Monday morning came with a vengeance.
The office was still as cold and sleek as ever, and my cubicle — buried among steel partitions and humming computers — felt like a cage. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but I couldn't type. Not when the tab still open on my phone glared up at me with mocking cruelty.
Knox Hart. Mystery blonde.
They'd been seen leaving the Vesper Club together. He looked untouched, calm. She looked… used.
I hadn't even realized I was gripping the edge of my desk until my fingertips tingled.
I was spiraling, and worse — I was doing it over him.
"Kaia."
I turned sharply at the sound of my name. Finn Hart stood behind me, crisp in a charcoal suit, his jaw as sharp as the tension slicing through the air.
"Can I have a word?"
His voice was gentle, but firm. My stomach twisted. I rose and followed him, silent, to his office.
He closed the door behind me, a quiet click that felt deafening.
"I know my brother's… complicated," Finn said after a beat, arms crossed over his chest. "But whatever's going on between the two of you—if it's hurting you, I want it to stop."
My breath hitched. "There's nothing going on."
Finn's eyes softened. "Kaia. I was at the fundraiser. I saw the way he looked at you."
Heat crept up my neck, shame blooming under my collar.
"He breaks things," Finn said. "That's what Knox does. He doesn't mean to, but he does. And I don't want you to be one of them."
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked quietly.
"Because I care." He stepped closer. "Because I've been where you are. Caught in his gravity. Wanting to be the exception."
I couldn't speak. The honesty in his voice struck something deep, and dangerous.
Then he pulled something from the inside of his suit jacket — a black envelope sealed in wax.
"This is for you," he said, placing it gently in my hand. "The Ashbourne Gala is this Friday. It's our biggest event of the year. High society, media, investors… every vulture in a tux."
My brows drew together. "Why me?"
"I'd like you there. Officially, to represent our Creative Division. Unofficially…" His voice dropped, his gaze lingering. "I'd like to spend more time with you. Somewhere the lights are low and my brother isn't circling."
The envelope burned in my hand.
I nodded, unsure if it was gratitude or guilt swelling in my throat.
He smiled. "Don't overthink it. Just say yes."
By Friday night, I'd said yes.
My gown was on loan from Nia — a backless, slinky black number that clung like sin and shimmered with every step. My hair was swept up, my lips painted a red that promised things I wasn't sure I was ready to give.
"You look like a rich man's fantasy," Nia said, whistling as she helped zip me up.
"Let's hope the right rich man is looking," I muttered.
Callie poked her head in from the hallway. "Remember, if anyone tries to kidnap you into a shadowy sex cult, scream twice."
I laughed — but it didn't quite reach my chest.
Because no matter how elegant I looked… I wasn't ready for whatever was coming.
The Ashbourne Gala was held in a converted cathedral — all marble columns and vaulted ceilings, dripping in chandeliers and scandal. Champagne flowed like water. Laughter echoed like sins being whispered.
I stepped inside, heels clicking against stone, every eye swiveling toward me.
And then I saw him.
Finn.
Standing at the top of the stairs, tux crisp, glass in hand.
He didn't just look at me — he devoured me with that one gaze. Slowly, he descended the steps, his expression unreadable until he reached me.
"You came," he said, his voice low, warm.
"You invited me."
"I wasn't sure you'd accept."
I glanced around. "Honestly, neither was I."
He smiled and offered his arm. I took it.
It was easy, being next to Finn. He made things feel steady, real — like there was still oxygen in the room. Like I could breathe.
He introduced me to partners, clients, executives who looked at me like I didn't belong — but Finn held me close the whole time. Protected me.
And then I saw him.
Across the ballroom.
Standing in the shadows.
Knox.
His tie was undone. His jaw clenched. And his eyes — God, those eyes — pinned me like a blade to a wall.
His gaze dropped to where my hand rested on Finn's arm.
He didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Just stood there, watching.
Consuming.
Finn leaned closer. "Ignore him."
I tried.
But every time I laughed, I felt Knox's eyes on my throat.
Every time I sipped my drink, I felt him imagining what else my lips could do.
Every time I smiled at Finn, my heart raced with guilt I didn't understand.
And then, as if the universe couldn't stand the balance any longer, the music shifted.
A waltz.
Finn turned to me, offering his hand. "Dance with me."
Before I could speak, another hand shot between us, gripping my wrist.
"Actually," a dark voice purred behind me, "I believe it's my turn."
My breath caught.
Knox stood behind me, close enough to burn. The world narrowed to the scent of spice and danger wrapped in expensive cologne.
"Kaia?" Finn said sharply.
"It's just a dance," Knox replied coolly, but there was venom beneath it. "Unless you're afraid of what she might feel."
I didn't know who I was more afraid of — him, or myself.
But I let him lead me to the floor.
His hand slid low on my back. His other gripped my fingers.
"You look edible," he murmured, voice rough. "And here I thought you were the sweet one."
I glared at him. "What are you doing?"
"Reminding you that I'm not so easily ignored."
"You brought someone else home this week."
"And yet here you are. In my arms."
I swallowed. His touch was fire through silk. Every spin left me dizzier than the last.
"You're toxic," I whispered.
His smile was sharp. "But I taste so good."
I hated that he was right.
The music ended, but he didn't let go.
"Careful, Kaia," he said, voice low. "You're standing in the middle of a battlefield. And I've never been the type to lose."
He walked away before I could answer.
Leaving me breathless.
And drowning.