”
    “If you don’t let me go right now, I’ll scream.”
    “You wouldn’t want to make a scene, now, would you, Alys?”
    The young woman tried to force her arms between her body and Jürgen’s, but she was no match for his strength. The baron’s son squeezed her to him even more closely, feeling her breasts through her dress. He began to move to the rhythm of the music, a smile on his lips, knowing that Alys would not scream. Creating a fuss at a party like this would only harm her reputation and that of her family. He saw the young woman’s eyes crystallizing into a cold hatred, and suddenly toying with her seemed a lot of fun, much more satisfying than if she’d simply agreed to dance with him.
    “Would you like a drink, miss?”
    Jürgen stopped with a jolt. Paul was at his side, holding a tray with several glasses of champagne, his lips firmly pursed.
    “Hey, it’s my cousin the waiter. Get lost, you cretin!” barked Jürgen.
    “First I’d like to know if the young lady is thirsty,” said Paul, extending the tray toward him.
    “Yes,” Alys said hurriedly, “that champagne looks marvelous.”
    Jürgen half closed his eyes, trying to work out what to do. If he let go of her right hand to allow her to take a glass from the tray, she would be able to detach herself completely. He slightly weakened the pressure on her back, allowing her to free her left arm, but squeezed the right even harder. The girl’s fingertips were turning purple.
    “Come on, then, Alys, take a glass. They say it brings happiness,” he added, feigning good humor.
    Alys leaned toward the tray, trying to free herself, but it was useless. There was nothing for it but to take the champagne with her left hand.
    “Thank you,” she said weakly.
    “Perhaps the young lady would like a napkin,” said Paul, raising his other hand, in which he held a saucer with small squares of fabric. He had moved around so that he was now on the other side of the couple.
    “That would be marvelous,” said Alys, staring intently at the baron’s son.
    For a few seconds, no one moved. Jürgen studied the situation. With the glass in her left hand, the only way she could take a napkin would be with her right. At last, boiling with rage, he had to give up the battle. He released Alys’s hand, and she stepped back, taking the napkin.
    “I think I’ll get some air,” she said with remarkable poise.
    Jürgen, as though spurning her, turned his back to return to his friends. Passing by Paul, he clenched his shoulder and whispered:
    “You’ll pay for that.”
    Somehow Paul managed to keep the champagne glasses balanced on the tray: they clinked but didn’t topple. His inner balance was another matter entirely, and at that precise moment he felt like a cat trapped in a barrel of nails.
    How could I have been so stupid?
    There was only one rule in life: stay as far away from Jürgen as possible. It wasn’t easy to do, since they both lived under the same roof; but it was simple, at least. There wouldn’t be much he could do if his cousin decided to make his life impossible, but he could certainly avoid crossing his path, much less humiliate him in public. This would cost him dearly.
    “Thank you.”
    Paul lifted