Camille Devile hated being summoned. Not because anyone could force her physically. That had never been possible, not since training, not even as a child. But obligation was a different kind of restraint. It came dressed in silk invitations and her mother's clipped instructions.
Tonight, the Devile estate shimmered with excess. Crystal chandeliers shone like diamonds from the high ceilings, with beautiful lights bouncing off the polished marble walls. The orchestra played softly as guests walked around in outfits that could solve a city's major problems, wearing diamonds and fake smiles. Their conversations flowed in soft, hushed voices. It felt like a performance. It always had been.
Camille stood near the edge of the room with a flute of champagne she had no intention of drinking. She sighed for the umpteenth time. Her scowl didn't allow for any form of conversation with anyone. Inside, she was counting seconds.
She checked her watch.
It was too early to leave.
She checked her phone.
No update.
A sigh escaped her again. She dropped her flute of champagne on a passing tray and went back to scanning the room. She couldn't leave now. Her presence tonight was mandatory. Patty, her mother's assistant, had made it clear. Important guests would be in attendance, and she had to be here to protect the "family image." The usual excuses.
As if Camille had ever been considered part of that image.
She scanned the room out of instinct. She always did. Her eyes mapped exits, security positions, crowd flow, blind corners. The habit had been trained into her long before she could remember a time without it. Even on break, her mind did not shut down. It only carved out new ways to thrive.
"Camille."
Her shoulders stiffened as she turned.
Her brother stood a few feet away, impeccably dressed in a tux, and right now he stood with a rigid posture. Cool superiority oozed off him. Yup, it was definitely him. 'THE GOLDEN CHILD'. He had always looked like he belonged in rooms like this. Camille had always looked like she had been placed in them by mistake.
"Arnold." She gave a brief nod in greeting.
"You actually showed up." He picked up two flutes of champagne from the tray of a passing server and handed one to her.
"As requested," she replied, taking the flute.
His mouth tilted slightly. Not quite a smile. "Mother will be pleased."
She took a sip and snorted. "She will be relieved. There is a difference."
He studied her for a moment. "You look… distant."
"I feel accurately represented, then."
He exhaled slowly. "You don't always have to be like this, Camille."
"Like what?"
"Difficult."
She took another sip and met his gaze calmly. "Do you confuse boundaries with hostility, brother?"
His eyes hardened. "You have spent years pushing this family away."
She sniggered. "I was pushed first."
A flicker of discomfort crossed his face, gone almost immediately. "You could still choose differently."
"Choose what?" she asked. "A life of appearances? Of pretending I belong to a world that only tolerates me when convenient?"
He hesitated. "Mother is trying."
Camille almost laughed. "Mother is maintaining an image."
"I am?"
Damn it.
She cursed quietly. She hated when her mother snuck up on her without warning. Not even her several years at the agency had the power to alert her of her mother's presence.
She turned with a smile that didn't reach her eyes and stared into steely blue eyes.
"Hello, Mother."
Eleanor De Luca was a stunning vision in a diamond-studded gown. She reeked of elegance and affluence. Her expensive perfume teased the air softly. She looked formidable, but then it had always been that way. Right now, she was staring down the length of her aristocratic nose at her. It was a look Camille remembered all too well. It was the look she reserved for the people she didn't consider her equal, and for the people who didn't follow her bidding. People like her daughter.
"Camille." She gave a sequin smile as her eyes raked over her daughter's form. "You look… appropriate tonight."
Appropriate. Not beautiful. Not welcome. Not missed.
"I do? Thank you, Mother, for noticing that," Camille replied, sarcasm thick in her voice. "Is there anything else you've picked up too? My body count, perhaps?"
Eleanor let her disapproval show on her face as she fixed a baleful gaze on her youngest child.
"I see your tongue is still as lethal as ever," she said, her smile gone now.
Camille felt her spine stiffen as her mother's gaze traveled over her in a way that felt more like assessment than affection. "You should consider joining conversations more. Guests have asked about you."
"That must be inconvenient for them," Camille said evenly.
Arnold shifted uncomfortably. Her mother's expression did not change.
