Chapter 8 - The Gala of Wolves
The grand ballroom of the Sovereign Hotel was a cathedral of decadent sin. Crystal chandeliers dripped from gilded ceilings, casting brilliant, fractured light over hundreds of men in bespoke tuxedos and women draped in diamonds and couture silk. Champagne flowed like water, laughter masked unspoken threats, and behind every polished smile lay a concealed blade.
When the massive double doors swung open, the murmurs died in an instant.
Kian Moretti stepped into the ballroom. He was magnificent in a custom midnight-black tuxedo, his broad shoulders commanding the room, the intricate tattoos on his neck partially visible above the crisp collar of his shirt. He moved with the slow, terrifying grace of a panther entering a pen of sheep.
On his arm was Aurora.
The transformation was breathtaking. Her long brown hair was styled into an elegant, sweeping updo, revealing the graceful curve of her fair neck. She wore a floor-length gown of heavy emerald silk that hugged her slender frame, the rich color setting her rosy complexion ablaze. Around her neck, concealed beneath a breathtaking collar of diamonds Kian had placed upon her, hung the small silver locket. Her head was held high, her hazel eyes steady, masking the sheer terror thrumming through her veins.
"Breathe, wife," Kian murmured down to her, his lips barely brushing the crown of her ear. The heat of his voice sent a shiver straight down her spine. "They are looking at you because you are the most stunning creature to ever enter this den. Not because they know your secrets."
Aurora glanced up at him, drawing strength from the unyielding stone of his jaw. "They're looking at us like we’re a declaration of war."
"We are," he replied coldly.
Across the crowded floor, standing near the marble bar surrounded by half a dozen armed bodyguards, stood Tony Vane.
Tony was older—in his early fifties—with slicked-back silver hair, cold reptilian blue eyes, and a cruel, thin mouth. When his gaze landed on Aurora, the glass of scotch in his hand stilled. His eyes dropped to the diamond ring glittering on her left hand, then snapped to Kian. A vein pulsed violently in his temple.
Kian didn't look away. He raised his glass in a mock toast, his lips curling into a predatory smirk that promised total ruin.
"Stay beside Marcus," Kian instructed quietly, signaling the towering bodyguard who stood two paces behind them. "The Mayor’s commissioner is calling me over. It will take three minutes to finalize the port jurisdiction. Do not leave this pillar."
"Kian, wait—" Aurora started, an icy premonition clawing at her throat.
"Three minutes, Aurora. No one will touch you under these lights." He pressed a firm, lingering hand against the small of her back, a gesture both protective and possessive, before turning to weave through the crowd toward the private balcony.
The moment Kian’s back was turned, the air around Aurora seemed to grow thin.
The string quartet continued to play a lively waltz, but to Aurora, the music sounded warped, distant. She stood by the marble pillar, Marcus hovering like a shadow at her flank.
Suddenly, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes stumbled violently into Marcus, spilling red wine across the bodyguard's jacket. "Forgive me, sir! I am so sorry—"
Marcus snarled, shoving the man back, his hand dropping toward his concealed holster. But in that split second of manufactured chaos, two men in gray suits stepped directly between Marcus and Aurora, boxing the bodyguard in with quiet, lethal efficiency.
Aurora backed away, her spine hitting the cool marble of the pillar.
"Miss Bennett," a smooth, venomous voice whispered from the shadows of the alcove.
Tony Vane stepped out. Up close, he smelled of cloying cologne and expensive cigars. His cold blue eyes raked over her, stopping at the base of her throat where the locket was hidden.
"Or should I say, Mrs. Moretti?" Tony sneered, stepping so close she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. "You look radiant for a dead girl walking. Did your charming new husband tell you why he really put that ring on your finger?"
Aurora kept her chin raised, forcing her voice not to shake. "Back away from me, Tony. Before Kian tears your throat out."
Tony chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. He leaned in, his lips hovering inches from her ear as he dropped a sentence that turned the blood in her veins to ice.
May you like
"Kian didn't marry you to save you, little girl. He married you because fifteen years ago, Kian was the wheelman who ran your father's car off the bridge."
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