omething was wrong here. I could tell even if I was the smartest person here. Guards, waiters, and even the man beside me. Everything screamed danger and I didn't know how long I wanted to stay here. My nerves were on edge as if one wrong move, and I'd end up rolling down the cliff.
And to make it worse, the only anchor I could rely on was also the man beside me. I wouldn't say I trusted him in situations like this, I'd seen him doing worse than threatening a man, but something about him today assured me that he'd hurt anyone, or even kill, but not me.
Either I was slowly getting drunk on the champagne or I had lost my mind officially.
My attention was caught by the man at the top of the staircase. He stood tall, broad shoulders accentuated by the sharp cut of his midnight-blue suit. Striking features, familiar in a way I hated. A glass of vodka glinted in his hand as he raised it high.
"Welcome," he bombarded and I cringed at the high intensity. Like I said my senses were quite sensitive today.
I barely had time to process the crowd's subdued murmurs before Judas leaned down.
"He's the president, little bird," he whispered and I looked at him to find his eyes on the man. "Vlad Morozov."
Morozov?
My heart stuttered, and I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of his words. "He's…"
"Yes," Whatever doubt I had in my head was cleared. Morozov as in someone related to Ivan Morozov. My chest clenched and I chugged in the remaining liquor.
My gaze flickered to Judas as he lowered his shades and tucked them into his pocket. My stomach dropped. "Why are you taking those off?" Panic threaded through my voice. "They might suspect you."
A ghost of a smirk danced on his lips. "Maybe it's what I want." His dimples deepened. "Are you worried, ptichka?"
My cheeks flushed and I averted my gaze to his jawline. "I-I am just… curious."
He chuckled before straightening. "Lying once in a while is good."
Before I could argue with him further, Vlad began descending the staircase commanding every eye in the room. His presence was magnetic no doubt and his movements exuded power, but there was an undercurrent of deviousness in his gaze that made my skin crawl.
Like I said, something was strange.
The whispers around us grew louder as Vlad reached the base of the stairs, his glass still in hand. People parted like waves as he strolled through the hall, pausing occasionally to exchange brief pleasantries. Bowing and pressing kisses to his cheek.
When he stopped in front of us, the air seemed to thicken. His sharp eyes landed on Judas, then shifted briefly to me. A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.
"Romanovski," Vlad drawled. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't grace us with your presence tonight."
Judas didn't smile. He didn't even blink. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, his stance deceptively relaxed, like a predator waiting for the right moment to strike. "And miss your grand theatrics? Ridiculous."
Vlad chuckled and something about him made my body shiver with fear. He didn't question why Judas was meeting his eyes. That only left one answer. He knew. And Judas knew he knew. Oh God, what was he thinking?
"Always the charmer, I see. Though I see you've brought... company tonight." His gaze flicked to me again as his smirk widened. "Unusual for you."
He was the second person to tell him that. Did that mean Judas never brought any dates to parties? And I somehow happened to be his first?
I flinched as Judas's hand on my waist tightened ever so slightly warning me to stay quiet, not like I was going to say something. "Perhaps. But you've always been one to notice the smallest of details, haven't you, Vlad?"
My eyes widened at the casual way he addressed him. He was the President for heaven's sake.
Vlad raised an eyebrow clearly looking more amused than anything. "Flattery, Romanovski? That's unlike you."
"Observation," Judas corrected. "Flattery implies I care about your opinion."
The palpable tension between them was unspoken but there. Judas seemed to have bad blood with the entire Morozov clan I depicted. Vlad's smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before he regained his composure and I tugged at Judas's arm.
Please, don't do anything to start World War III.
"She's charming," Vlad gestured toward me with his glass. "Tell me, how did you manage to keep someone so... delicate in your not-so-delicate world?"
"Delicate things have a surprising way of surviving, don't they?" He paused and chuckled. "But then again, you wouldn't know much about that."
Vlad smiled.
"Well, I'll leave you to enjoy the evening. Thanks for the gift you left in the last meeting."
Judas inclined his head slightly. "I have a better present this time."
Vlad gulped his drink. "Looking forward, Romanovski."
And he walked away.
"What was that?" I whispered watching Vlad disappear into the crowd. "What gift are you talking about?"
I hoped it was not someone's head.
Judas's gaze was fixed on Vlad's retreating figure before he looked down at me. "A chandelier, little bird," he murmured. "Don't worry your pretty little head. Just stand there and look pretty."