"You remain such a mystery, child," she said grimly.
Camille raised her head high. "Purely intentional, Mother."
Eleanor's gaze sharpened slightly, something colder slipping beneath the surface of her composure.
"Even to your mother?"
She shrugged, "Can't help it."
"I see."
Eleanor smiled at a passing guest, placed an elegant hand in her son's arm, and fixed a steely look on Camille. "Do try not to leave too early. I have some people I want you to meet."
Not because she wanted her daughter there. But because her absence would raise questions.
Arnold shot a pleading look at his sister and walked away with their mother. Camille inclined her head politely and watched them walk away together.
She felt nothing.
Or maybe she felt too much and had learned to bury it.
She turned back to the crowd and took a small sip of her champagne and made a small face. The warm taste wasn't appealing at all. She set the glass aside. Her thoughts threatened to drift toward her last mission. She cut the memory off before it could fully form.
Not tonight.
Her gaze lifted again, scanning the room.
That was when she saw him.
He stood near the far wall, untouched drink in hand. He was not engaged in any conversation, although half the ladies present were ogling at him shamelessly. He stood still, eyes roaming the room with a bored expression on. He did not look like the other men in the room who pretended disinterest while secretly searching for approval. This man was a different breed.
Interesting.
Their eyes met.
Camille did not look away.
He did not either. He cocked his head to the right and lifted his flute to her slightly in acknowledgment.
She broke eye contact first and reached for another glass from a passing waiter turning her back to him deliberately.
A moment passed.
Then the wonderful scent of something utterly male filled Camille's nose. She took a deep breath in, filling her lungs with more of this potent elixir. His scent was a combination of an expensive cologne and something unique.
"Are you always this disengaged at events like these?"
His deep voice was low and calm. It washed over her soothingly. It was pleasing to her ears. Smelling nice and sounding good, he sure as hell ticked all the right boxes.
Camille did not startle. She turned slowly and stared up at him.
He was taller than she had expected. Camille let her eyes trail down his face, down to his broad chest and she nearly drooled.
Damn...God, you took your time with this one. She thought.
His dark hair was immaculately combed back, revealing a face that was both beautiful and lethal.
"Are you always this comfortable approaching strangers?" she asked.
He studied her briefly. "Only the ones who look like they would not be offended."
"And what makes you think I am not?"
He considered the question for a second, then asked, "Are you?"
Camille stared at him above the rim of her flute. "I'm not, but doesn't mean I'm not curious though."
He chuckled, and Camille felt her stomach do a double take. He looked wolfishly handsome when he did that.
Boy... if you're trying to seduce me, it's working!
She took a long sip to steady her composure.
"You don't strike me as the type of woman to waste her energy on offense," he said
"Indeed," she considered. "What is your name?" she asked.
"Kade."
"Just that?"
He smirked. "Just that."
Camille dropped her empty flute on a passing tray and stared at him nonplussed.
"What about you?" Kade asked.
She hesitated. Two can play at this game, she thought.
"Camille," she said finally.
Not Devile.
Just Camille.
"Camille," He said it slowly and nodded once, as if committing it to memory. "You look like you would rather be anywhere else."
She sighed. "I would rather be somewhere else, honestly."
"Then you came to the wrong gathering."
Camille gave a faint smile.
"Are you here alone?" she asked.
"I am."
Kade made a show of looking around.
Camille raised a brow. "Looking for someone?"
He shrugged, "Just checking to see if any beau is going to pop up and come for my head."
She snorted.
"Trust me, there's no "beau" anywhere."
Kade moved closer, causing Camille to tilt her head further back. "You won't mind dancing with me then."
She blinked. "That was not a question."
"No."
Camille studied him for a long second.
She had spent the entire evening suffocating in boredom. This was the first moment that felt unscripted.
"Fine, "she said. "One song."
The dance floor swallowed them into dim light and motion. Camille felt his hand settle on her back while the other drew her closely by the waist. He moved elegantly, twirling her around and then bringing her back to him effortlessly. She followed easily.
