Chapter 95 95
They arrived at the venue fashionably late but not so late that they would be noticed for it. Guests were already filtering in, the grand hall alive with polished laughter and the soft clink of crystal glasses.
When Fernando had first told Sofía that he was not only the Alpha of the Ancient Blood Pack but also the formidable head of the Ruiz empire a globally renowned business magnate she had been utterly stunned. A billionaire. Suddenly the sprawling mansion, the fleet of luxury cars, the effortless power he carried in both worlds it all made sense.
Tonight’s event was the silver jubilee celebration of Delorme Enterprises, a prestigious affair attended by the elite. And the Ruiz name had earned its place among them.
Thankfully, Corinne had insisted on watching the children. She had cleverly bribed the boys with a movie night; otherwise, they would have clung stubbornly to their parents. The thought of Fernando and Sofía leaving without them was unacceptable in their little minds.
Fernando laced her delicate hand through his arm and guided her inside. Leaning closer, he murmured, “I forgot to tell you, doll you look breathtaking.”
Her lips curved instantly. “You look very handsome, my Alpha,” she teased softly.
A low groan slipped from him.
He adored when she called him that. It stirred something primal every single time.
“Say that again,” he warned under his breath, voice dipping dangerously low, “and I’ll take you right here. Though afterward, I’d have to eliminate every man in this room for seeing what’s mine.”
She gasped and gave his chest a light warning slap. Behave.
“Mr. Ruiz.” A distinguished man in his late forties approached them.
“Mr. Delorme.” Fernando shook his hand firmly before introducing Sofía as his wife. The host thanked Fernando graciously for attending.
“Come, let me introduce you to Mr. Rousseau,” Delorme said, leading them toward another couple.
“You know Pierre Simon Rousseau,” Delorme added.
Fernando’s lips curved faintly. “Of course.”
He extended his hand.
Pierre clasped it, his sharp gaze assessing. “Fernando Ruiz.”
The air shifted almost instantly. Delorme excused himself to greet other guests, leaving the two men facing each other, tension simmering beneath their composed expressions.
Unaware of the silent clash, Sofía’s attention drifted to the young woman beside Pierre. He held her waist in a possessive grip.
“Hello, I’m Sofía, Fernando’s wife,” she said warmly, stepping forward for a hug.
The girl slipped quickly from Pierre’s hold and embraced her.
“What’s your name?” Sofía asked kindly.
“Isabelle,” Pierre answered smoothly, pulling the girl back to his side before she could respond.
“You’re very beautiful, Isabelle,” Sofía said sincerely. And she was. Youthful, delicate, almost angelic. In stark contrast to Pierre’s cold, shadowed presence.
“Thank you,” Isabelle replied softly. Her voice was sweet but faint.
Sofía frowned slightly as Fernando’s arm suddenly wrapped around her waist, drawing her firmly against him. She glanced from her husband to Pierre, who was holding Isabelle in the same territorial manner.
What was this? Some silent contest?
“I—I need the restroom. Excuse me,” Isabelle whispered. Though meant for Pierre alone, Sofía heard it. The girl’s breathing seemed uneven. Sweat glistened faintly along her hairline.
Pierre’s eyes hardened in warning before he released her.
Isabelle hurried away.
Sofía instinctively moved to follow, but Fernando tightened his hold.
“I need to go too,” she clarified quietly.
He studied her for a second before nodding and letting her slip from his grasp.
“Wife?” Pierre drawled once Sofía was out of earshot, arching a perfect brow at Fernando.
Fernando shrugged lightly.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually in love,” Pierre scoffed.
“That’s none of your concern,” Fernando replied coolly.
They had known each other for years powerful men in the same ruthless world of business, both carrying secrets darker than most would survive. Fernando was fully aware that Pierre Simon Rousseau was an Italian mafia boss. Pierre, meanwhile, sensed there was something unnervingly different about Fernando, though he had never uncovered the truth.
They despised one another and understood each other completely.
Not friends. Not enemies.
Two predators sharing an uneasy alliance.
“The great Fernando Ruiz,” Pierre mocked, “married and in love.”
“If you must know,” Fernando said evenly, a small smile touching his lips, “yes. And it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Pierre’s jaw tightened.
It was the first time they stood face to face with their women beside them.
“You used to say love was weakness,” Pierre reminded him. “A waste of time.”
“I hadn’t experienced it then,” Fernando replied calmly. “Why does it bother you so much? Don’t tell me you’re falling for that young beauty.”
Pierre’s reaction was immediate.
“Don’t call her that,” he growled, fists clenching.
“I don’t do love,” he hissed through his teeth.
Fernando nodded, though the faint amusement on his face only irritated Pierre further.
“Then why are you so possessive?” Fernando asked mildly.
Pierre’s eyes flashed. “Because she’s mine.”
A faint smirk touched Fernando’s lips. “Claimed, then.”
Pierre despised him in that moment.
“Let me guess,” Fernando continued casually. “You think about her constantly.”
Pierre shot him a lethal glare.
And he did.
Isabelle occupied his thoughts far more than he cared to admit.
“That’s how it starts,” Fernando said quietly, almost knowingly. “You’ll figure it out.”
“Fuck off,” Pierre snapped, visibly unsettled and angrier than he wanted to be.