The ball was a night of decadence, in the city's most elite hotel's enormous ballroom. The room was lit by nearly suffocating opulence—crystal chandeliers overhead and small flower table centerpieces on each table. The sound of beautiful pieces played by a string quartet wafted through the room, accompanied by the sound of civility smiles and tinkling glasses of champagne.
I was dressed for the part—midnight blue body-stockings, a gown selected by Caspian himself, though he hadn’t said a word about it . His approval , or lack thereof, had been anticipated in keen, fleeting glances. Tonight, however, they were reserved to the degree which was exceptional, his mask of calm more flawless than usual .
“Try to smile,” Caspian murmured as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear. The warmth of his breath against my ear sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. “We’re here to project strength, not suspicion.”
I smiled stiffly, tension leeching around the edges of my composure. Something was not quite right about tonight. Caspian had been weird all day long, phone plastered to his hand and his face a storm cloud of glowering. And now, looming over me, a giant in his tuxedo, the tension emanating from him seemed limitless.
"You're distracted," I whispered quietly and looked up at him.
His eyes fell on me, harsh and unflinching. "And you're observant "
It wasn’t exactly a denial.
Before I could question him further, a crowd of board members and society's crème descended on us like locusts, their polished and modulated voices pulling him into conversation. I remained standing, a reluctant accomplice, offering plain smiles and letting him have his space.
I couldn't seem to rid myself of that discomfort, though.
I fabricated an alibi from the crowd of needing a bit of air, pushing through the throng to the thinner edges of the ballroom. I didn’t realize I was still clinging to my clutch this tightly until I went outside to the wide-open balcony.
The refreshing night breeze on my cheeks was a relief from the warmth of my rosy face. I rested against the railing, breathing deeply and slumping into contemplation.
I'd been convincing myself all these months now that everything I'd felt for Caspian was superficial, something planted by the game we'd been playing. But reality was more difficult to ignore. He wasn't that tough businessman in my head anymore. I'd seen glimpses of the cracks on his mask—the accidental flashes at his vulnerability he unwittingly revealed to me.
And without realizing it, I cared.
The soft hushed voices woke me from my daze. I edged towards voices, automatically dropping into cover.
"Grey's distracted . He's too busy with domestic arrangements to notice what's right in front of him."
I was holding my breath.
The men talking were just inside the patio doors. Their faces shadowed half-way, their voices not.
"This is irresponsible," one of them growled. "If he ever gets wind—“
"He won't," the first man cut in. "Not in time. His kingdom will be lost before he realizes "
My hand was still on my mouth, my pulse thudding in my ear. Those were familiar voices. They were those of two of Caspian's most senior staff members, men I had talked to dozens of times in his office.
Panic clutched at my chest . This was not gossip —this was cold betrayal. And if they were right, Caspian had no clue.
I waited until the men had gone further into the crowd before I returned to the ballroom. Bemused, I navigated through the room to find myself at Caspian's side. He was still ringed by a group of admirers, mask firmly in place, as he steered the conversation with practiced ease.
When finally his eyes came to rest on me in the crowd, I did not even attempt to conceal the desperation on my face. He was pushing people in the crowd aside and strode in silence past my flank, closing the distance between us in two strides.
"What is it?" he growled.
I glanced about to make sure that no one was close enough to listen. "We have to talk. Now."
His brows drew together, but he didn’t argue.
He led me to a quieter corner of the ballroom, his hand on the small of my back.
“Lily, what’s going on?”
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “I overheard something. Two of your executives—they’re plotting against you. They said you’re too distracted to notice.”
He was rigid for a moment, his face white and hard. Then his jaws clenched tight in a steel vice and his eyes flashed a devilish spark.
"Who?" he muttered.
"I didn't see any faces, but I know their voices," I screamed wildly. "I'm certain."
His lips were pressed hard together in a white line. He nodded curtly rather than raging. "Stay here."
"Caspian—"
"Stop. Here."
I stood helplessly watching as he marched off down the corridor from me, stiff-footed and focused. My heart heaving in my chest, I trailed him as he went in search of them , knowing this was going to turn nasty.
The battle raged on so fast the room would have taken its breath and stopped.
Caspian saw them at the bar, their laughter ceasing when they knew they had been noticed. His voice was silken and lethal as he said something to them, his huge body looming over them in comparison.
I missed what he said, but I sensed the tension that hung in the air. One of the men attempted to stand up to him, but Caspian cut him off with a smooth gesture, his fury simmering just beneath the surface.
The witnesses started to murmur, shifting uncomfortably in their seats as they observed. I wished I could turn away, but I couldn't. This wasn't a test of dominance—it was something on a more personal level.
Standing there, watching him berate the men who betrayed him, I was filled with a mix of strange emotions. Pride, for the way in which he filled a space. Fear at the cold that snarled back at me from his eyes. Something else—something that I was not yet ready to name.
Once he'd done that, Caspian returned to me. His face a serene mask, but the fire in his eyes left me breathless.
"You shouldn’t have gotten yourself involved " he said to me, his voice obstinate but resolute.
"I wasn't going to stand there and do nothing," I snapped at him, not willing to yield.
We just stared at each other for a moment, the tension between us thick.
"Thank you," he said finally, his voice low.
I hadn't sought thanks from him, but it was what I saw in his eyes that absolutely crushed me. There was the thanks, of course, and something more—something I refused to believe.
As sunset approached and customers were to leave, I couldn't help but ask myself:
Was I fighting on Caspian Grey's behalf because I wanted to?
Or because I needed to?