I didn’t reach for it this time.
“I’m sure he can be a lot to deal with,” Bane continued, studying my expression instead of the collar.
That was putting it mildly.Creed wasn’t just a presence; he was a force, a gravity that pulled everything into his orbit.
I gave a slight nod, unsure where Bane was going with this.His attention felt too focused, too precise.
“You looked stunning out there on the dance floor.”His gaze swept over me, slow and appreciative.
I stiffened.
The compliment should have been harmless, but with Bane, it wasn’t.I remembered when he’d expressed to Creed an interest in a threesome.
I swallowed, shifting on my feet.“Thank you.Ballroom dancing is...a little intimidating.”
“You danced beautifully,” he said.“I noticed.”
I stiffened again.“It’s a crowded room,” I replied.
His smile deepened.“And yet attention still finds you.”A pause.“Creed doesn’t share attention easily.”
“No,” I said calmly.“He doesn’t.”
Bane leaned in slightly, intrusive.“Some men confuse possession with intimacy.Others know how to balance both.”
Before I could respond, the air shifted precisely.
Creed appeared at my side—not confronting Bane, just present.
“Bane,” he said.
Ice.
Bane straightened, his expression shifting into something neutral.But I saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Creed,” he said smoothly.“I was saying hello to your lovely lady here.”
Creed didn’t look at him.His eyes stayed on me.
“Are you all right?”
The question was quiet.Public.Absolute.
“Yes,” I answered.
That was all he needed.
Creed turned slowly to Bane.His voice never rose.
“Enjoy the gala,” he said.
Dismissal—clean, surgical.
Bane held his gaze for half a beat longer than etiquette allowed, then smiled.“Always a pleasure.”He inclined his head before walking away, his posture relaxed but deliberate.
Only after he disappeared did Creed’s hand settle at my back, a deliberate placement.
“What did he say to you?”
