The Gala ballroom was a masterclass in atmospheric intimidation. It looked like it had been carved from the interior of a single, massive diamond—walls of faceted glass and crystal chandeliers that hung from the gold-leaf ceiling like frozen rain. Thousands of points of light danced over the elite of the city's underworld, reflecting off the jewels of women who looked like they were dripping in blood and ice.
Yuri led me down the grand staircase. His hand rested possessively on the small of my back, his thumb tracing a slow, rhythmic circle against the red silk that felt like a brand. Every eye in the room turned toward us. The whispers followed in our wake, a dry rustle of leaves against stone.
"Is that the girl?" "The survivor?" "She looks like a doll in that silk, but look at her eyes."
"Keep your head up, Jessy," Yuri murmured, his voice a low vibration barely audible over the haunting string quartet. "Tonight, you are a Volkov. Act like the floor belongs to you, and the world will believe it."
"I'm not a Volkov, Yuri. I'm a captive in a dress that costs more than my old life," I whispered back, flashing a dazzling, practiced smile at a passing senator.
"In this room, there is no difference," he replied, his grip tightening just a fraction.
He led me to the center of the floor as the music shifted to a slow, melancholic waltz. Yuri pulled me into his arms, his injured shoulder held with rigid discipline, his gaze never wavering from mine. As we moved, the world blurred into a dizzying swirl of black tuxedos and silver gowns.
For a moment, the deception became reality. I forgot the letter. I forgot the brass key hidden in the folds of my gown. I only felt the heat of his palm against mine and the terrifying intensity in his sea-gray eyes. He looked at me not as a vault to be cracked, but as if I were the only living soul in a room full of ghosts.
"You're a good dancer," he said, his breath ghosting across my temple.
"I learned back when I thought my biggest problem was passing my marketing exams," I said, a sudden pang of grief hitting me for the life that had been extinguished in that collision.
"The girl who worried about exams is dead, Jessy. The woman in my arms is the most powerful person in this room, even if she hasn't realized her own strength yet."
The music ended, breaking the spell. Yuri was immediately intercepted by a pack of men in sharp suits wanting to discuss "investments" and "logistics." He squeezed my hand once—a silent, territorial warning—before letting me go.
"Don't wander far," he cautioned, his eyes lingering on the curve of my neck.
I nodded, heading toward the balcony. I needed to purge the scent of him—cedarwood and power—from my lungs. But as I stepped into the cool night air, a shadow detached itself from the stone railing.
"It's a beautiful cage, isn't it?"
I spun around, my heart leaping. It was Viktor. The moonlight caught the jagged scar on his face, making him look like a gargoyle brought to life. He sipped a dark liquid, his one good eye tracking the waves crashing against the cliffs below.
"What do you want, Viktor?" I asked, my hand instinctively moving to the pocket where the key lay hidden.
"To give you a choice," he said, stepping closer. "Yuri told you that your father was a thief. He told you he's protecting you from the wolves. But did he tell you why your father risked everything to steal that Ledger?"
I froze. "He said my father stole a list of names for profit."
Viktor laughed—a dry, hacking sound that chilled my blood. "Your father wasn't a thief, Jessy. He was a whistleblower. That 'Glass Ledger' isn't just bank accounts. It's a record of the people the Volkovs have murdered to build this throne. And Yuri's name? It's at the top of the most recent page."
He stepped into my personal space, the smell of cheap tobacco clashing with the expensive perfume of the gala. "He didn't save you because he cares. He saved you because the Ledger is encrypted with your life. If he lets you die, he loses the leverage to burn his rivals. You aren't his fiancé, Jessy. You're his insurance policy."
I looked back through the glass doors at Yuri. He was watching me from across the room, his silhouette tall and commanding. He looked like the man who had shielded me from bullets. He looked like the man who had kissed me until the world vanished.
But as I felt the cold brass key in my pocket, I realized I didn't know which monster was telling the truth.