Chapter 16: A Dress for a Party

RORY

When I opened the door, Nikolai didn’t step inside. He just looked me over, his expression carved from stone.

“Get dressed,” he said.

I blinked. “It’s midnight.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Not for sleeping.”

Before I could ask, he pushed a garment bag into my hands. It was heavy, smooth beneath my fingers, and when I unzipped it, I almost laughed.

Almost.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Inside was a gown—deep emerald satin, strapless, with a slit up one side that would probably make my father faint. If he were still around.

“I’m not wearing this,” I said, trying to hand it back.

Nikolai’s mouth curved the slightest bit, like he was amused but wouldn’t admit it. “You are. There’s a gathering tonight. You’re coming.”

I crossed my arms. “And if I say no?”

“You won’t.”

That infuriating certainty in his voice made my jaw clench. “You think I’m just going to play dress-up for you?”

“Not for me,” he said. “For them. You’ll smile. You’ll stay close. And you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

Ah. There it was. The warning Kai had given me wasn’t just about what I’d heard—it was about where they were taking me.

I stared at the dress again. The color was rich, the fabric expensive. And I hated that a tiny part of me wanted to see how it would look on.

“Five minutes,” Nikolai said, already turning away. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was tempted to lock the door and refuse. But something in his tone told me that wouldn’t end well.

The gown fit like it had been made for me—which, knowing them, it probably had. The slit revealed far too much leg, the neckline far too much skin. I’d never felt so exposed and yet… strangely powerful.

There were also shoes in the bag. Stiletto heels. I groaned but slipped them on, wobbling just enough to feel ridiculous.

When I stepped out, Nikolai’s eyes flicked over me once. No lingering, no obvious approval—just an assessment, like I was another piece of equipment he’d ordered for the night.

“Good,” he said simply.

“That’s it?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He just started walking, and I followed, the click of my heels echoing in the quiet halls.

We reached the main foyer, where the other three were waiting.

Jace whistled. “Well, well. Look who decided to be the belle of the ball.”

“Don’t talk to me,” I said.

“That’s not very obedient,” Enzo murmured, leaning against the banister with that lazy grin. His eyes lingered longer than Nikolai’s had, slow and deliberate, and my cheeks heated.

Kai just glanced at me once, his face unreadable, before returning his attention to his phone.

Nikolai opened the front doors, and the cool night air spilled in. Outside, a sleek black car waited.

No one explained where we were going. They didn’t have to. The way they moved—controlled, purposeful—told me enough.

The ride was silent except for the hum of the engine. I stared out the window at the blur of city lights, trying to guess what kind of “gathering” required me to look like a doll on display.

When we arrived, the driver opened my door, and I stepped out into a different world.

The building was old but grand, lit from within by warm golden light. A doorman in a dark suit gave a respectful nod as we entered, and the murmur of voices washed over me.

Inside was a ballroom straight out of some movie—crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, people dressed in silks and jewels. Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air.

Every head seemed to turn as the four heirs walked in. And me, trailing just behind them like an accessory.

I caught more than one curious glance in my direction. Some were openly appraising. Others… sharper.

Jace leaned close enough for his breath to tickle my ear. “Remember to smile. You’re here to make them think we’re all on the same page.”

I gave him the fakest smile I could muster.

Enzo stayed at my other side, his hand brushing mine now and then in a way that felt calculated. Possessive.

We moved through the room like they owned it—which, knowing them, they might. People greeted them with a mix of deference and caution. I wasn’t introduced to anyone, but I felt eyes on me constantly.

“Stay close,” Nikolai murmured once, low enough that only I heard.

I sipped the champagne that had been pressed into my hand, the bubbles sharp on my tongue. I had no idea who half these people were, but I knew enough to guess they weren’t the type you wanted to offend.

Hours seemed to stretch. I played the part—standing where I was told, nodding when someone made a comment I didn’t understand, pretending I belonged.

But the longer I stayed, the more I noticed the undercurrents. Quick glances exchanged between powerful men. Conversations that stopped when I walked past. The subtle tension in the air.

And every so often, I caught Kai watching me from across the room—not with suspicion this time, but like he was making sure I stayed exactly where they wanted me.

At one point, I drifted toward the edge of the crowd, just to get a breath. That’s when I felt a hand on my arm.

Not one of theirs.

The man was older, sharp-eyed, his grip firm but not painful. “You’re his daughter,” he said.

My breath caught. “What?”

He smiled faintly, like he’d confirmed something. “Tell your father his time is running out.”

Before I could reply, Nikolai was there, stepping between us, his body a solid barrier.

“She’s not here to talk business,” he said evenly.

The man chuckled. “She’s here whether you like it or not.”

Nikolai’s gaze didn’t move from his. “Walk away.”

The man did, slowly, but not before giving me one last look that made my skin crawl.

Nikolai’s hand closed around my wrist—not rough, but firm enough to remind me he could drag me out if he wanted. “Stay where I can see you.”

My heart was racing as he led me back toward the center of the room.

I didn’t know who that man was. But I knew one thing: whatever game the heirs were playing tonight, I was a piece on the board.

And I had just been noticed by someone dangerous.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of lights, voices, and the metallic taste of fear at the back of my throat.

When we finally left, the air outside felt too cold, like it was cutting through the thin fabric of the dress.

The car ride back was silent again. But this time, I could feel it—an unspoken tension, like something had shifted.

When we reached the mansion, Nikolai didn’t let me go to my room. Instead, he steered me toward his study.

I opened my mouth to ask why, but he shut the door behind us and said, in that same steady voice—

“Who was the man you spoke to?”