Chapter 9 - The Devil's Dance
Three days passed in a tense, claustrophobic haze.
The upper levels of Blackwood Manor were repaired with breathtaking speed. Crews worked around the clock, replacing shattered glass with bulletproof laminate, reinforcing steel doors, and repairing the shredded drywall. But Elena remained largely confined to the living quarters of the main wing, Leo’s hand almost permanently glued to hers.
The boy had developed an intense attachment to her. Whenever Elena left the room, Leo’s anxiety flared into quiet tears, only subsiding when she returned.
Elena stood in the manor’s private library, organizing a stack of books for Leo’s afternoon reading session. The afternoon light cast long golden bars across the dark oak floor.
""You should rest,"" a voice murmured from behind the floor-to-ceiling shelves.
Elena didn't startle. Over the past seventy-two hours, she had learned to recognize the subtle shift in pressure that preceded Viktor’s arrival. He walked around the mahogany desk, holding a slim folder. He wore a tailored charcoal suit, looking every bit the ruthless corporate titan he presented to the legitimate business world.
""Rest makes me think,"" Elena said, sliding a thick encyclopedia into place. ""And thinking makes me realize how completely absurd my life has become.""
Viktor stopped a foot away from her. ""You are adjusting remarkably well for an ordinary waitress.""
""I am not adjusting. I am surviving,"" she countered, turning to face him. ""There is a difference.""
Viktor’s lips twitched with the ghost of an amused smile. He set the folder on the reading table. ""This arrived from Dante’s intermediaries. An invitation.""
Elena glanced down at the heavy, cream-colored cardstock embossed with gold foil. ""An invitation to what?""
""The Autumn Solstice Gala. At the Grand Carlton,"" Viktor said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. ""Every syndicate head, politician, and judge in the state will be in attendance. It is neutral ground. Under the Syndicate Accord, no weapons are permitted within the ballroom.""
""Why would he invite you if he’s trying to kill your son?""
""Because Dante wants to show the city that he is not afraid of the Vane family. And he wants to inspect the woman who took his poison pin and survived."" Viktor leaned in, his dark eyes fixing her with predatory focus. ""He expects me to arrive alone, hiding my son and his guardian behind fortress walls. He expects fear.""
Elena’s eyes widened as she grasped his intention. ""You want me to go with you.""
""I want the entire world to see you beside me,"" Viktor said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, hypnotic timbre. ""I want Dante to look into your eyes and realize that the woman protecting my son has more courage in her little finger than he possesses in his entire cartel.""
May you like
Elena took a step back, her back hitting the edge of the shelf. ""I don't belong in ballrooms, Viktor. I belong in an apron.""
Viktor closed the distance, his hand rising to touch the smooth line of her collarbone, his fingers burning hot against her skin. ""You belong wherever I place you, Elena. And on that floor, you will wear diamonds, not an apron. And you will show them what it means to be protected by blood.""
