Chapter 26 Social gauntlet

Chapter 26 Social gauntlet
 KAI’S POV.
  I stood at the top of the grand staircase, the weight of the Thornefield name settling over my shoulders like a shroud. Below, the foyer was a sea of moving shadows—waiters in white gloves, security guards with earpieces, and the distant, muffled roar of the elite gathered in the ballroom.
  My heart was doing something it shouldn't…it was thudding. Not with fear, I had long ago burned the capacity for fear out of my system, but with a nervous energy I couldn't quite suppress.
  Richard was down there, Evelyn was down there, and every single person in that room was a professional observer of the human condition, trained from birth to spot a fake. If I played this as a business arrangement, they would see through it in seconds. If I acted like I was just "dating" her, they would call it a phase. To win tonight, I couldn't just pretend to love Briselle. I had to look like a man who had been utterly, irrevocably ruined by her.
  I felt a slight weight on my arm. I turned, and for a heartbeat, the plan in my head stalled.
  Briselle stood there, draped in emerald silk that looked like it had been poured over her skin. The stylists had done their job but it was the look in her eyes that caught me. She looked like she was facing a firing squad, her chin tilted up in a desperate, beautiful display of defiance.
  "Ready?" I asked. My voice sounded deeper, thicker than usual.
  "No," she whispered.
  I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. I didn't care if the stylists were still lurking in the hallway or if there was a hidden camera in the molding. The performance started now. But as I smelled the scent of the expensive soap and the faint, lingering trail of her citrus perfume, the line between "performance" and "reality" blurred.
  "Don't look at them," I murmured, my hand sliding from her arm to the small of her back. I let my fingers splay across the silk, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric. "Look at me. Only me. If you’re looking at me like you’re searching for a lifeline, they’ll think it’s devotion. Let them think you’re obsessed, Briselle. It makes my job easier."
  We began the walk down. I didn't walk with my usual predatory stride, I slowed down, matching her pace, my body angled toward hers as if I were a planet trapped in her gravity. I kept my gaze fixed on her profile, a small, private smile playing on my lips—the kind of smile a man wears when he thinks no one is looking.
  Halfway down the stairs, I saw them. Richard stood at the base of the staircase, his hands clasped behind his back, his face a mask of granite. Beside him, Evelyn was draped in silver, her eyes narrowed like a hawk’s. Lukas was hovering near the bar, already nursing a drink, his sneer visible even from twenty feet up.
  "Deep breath," I whispered to her.
  I didn't just lead her down the stairs, I doted on her. I paused three steps from the bottom to adjust the strap of her dress, my fingers lingering on her shoulder just a second too long. I leaned in and whispered a joke I didn't feel, something about how Richard’s tie looked like a noose—just to make her lips twitch into a genuine smile.
  When she smiled, her whole face transformed. It wasn't the "pretty" the stylists had given her, it was a flash of the girl from the library, the one who fought me at every turn. And in that moment, I didn't have to act "gone" for her. The air in my lungs felt tight for a reason that had nothing to do with my father.
  When we reached the bottom, the silence that hit us was physical.
  "Father," I said, my voice smooth and resonant. I didn't let go of Briselle’s waist, in fact, I pulled her slightly closer, my thumb hooked into the silk of her dress. "Evelyn. I believe you’ve heard quite a bit about Briselle. But pictures don't really do her justice, do they?"
  Richard didn't speak for a long time. He looked at Briselle, not as a person, but as a variable in a mathematical equation. He looked at the way I was holding her, the way my body was shielded toward her, the way I wouldn't stop touching her back.
  "She is...presentable," Richard said, his voice like grinding stones. "A bit young, perhaps. But she has a certain...gravity."
  "She’s the only thing keeping me grounded these days, Father," I said, looking down at her with a gaze so heavy with simulated longing it felt like lead. I reached out and took her hand, interlacing our fingers. Her palm was slightly damp, her pulse jumping against my thumb.
  I leaned down and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her temple. I did it slowly, making sure Evelyn saw the way my eyes closed, making sure Richard saw the "vulnerability" in the curve of my neck.