Couples on the dance floor gawked openly and moved to give them center stage. Camille caught sight of her mother staring at her from the top of the winding stairway. She looked... Well... it was too far to tell her expression and frankly she didn't care.
Her eyes settled back on his and she was immediately mesmerized. Grey orbs with black rings circling them. They were the most beautiful thing she had ever set her eyes on. Her eyes flitted down to his lips, soft and inviting with silky moustache hair atop them, and she felt herself go warm as indecent thoughts came to her mind. She wondered how those lips would taste on hers and for a moment, she was tempted to find out.
His rumbling voice so close to her ear jolted her from her indecent reverie "Enjoying the view?"
She looked back up and found him staring intensely. She was aware of his body. Of his attention. Of the fact that he never once overstepped. That alone made him dangerous.
She stroked his shoulder with her right hand before replying.
"I am," then she smirked. "The view is very nice."
He chuckled lowly and brushed her hair away from her neck softly. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.
Camille clenched her hands on his shoulder subconsciously as the tingling sensation intensified. What was happening to her? Why was he having this weird effect on her?
His eyes flitted back open and he did the last twirl then brought her back to him, her back to his chest.
"You smell divine."
"I know I do," she purred.
His lips brushed the shell of her ear and Camille felt herself shiver in anticipation.
Anticipation of what? She wondered.
The song ended but neither of them moved immediately, Camille rested her head on Kade's chest, her figure fitting perfectly with his masculine form.
"Shall we go to the balcony to get some fresh air?" He whispered into her ear.
Camille's eyes drifted close for a second then flitted back open.
"Sure."
He placed her hands in the crook of his arm and together they drifted toward the balcony. The air outside was cooler. The balcony had muted lights that granted privacy and comfort. Camille placed her hands on the rail and took in the night, with Kade standing a few paces behind her.
She turned and cocked her head.
"Are you just going to stand there, Kade?"
"Hm." He tucked his hands in his pocket and stepped forward. "My name sounds different coming from your mouth."
She didn't move away, she just leaned against the railing slightly.
"Does it?"
"Yeah," his gaze dropped to her lips. "I noticed you looking earlier."
"Maybe I was just being curious."
He stepped closer.
Camille felt it before he even touched her. That shift in the air again. Steamy and dangerous.
Kade trailed his lips on her neck slowly, leaving a trail of molten fire in its wake. Camille moaned softly and arched her neck more for him.
He brushed his lips on hers. "I hope to satisfy your curiosity."
The kiss came slowly. Like he was testing her reaction rather than taking anything from her. Her body's first reaction was to shut down completely before coming alive with a very high intensity. She let out a little moan as he slanted his lips and deepened the kiss, skimming her arm with his fingertips
The feeling was exhilarating and for a moment, she allowed herself to exist in nothing but the sensation he created in her, but then her sense of caution returned and she pulled back and took a deep breath.
"This is where I stop," she said quietly.
Kade's hand came up slowly, brushing just beneath her jaw, tilting her face toward his.
Her breath hitched.
That annoyed her.
"My kiss overwhelms you?" he asked.
She snorted.
"You're so full of yourself," she murmured.
"Indeed, I am," he smirked.
He used his thumb to brush her lower lip lightly.
Her pulse spiked.
Camille's hand came up, stopping his wrist mid-motion.
Their eyes locked.
Something unspoken passed between them. His eyes shone with desire as they searched for something in hers, but all he found was a naked longing.
"Careful," she said, her voice low.
His lips curved slightly.
For a second, she almost let go.
Almost.
Then she stepped back and he did not reach for her again. He simply watched her with a gaze so intense that made her legs feel like jelly.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because I do not lose control with strangers."
"And yet you did," he said softly.
"No. I chose to." She held his gaze. "Besides, I don't make the same mistake twice."
His gaze sharpened. "What mistake would that be?"
She held his eyes, reached out to clean the lipstick on his lips slowly, and then turned and walked away without throwing a single glance back.
Camille did not see the way his eyes followed her departure. She did not know this would not be the end. She only knew that she had just walked away from the most intriguing man she had ever met. And that unsettled her more than she cared to admit.