The host, Dwayne Granger—billionaire tech founder, old-money golden boy, and self-appointed king of every room he walks into—reaches us with a broad, delighted smile.
“Vivian Laurent!” he says warmly.
Vivian forces a lovely smile in return, the kind society women are trained to wear even while drowning. She steps into his hug, polite and gentle.
A sliver of anger cuts through me.
I don’t show it.
But it’s there—sharp, territorial, unwelcome.
Dwayne releases her, then turns to me. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”
“We do,” I say.
“We don’t!” Vivian snaps at the same time.
Dwayne’s brows lift as he looks between us. “Which one is it?”
Vivian takes a breath—tight, controlled. “I do not know this man.”
She says it like a curse, like a prayer—like a desperate wish.
Dwayne frowns. “That’s strange. The Rusnaks are well known. Dimitri very much so.”
He steps slightly to the side, positioning himself grandly, almost reverently.
“Vivian, allow me to introduce him properly,” Dwayne says, his tone swelling with pride. “Dimitri Rusnak is one of the most powerful private investors in the world. Old-dynasty money from Russia and America. His family controls shipping routes, steel, pharmaceuticals, and half the infrastructural contracts in Russia, America, and Eastern Europe.”
Vivian stiffens.
I watch it happen like a slow, delicious tremor running through her spine.
Dwayne continues, oblivious to the tension strangling the air. “He’s funded some of the most influential tech expansions in the last decade. Heads of state court his attention. Entire industries adjust when he moves. People don’t just know him, Vivian—they follow his lead.”
Each word lands in her like a nail.
I let the smile tug slowly at my mouth. The kind that says she has no idea how many doors she’s already opened for me.
Vivian’s throat bobs.
Her eyes flick to mine—fear, fury, disbelief swirling like a storm.
I lean in just slightly, my voice low, silken, lethal. “Told you,ma chère. We know each other.”
Her lips part, trembling with rage.
Dwayne laughs, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “I swear, Dimitri, every time I introduce you to someone, they react like they’ve been caught in a hurricane.”
If only he knew.
And if only Vivian understood that the hurricane is standing right in front of her—and she’s already inside it.
“Dwayne.” She touches his arm lightly, and my gaze snaps to the point of contact. A soft, harmless gesture—yet it feels like a hand dragging over raw nerves. “Please, excuse me. I’ll be back.”
Her voice is smooth, sweet, polite…but her eyes are wide, frantic. She turns and walks out of the room, heels clicking too fast for someone trying to appear calm.
Dwayne watches her go, perplexed. “I wonder what’s wrong. She’s usually very composed and—”