  "You're shaking," I murmured against her skin, low enough for only the vipers to hear. "Don't. You're the most beautiful thing in this house right now."
  Evelyn stepped forward, her silver gown hissing against the marble. "A freshman? Kai, dear, I thought you were over your 'charity' phase. What is it about her? The scholarship? The...humble origins?"
  I felt Briselle stiffen. I felt the sharp intake of her breath. Before she could speak, before she could let the hurt show, I laughed. It was a soft, dark sound.
  It’s the fact that she’s the only person in this room who doesn't want something from me, Evelyn," I said, my grip on Briselle’s hand tightening—a silent command to stay still. "She’s a rarity. You wouldn't understand the concept of 'disinterested' affection, would you?"
  Richard’s eyes flickered. That was a hit. He valued loyalty above all else, and the idea that I had found someone "untainted" by the Thornefield greed was the ultimate bait. But the thing is, Briselle couldn’t just remain a mannequin. If she remained silent, she was just another one of my acquisitions. Richard respected strength, he respected those who could stand in the heat of the Thornefield sun without blinding.
  "Say hello, darling," I murmured, my voice a velvet caress that carried just enough weight to be a command. I squeezed her hand, a grounding pressure. "Don't be shy. My father has been looking forward to meeting the girl who finally made me stop looking at my watch every five minutes."
  Briselle took a shallow breath. I felt her ribcage expand against my arm. She didn't look at the floor, she did exactly what I’d told her: she looked at me first, drawing strength from my feigned devotion, and then she turned that gaze toward the granite face of Richard Thornefield.
  "It is an honor to finally meet you, Mr. Thornefield," she said. Her voice was small, but it didn't tremble. It had a crystalline clarity that cut through the low thrum of the orchestra tuning in the next room. "Kai has told me so much about the foundation. It’s inspiring to see the legacy behind the man."
  She shifted her gaze to Evelyn, and I felt a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth.
  "And Mrs. Thornefield," Briselle continued, her eyes sweeping over Evelyn’s silver gown with a polite, measured interest. "That color is stunning on you. It reminds me of the moonlight on the lake back home. Very... ethereal."
  Evelyn’s smile didn't reach her eyes, but it faltered for a fraction of a second. She wasn't used to the prey complimenting the predator. 
  As the night began to roar into motion—the music starting, the guests flooding in, I stayed "on." I had to. Someone was always watching. Lukas was trailing us like a vulture, Evelyn was whispering to the wives of board members, Richard was watching from the balcony.
  I found myself acting "gone" even when we were tucked into a corner by the tall French doors. I reached out to fix a stray hair that wasn't even there. I leaned in to whisper nonsense into her ear just so I could be close to her warmth.
  I found myself yearning for her to look at me, not with the fear she had earlier, but with the spark of the girl who had called me a monster. Because in this room full of porcelain dolls and plastic smiles, her anger was the only thing that felt alive.
  "You're doing it," she whispered, her eyes wide as a waiter passed with a tray of champagne. "You're actually making them believe it. You look...you look like you actually like me."
  "I told you," I said, my voice dropping to a rasp. I stepped into her space, blocking her from the room, creating a private world of two in the middle of a hundred people. I took both of her hands in mine and brought them to my chest, right over my heart. "I have to be gone for you, Briselle. If I’m not 'gone,' we’re both dead."
  I looked at her mouth, my mind spinning. Was I still acting? I could feel my heart hammering against her knuckles. I wanted to pull her into the shadows of the library. I wanted to tell her that I was starting to forget why I had blackmailed her in the first place.
  "Kai?" she breathed, her voice filled with a sudden, genuine confusion.
  "Smile," I commanded softly, my eyes never leaving hers. "Someone is watching from the mezzanine. Make them think I’m saying the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard."
  I leaned in, my lips centimeters from hers. I could see the reflection of the chandeliers in her dark eyes. I stayed there, suspended in the lie, feeling the pull of her like a physical weight.
  "I have you," I whispered. "No matter what happens tonight, I have you."
  For the first time in my life, as I felt the heat of her skin and the frantic beat of her heart, I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince anymore—my father, or myself.