Celeste felt it before she saw him.
There was shift in the air, and heaviness pressed at her spine.
She turned, and there he was.
Grigor Ivanovich.
He stood there, poised like a king surveying lands he once ruled. His presence was neither loud nor grand, yet it devoured the space around him.
His silver hair gleamed beneath the chandelier lights, and his sharp eyes ice-blue and cruel landed on her like a mark.
He smiled.
Dominic wasn't smiling. His posture didn't change, but his silence hardened. Grigor raised his glass in a mock salute. With his eyes still on her.
Grigor's smile faltered for a moment, as he shifted his gaze to Dominic. He nodded at Dominic. Then he turned, disappearing into the crowd like fog fading into night.
Only then did Dominic breathe.
Celeste stood frozen.
"Was that—?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he offered his arm, quietly, like nothing had happened. She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.
