I let that settle, rolling it around in my head. Hehasbeen busier lately, not home some nights. Maybe it’s started, whatever his plan is for taking out this other threat. Maybe I’m just overthinking things.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Okay.”
Devin grins and pulls me into a quick, fierce hug; her arms tight around my shoulders. “Go be amazing. I’ll be around and come find you when you’re done pretending to be a billionaire’s fiancée. But have fun with it while you can, babe.”
When I step out of the car, the air feels charged, buzzing with money, ideas, and power. Two guards fall into step beside me immediately, their presence is comforting and suffocating. Nika is one of them, his expression neutral but his eyes kind as he offers a small, respectful smile.
“Miss Demsky,” he says.
I nod, grateful for the steadiness of him as we move through the entrance and into the cavernous interior. The space opens up around me, clean lines and soaring ceilings, sunlight pouring through glass walls. Screens display sleek presentations, voices echo, and laughter rises and falls. Somewhere in this maze of innovation and ambition, Kazimir waits.
He left before dawn this morning to oversee the final setup of the conference.
When I find him, it’s like the room subtly rearranges itself around his presence. He’s in a dark suit; his attention divided among a cluster of executives who hang on his every word. He looks every inch the mogul, the billionaire, the man people fear and admire in equal measure. When his gaze lands on me, something sharp and possessive flashes there before smoothing into something publicly acceptable.
He steps toward me, his hand settling at the small of my back, warm and steady. For the next two hours, I smile until my cheeks ache, nod at conversations that blur together, and shake hands with people whose names evaporate the moment they leave my line of sight. Brilliant people with brilliant minds make me blush and feel just how obviously I don’t belong here.
I play my role so well that I almost forget I’m acting. I play my part until the ache in my stomach sharpens and the lights feel too bright. There are talks happening in massive presentation rooms and business deals proffered and agreed on in dark corners.
How much of this, beneath the surface of innovation, is moving Kazimir’s empire forward? How much is built on illegal weaponssupply, high-end tech for crime syndicates like his, and covert import and export flights happening in private hangars?
When lunch is finally announced we move into a room dressed in white linen and soft greenery. Relief washes over me. Maybe I can sit. Maybe I can breathe. Maybe, just for a moment, the roiling in my gut can settle before I have to keep playing this part.
I slip away the moment Kazimir’s attention is pulled in another direction, easing past clusters of people and trays of food until the noise dulls. A sheer curtain hangs along one wall, filtering light and sound, and I hover near it with a glass of water pressed to my palm, breathing carefully until the nausea eases its grip on me.
“Hey,” a voice says gently. “Are you okay?”
I look up to find a server standing a respectful distance away. He is about my age with kind eyes, and a tentative smile. His uniform is crisp, his posture careful, like he’s been trained to read the room before stepping into it. He’s tall and lean and obviously concerned with my through-the-nose deep breathing.
“I’m fine,” I say automatically, then let the truth out in a moment of relief. This isn’t another tech genius or Saudi Arabian mogul. “Just a little dizzy. Big crowds.”
He nods, glancing at the glass in my hand. “Want something else? Ginger ale, maybe? Or I can get you a chair.”
“That would be amazing,” I admit, grateful for the normalcy of the interaction. He treats me like a person instead of an accessory. “Thank you.”
He turns to go just as the curtain is yanked back with enough force to make something, somewhere, tear. The server flinches.
Kazimir fills the space like a storm, his expression dark, jaw clenched, eyes cutting immediately between the two of us. “What is this?” he demands, his is voice low, but it carries.
The server freezes, color draining from his face. “Sir, I was just?—”
“She doesn’t need anything from you,” Kazimir snaps, stepping closer in a way that leaves no doubt about who holds power here. “Go.”
My stomach drops, the nausea rolls embarrassment tinged with fear. He’s making a scene. A few people are glancing over, and the sweat on my brow goes cold. “Kaz,” I say quietly, heat rushing to my cheeks. “He was just helping me.”
Kazimir doesn’t look at me. His gaze never leaves the server, and there’s something feral in it that makes my skin prickle. “Go,” he repeats.
“I’m sorry,” the server mutters, eyes glued to the floor as he backs away. “I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I rush to say, mortified. “I’m sorry.”
But he’s already retreating, disappearing into the crowd with his shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to disappear from view. Across the room I see Nika squint, his eyes are on the young man, but they flit away dismissively.Thatmakes me breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s nothing serious, then. Just Kaz overreacting.
I turn to Kazimir, humiliation burning through me. “What the hell was that?” I hiss.
His hand wraps around my wrist, possessive and unyielding. “He was hitting on you.”
