He had seen part of the altercation between Beatrice and Sorcha, but Beatrice was lucky Sorcha hadn’t kicked her ass, because his woman could have taken her easily. He fumed that Beatrice had confronted her, and hit her, and he wasn’t going to stand by and let this slide. Of course he had known Beatrice would be here, because her family ran in the same circles as he did. But to think she’d stoop this low, actually hit Sorcha because of her jealousy, pissed Rian off. “Excuse me.” Rian excused himself from the stockbrokers he spoke to and made his way toward Beatrice, who was now speaking with another socialite. He stopped behind her, so angry he was squeezing the champagne glass so tightly he thought he might shatter it. The woman Beatrice was speaking with straightened and looked at him, clearly sensing his rage, and excused herself. Beatrice turned around and stared at him with this bored expression on her face. “Rian, I take it you saw that little show?” she said and glanced around, clearly not caring how shit went down.
