I should feel safe.
Instead, Kai is everywhere.
Not physically. Not yet. He lives in the spaces between things—in the pauses in conversation, in the way my pulse jumps when a man laughs too loudly, in the weight between my shoulder blades that tells me I’m being watched even when I’m not.
I lift my champagne flute and take a slow sip, bubbles bursting sharp against my tongue.
Smile, I tell myself. Breathe.
Across the room, a man laughs—low, rough, unrefined.
My stomach tightens.
It’s not his voice. It’s the cadence. The echo of something familiar. My mind betrays me instantly, dragging up memories I’ve spent years locking down.
Kai leaning in too close, mouth near my ear.
Kai laughing when he shouldn’t.
Kai watching me like he already owned the outcome.
My smile wavers.
Noah feels it.
His hand tightens around my arm, fingers pressing just a fraction harder, a silent check-in disguised as affection. He leans in, lips brushing my cheek.
“You’re drifting,” he murmurs.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically.
He hums, unconvinced, eyes flicking over my face as if he’s looking for cracks beneath the makeup. Noah doesn’t miss things. He catalogues them.
We move through the crowd together, greeting donors and board members, nodding through polite conversations about funding and optics and how important it is to be seen at events like this. I laugh at the right moments. I tilt my head. I play my part.
But every time someone brushes past me, my body flinches.
Every time a hand comes too close, my skin goes tight.
Because Kai never touched me gently.
He touched me like intention.
“Scarlett.” Noah stops walking.
I blink, realising we’ve stepped into a quieter alcove near the terrace doors. Cool air leaks in from outside, brushing my bare back. His hands slide to my waist, firm, grounding.
“You’ve been on edge all night,” he says softly.
I shake my head. “It’s just the crowd.”
“Liar,” he replies, still calm, still controlled. His blue eyes search mine, sharp and unyielding. “You don’t get rattled by rooms like this.”
My heart stutters.
I look past him, out at the dark garden beyond the glass. For a split second, I swear I see a shadow where there shouldn’t be one.
My breath catches.