I stared at him. He couldn't be serious, right?
The champagne flute in my hand quivered as I tried to steady it, but the growing anxiety inside me had rooted itself in my veins. Something was happening-something wrong.
My eyes darted to the guards stationed by the doors on instinct. No, blocking the doors. They weren't facing outward to protect, as they should have been. Instead, their backs were to the room, sealing us in. My chest constricted as the realization hit me. Curtains were being drawn over the windows. It felt like the walls were closing in. A trap.
A flicker of red caught my eye. A dot-small, precise-danced across the crowd, and my breath hitched. A laser sight. I wasn't drunk, not even close. My gaze swept across the room in frantic disbelief. It wasn't just one; there were several, marking targets and one of them was on Vlad's back.
"Judas," I whispered gripping his arm tighter than I intended. My nails dug into the fabric of his suit as I tried to pull him back, trying to make him stop. "What-what is happening?"
He didn't flinch, didn't even look down at me. Instead, he continued his steady stride toward the stairs, like a man taking a casual evening stroll. My panic was met with his infuriating indifference. How could he not feel it?
"Judas, please!" I tugged harder, desperate to break him out of whatever cool façade he'd wrapped himself in. My voice cracked, but I didn't care. "Something-" My words faltered as another red dot flickered onto the staircase ahead of us. My stomach churned. "They're targeting people!"
That finally made him stop. His head turned slightly, his sharp profile catching the faint light. When his gaze slid down to meet mine, his expression was unreadable. Like I didn't know anything about the man who claimed could not live without me.
I stumbled back shaking my head. No. No, no, no.
"Relax, little bird," he caught my arm before I could move further. "It's just a show."
"A show?" My voice broke and my chest heaved, the panic clawing its way up my throat this time. "You-"
"Shhh," his fingers brushed over my lips. "You'll draw attention to yourself."
The champagne glass slipped from my grasp, shattering on the marble floor with a sharp, echoing crack. The sound felt deafening in the hushed, tense atmosphere, and heads turned in our direction. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fear. Judas didn't move.
"Breathe," he commanded as if he hadn't noticed the stares.
I couldn't breathe. My lungs refused to cooperate, and my vision swam. It all felt like a noose tightening around my neck. My hands balled into fists at my sides as I forced myself to focus on him.
And then I heard the thud, like something-or someone-had dropped. My body went rigid, and my breathing stopped altogether. I was too terrified to turn around, too scared to confirm what my instincts screamed at me to see.
Behind me, the room erupted into chaos. Screams, panicked cries, and the sound of hurried footsteps filled the hall. Glass shattered somewhere in the distance. People were pushing, running, desperate to find an escape that didn't exist.
But I couldn't move. My feet were glued to the spot, my eyes fixed on Judas as if he were the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
He sighed, a deep, exasperated sound, as though all of this was just a minor inconvenience to him. "You fucked up, Molotov," he muttered as his gaze slid over my shoulder toward the source of the commotion.
It was then I saw it-a glint in his ear. My stomach dropped. An earpiece. My breath hitched as the realization struck. He'd been in on this all along. He knew.
"You…" My voice was barely a whisper. "What's happening?"
He didn't answer me. His focus was elsewhere, his jaw tightening as he listened to whatever chaos was fed through the earpiece. His hand tightened on my arm, pinning me in place, but the grip was no longer reassuring. It felt like a cage.
"Judas!" I tried again, but this time panic took over. "Talk to me! What the hell is going on?"
His eyes flicked to mine. That cold, pale gaze. "What do you think, little bird?"
"People are dying, Judas! There's blood on the floor-"
"Enough," he snapped and the icy authority in his tone silenced me, but my chest still heaved with ragged breaths. He leaned in, his face close to mine and the warmth of his breath taking mine away. "You don't need to know. You don't want to know."
I shook my head, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. "You promised me-"
He cut me off with a bitter laugh, his dimples flashing in a way that felt more cruel than charming. "And what do you think I promised little bird? A fucking life free of blood?" His hand slid up my arm and pulled me up till his voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I promised to keep you alive. And that's exactly what I'm doing."
Behind me, the chaos continued. More screams, more crashes, more terror. My stomach twisted as I tried to reconcile the man before me with the one I thought I knew.
"What are you?" I whispered in disbelief.
He tilted his head and leaned down before I felt his mouth on the corner of my lips, and he whispered. "Exactly what you feared, ptichka," he murmured. "And exactly what you need."