When we got back to the city, we had another ball to attend.
The villa's opulent ballroom was a height of decadent excess, shrouded in midnight blue and gold, lit by crystal chandeliers low-hung like strings of golden fireflies and throwing spinning shafts of golden light onto the ocean of upper-crust faces. There was muted conversation, clinking glasses, and the soft thrum of live orchestra music as it created a waltz that echoed through marble floors.
I hung back, in the midst of the crowd, while Caspian walked through them with fluid nonchalance, his very presence unavoidable. Resplendent in a black silk tuxedo, the absolute symbol of self-assurance tempered by iron—if not an atom more soft and vulnerable within—Irving-beyond-money-no-doubts-not-yes-the-unequalled-dedication.His face unremittingly unchanging, his stance filling space with mute solidity. The untouchable tycoon.
And I no more than onlooker there.
A chilled glass of champagne in my hand, untouched, as I checked out the room. Caspian schmoozed with investors, politician speak, and offered a flash of a smile the direction of a woman wearing green who treated him like property. The logical part of my mind constantly reminding me that this was his turf. This was who he had to be—strong, smart, guarded.
But the woman in me, the woman who'd been seared at the touch of his eyes, pinched at the touch of his fingers, destroyed by the drop of his guard with me—she blazed with something I would not admit.
I wasn't where I was supposed to be.
And yet he'd brought me.
As if he heard me think, Caspian's eyes lit up in my direction. In the distance, his dreamy eyes met mine, freezing me in position. My breath halted, and instantly all the commotion, all the noise, all the background voices dissolved. There was just him.
His jaw clenched for a moment, his hand gripping the glass he held as if it fought against some unseen tug between us. Air escaped his mouth in a slow, deliberate exhalation before he let go of the group of people he'd been involved with. He moved across the room with the quiet intensity of a hunter tracking prey, his steps deliberate, every movement heavy with control.
I wanted to be gone from there. I wanted to turn my face aside, pretended ignorance of the unspoken tension that seemed to crackle between us.
But I didn't.
"Dance with me."
It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a request. It was an order, and it was one that had been issued in a voice so deep and gruff that I had shivered in response. His hand on my waist, pulling me out onto the dance floor, before I could protest, before I could remind myself this was a mistake.
The orchestra swelled, the music something slow and agonizing. Caspian's fingers wrapped around mine, his grip firm but gentle, as if he recalled how easily he could break me. His other hand was at the small of my back, holding me steady through the dress.
I swallowed. "People are looking."
His mouth curled into the smallest smile. "Let them."
I had danced before, but like this. Never with a man who did get me the way he got me, in every possible way belonged to him. Never with a man who was so unselfconscious moving around with such ease that my head would spin. Every turn, every step, was an instinctive game of give-and-take, an act of will. He made a move and I responded. But lacking tension in his shoulders, the tightening of his fingers around mine as if he was holding himself by their thread. "Caspian—"
"Don't." His voice so hard it ached. His hand around me closing tight for a moment before opening again, getting himself together once more. "Dance."
I did.
I let myself become lost in the moment, the feel of him against me, the feel of the brush of his breath on my temple. My heart pounded in my ears, breaking sense. And then, just as I was about to fall completely into him, his eyes darkened.
His hold on me relaxed, his body easing. I saw where his eyes were, and my stomach went cold.
There was a man along the ballroom wall, standing as a specter no one welcomed in the golden light. He was an older man, maybe late forties, and wore a slick suit that could not completely cover the hard roughness of menace that clung to him. His eyes—keen, assessing—were on Caspian.
Caspian's entire attitude changed. The warmth of us was traded for something cold, sinister. His hand released from mine, his arm dropping from around my waist as he stepped away, his expression blank.
"Stay here," he breathed, the voice chill.
And with that, he vanished.
I stepped back a pace, looking at him as he approached the man, their gazes meeting in silent conflict.
The air was heavy, the tension between them almost palpable, and I could sense whatever it was taking form between them. I didn't hear the words, but I saw the way Caspian's shoulders tightened, the way the tendon in his jaw flexed. The man sneered, his face distorted into a smirking, knowing one, and Caspian's fists clenched at his sides. A creeping sense of revulsion crept Into my bones. Whatever this man was, he wasn't some other corporate rival. This was personal.
I shouldn't have crossed. I should have stayed where I was left by Caspian. But there was a part of me that refused to let him do this without me. So I pushed forward, thrusting into the crowd of witnesses, drawn into the whirlpool opening up before me.
Caspian spun around as I reached them, his eyes ablaze with something unspoken and feral. A warning.
Too late, however.
The man faced me, the smile condescending. "Ah," he slow-sipped his whiskey. "So this is the woman that has been filling your head."
I didn't move.
Caspian's entire body tensed beside me, his fingers quivering at his hips as if holding himself back from doing something wicked.
The man smiled. "You take care of yourself, Miss Carter." His voice was echoing out smooth, but beneath something nasty and threatening was lurking. "Once you're in Caspian Grey's world, you may find it isn't quite so easy to just walk away."
I was chilled. He wasn't advising me. He was threatening me.
Caspian moved slowly, purposefully, ahead, never once taking his eyes away from the face of the man, his hand loosely resting on his hips. He growled at low, icy pitch. "If you so much as look at her again, I'll kill you."
The man guffawed as if he were tickled pink by the idea. "We shall see about that."
And then, as quietly as he had appeared, he wheeled and disappeared into the crowd, leaving only the oppressive weight of his having been there.
The room was too small, too noisy. I struggled to breathe, my heart racing in my chest as the truth of what had happened crashed down around me.
Caspian whirled to me, face ablaze, frantic. "Lily—
I shook my head, retreating, the words echoing in my head.
As soon as you become a part of Caspian Grey's world, you discover it isn't as easy to depart from the way you initially believed.
I had been aware—at one point, I was always aware—that Caspian's world was made up of shadows and mysteries. Tonight, however, was the first night I fully comprehended this.
This was more than his world.
I was a part of it, as well, now.