Halfway through the event, Deveraux still hasn’t shown up. I lean toward Dimitri, keeping my smile glued in place for anyone who might be watching.
“I’m going for a drink,” I murmur.
His jaw flexes. He wants to follow—I see it in the quick flick of his eyes, the tension in his shoulders—but I shake my head once, sharp.
“Stay,” I whisper. “Be alert.”
He’s surrounded by a small circle of men discussing business, all pretending this is a harmless networking gala and not a gilded façade for money laundering. If he suddenly abandons them, it’ll draw attention.
So I turn away and walk toward the bar, my heels clicking against marble, my nerves coiled tight. I order a mocktail,needing the gesture more than the drink. My hand wraps around the glass, cool and steady.
I’m lifting it to my lips when a voice slices through the air behind me.
“I didn’t think Mrs. Rusnak would come to my event.”
My blood turns to ice.
That voice—smooth, familiar, venom wrapped in silk.
I whirl around, heart punching my ribs, and there he is.
Charles Deveraux.
Smiling like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.
And just like that, I know—
He knew I was here all along.
The trap has already snapped shut around me.
I glare at him and open my mouth to speak when gunfire erupts.
The ballroom dissolves into chaos.
“It’s over for you!” Charles snarls as he tries to grab me—but before his fingers can close around my arm, I’m yanked back, hard.
It’s Dimitri.
He shoves me behind a marble column with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs. I stumble, catching myself on the cool stone. By the time I look up again, Charles has vanished into the panicking crowd.
My heart twists painfully.
No—he can’t disappear now. Not with my mother somewhere in this building.
But there’s no time to chase him.
Strange men flood the ballroom, weapons raised. They’re not guests. They’re soldiers—Charles’s or the Kovals’, I don’t know. All I know is that they’re here for blood.
Dimitri unholsters his pistol in one smooth motion, and the change in him is instant. The elegance, the charm, the mask he wears for the world—all of it falls away.
What’s left is something terrifyingly beautiful.
A soldier.
A killer.
A man built to survive this.
