Petru’s gaze softened, and I noticed a shift in his demeanor. The steely façade he often wore was replaced by a look of genuine respect as he regarded Emma. “You understand thesepapers more deeply than most. It’s rare to find someone with such an intricate grasp of history and its implications.”
Emma’s initial admiration turned into thoughtful reflection. “History has a way of guiding our present choices. As the French say, ‘L’histoire se répète toujours.’ We can often learn about our future by studying the past.”
As I watched Petru’s face, I saw genuine reverence. When he turned to me, his respect was evident, and it was clear Emma had made a significant impact on him.
And on me, if I were honest. In less than twenty-four hours, I had found myself in awe of her not once but twice, and none of it had to do with her translation.
Petru cleared his throat, breaking the moment of silence. “I see I might have underestimated you both. Your knowledge and commitment are evident. Perhaps together, wecanmake a difference. Especially if the human race is ever to be reminded of these rights, in light of the Great Exposure.”
Emma looked at him with a nod, her earlier tension replaced by a shared understanding. “Thank you, Petru. We’re here to fight for a future where such commitments are honored and upheld.”
As we stepped out of the room, it became glaringly obvious—Emma had done more than impress the ruthless Leader of Slava. She had solidified something between us, a shift that went beyond strategy or necessity.
We weren’t just walking into this war with combined brute force. We were stepping in with a mutual understanding, a recognition of what actually mattered, what we deemed worth fighting for. A shared respect for the reasons that drove us.
The same evening, Petru extended an invitation for us to stay the rest of the week, going so far as to personally invite us to a grand ball he was hosting Friday night.
A calculated move. A display of power. And an opportunity.
Emma and I accepted without hesitation. This was more than diplomacy—it was a turning point. An important change in the game we were playing.
And I couldn’t ignore one simple truth.
Without Emma, we never would have gotten here.
THIRTY-ONE
EMMA
Friday night.
Ball-night.Ball-night?Sounded more like a tea bagging situation than the fancy dance party I was preparing for.
Looking in the mirror, I was surprised to find I wasn’t entirely disappointed with the reflection staring back at me. A sleek, red-and-black gown hugged my figure, its high slit daring and the plunging neckline, edged with lace, barely covered the sides of my breasts.
My hair was styled up, though a few loose strands framed my face, softening the look. Heavily adorned with gold jewelry, I looked like a high-end escort on her way to a royal ball.
It seemed heartbreak and perpetual anxiety suited me. Thoughts of James tried to force their way to the surface, but I shoved them back down. We were on a diplomatic mission—there was no time to dwell on the pain I had expertly locked away in that little black box, buried deep in the recesses of my mind.
I gulped in air as if preparing for battle and exited the room, my high heels clicking against the marble floor, propelling me forward—though not as quickly as I would have liked.
As I entered the ballroom, my eyes were immediately drawn to Caden. He stood among a group of at least ten other magi—looking a lot hotter in a suit than I wanted to admit—all laughing at whatever crap had spilled from his lips.
A charming grin played at the corners of his mouth, and his face glowed with what seemed like genuine amusement. I shook my head, unimpressed by his fake display of charm and wit—the dark prince of deception disguised as the perfect gentleman.
Though, as I stared at him for a second, I couldn’t ignore the way he radiated confidence—like he fucking owned the place. Black suit, white shirt, collar open just enough to suggest he didn’t have to follow anyone’s rules. He looked like a walking power play, equal parts ‘alpha-genes’ and ‘billionaire crime lord,’ depending on who you asked.
As if sensing my perusal, his head turned sharply. The grin vanished, replaced by something darker, something dangerous flickering in his eyes as they roamed unapologetically over my body. His gaze dropped to my breasts and stayed there. I thinned my lips, and it took every ounce of self-control not to flip him off.
Ignoring him, I moved toward the large table filled with appetizers, feeling his stare trailing me the entire way. But Caden wasn’t the only one watching. The dress I’d chosen to wear, was clearly doing its job, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Within seconds, even Petru had sidled up to my side.
"Miss Emma, if I may say so, you look absolutely exquisite this evening," he murmured, his voice dripping with charm as he smoothed a hand through his silver-streaked hair.
I flashed him a coy smile. "Thank you, Petru. You don’t look so bad yourself."
His eyes twinkled as he extended a hand with an inviting smile. "Would you do me the honor of a dance? I think it's the least I can offer in light of recentdiscussions."
I let out a small chuckle, nodding. "I suppose I can spare a dance."
