The car rolled to a stop, and Dimitri opened his door, scanning the street. My men moved like shadows, surrounding us. I let go of her hand only long enough to step out, then offered it back to her. She placed her palm in mine, trusting me to pull her into the night.
We walked toward the glowing doors together, her maroon gown trailing like spilled wine behind us.
And as every head turned, every eye tracked us, and I thought only one thing.
They won't take her, not while I live.
**************
The door opened, and light hit us like a blade. Chandeliers hung low, and glass dripped from the ceiling like frozen rain. The air was thick with perfumes and power. Men in black suits, and women in gowns that cost more than most men earned in a year. Politicians, businessmen, rivals, and snakes hiding behind champagne glasses were present.
And then us, and every head turned when we walked in. Emilia's hand rested on my arm, light but steady, her motion gown moving like liquid fire with each step. My world narrowed to the weight of her against me.
I didn't slow, and I didn't blink. I let them look, let them see him with me, let them choke on it.
***********
"Viktor," a voice called from the side, some minister with a fake smile and greedy eyes.
I gave a short nod and nothing more. Emilia's lips curved into something polite, her chin lifted, her back straight. She played the part, calm and poised, like she had been born for this stage.
Inside, I wanted to pull her out. And every step deeper into this felt like walking into a trap.
I scanned fast, doors, exits, and corners. Two guards are on the left wing. Another by the bar, men with sharp eyes lingering too long on Emilia. I counted six, maybe seven, or who weren't here for the champagne. My hand twitched with the urge to reach for my weapon.
"You're staring at everyone," Emilia whispered, her voice brushing against my shoulder.
"I'm counting ways to kill them," I murmured back.
Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. Instead, her grip on my arm tightened. "Then make sure you count fast."
I almost smiled, almost, but I didn't.
The evening dragged like a blade over skin. Too many smiles, too many fake toasts. But I kept them talking to me, and names I didn't care about, promises I didn't believe... my attention never left Emilia.
She held her own, exchanging gratings with grace. She nodded when she had to, smiled when expected. I saw it in their eyes; they underestimated her. They thought she was a decoration, a trophy, or a fool, perhaps.
Still, her trust sat heavy in my chest. She trusted me to keep her safe in this pit of wolves. That weight was heavier than any gun.
At one point, I leaned down, my lips close to her ear, letting the music mask my words. "Stay close. No matter what happens, don't let go of me."
She tilted her head, just enough for me to see a flicker of nerves in her eyes. She nodded once. "I won't."
Her fingers dug into my arm. And I admit, I like the pressure. It anchored me.
*************
The minutes stretched so long that I saw things others missed. The conversation stopped when I walked past. Men shifted positions, like pieces on a board being moved into place. A glance exchanged across the room, and a subtle nod.
My instincts screamed, and then I saw him. A politician's aide, it was small, thin, with nervous hands. He slipped out through a side door, too quiet and too quick. My jaw clenched; that was it. The thread that pulled the trap tight.
***************
I bent toward Emilia again, my voice was sharp. "Don't let go."
Her brow pulled together. "Viktor–"
"Not now, just stay with me."
