Chapter 13
The Prey
M y heart pounds beneath my emerald green silk gown as I step into the glittering ballroom. The chandelier light catches on the diamond choker around my throat—a gilded collar that feels more like a noose with each passing moment. Michael’s hand on my lower back is possessive, oppressive. I want to shrug it off, but I know better.
My eyes scan the crowd, searching for a friendly face, any port in this storm of fake smiles and predatory gazes. The room is a sea of designer dresses and crisp tuxedos, champagne flutes glinting like teeth. I feel exposed, vulnerable. Every instinct screams at me to flee, but there’s nowhere to run.
“Stand up straight,” Michael hisses in my ear, his breath hot and sour. “And smile, for God’s sake. You look like you’re at a funeral.”
I plaster on my best society smile, the one that never reaches my eyes. “Yes, dear,” I murmur, the words tasting like ashes in my mouth.
That’s when I spot them across the room—Carolina, resplendent in a curve-hugging red gown that leaves little to the imagination. Beside her stands my brother, Nick, his scarred face set in its usual mask of cold indifference. And there’s Jack, fidgeting with his cufflinks, looking as uncomfortable as I feel.
Rel ief washes over me at the sight of my brothers, but it’s short-lived. Michael squashes it as he digs his fingers into my hip. “Don’t you dare embarrass me tonight,” he snarls under his breath, making sure I’m the only one who hears him.
“Embarrass you?” I ask, not sure I understand. It’s not like I forgot to wear underwear or am about to sneeze into the finger food.
“You’re doing it right now,” he seethes, adding pressure to his hold on me. “I’m your husband, Ruby. You know what happens when you step out of line. I won’t hesitate to remind you.”
A tremor runs down my scarred back, my skin silently screaming in protest. It’s been months, if not almost a year, since he last whipped me. But, God, my body and mind still remember the all-searing pain. Not that the pain is the worst part of the memory. No, the worst are still recalling the guttural screams and pathetic whimpers torn from my throat.
“Of course,” I say as pleasantly as I can muster.
As my family approaches, I feel Michael’s grip on me tighten. My skin crawls beneath his touch, but I force myself to remain still, my face a carefully crafted mask of calm.
“Ruby,” Carolina coos, sounding almost deliriously happy, which is weird when she’s talking to me. “You look absolutely divine.”
I manage a weak smile. “Thank you, Carolina. You’re looking lovely as well.”
Nick steps forward, his dark eyes scanning Michael before settling on me. “Ruby,” he says, his voice low and controlled. “It’s good to see you.”
The tension in the air is palpable as Jack shifts uncomfortably beside him. The strain in both my brothers’ faces as they struggle to maintain civility with Michael is plain as day to me.
“Nicklas, Jack,” Michael nods curtly. “Quite the turnout tonight, isn’t it? It’s my company that—”
“Indeed.” Nick interrupts my husband with a clipped word. His smile turns calculated as he raises his voice. “The Knight family always draws a crowd.”
Inwardly, I groan at my oldest brother’s need to antagonize my husban d. Don’t get me wrong, I want to fist bump him for saying what we all know; it’s not Michael’s company that’s responsible for the turnout. It’s us; the Knights.
At the same time, I wish Nick had kept his mouth shut because I’ll be the one to pay for my brother’s insults.
As Jack opens his mouth to speak, a smooth, rich voice cuts through the tension. “Ah, the illustrious Knight family. How delightful to see you all gathered here.”
I turn to see Valentine gliding toward us, his tall frame cutting an impressive figure in his perfectly tailored charcoal suit. My breath catches in my throat as his dark, penetrating gaze meets mine.
“Valentine,” Carolina greets him warmly. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”
Valentine’s lips curl into a charming smile. “I never miss an opportunity to support a good cause, especially when it means rubbing elbows with New York’s finest.”
As he speaks, I feel the atmosphere shift. His presence seems to fill the surrounding space, drawing everyone in. Even Michael’s grip on me loosens slightly as he turns his attention to the newcomer.
I watch, fascinated, as Valentine effortlessly steers the conversation, his charm working its magic on everyone in our little circle. His eyes flicker to mine occasionally, and each time, I feel a jolt of electricity run through me.
“And Ruby,” he says, his voice like velvet as he addresses me directly. “I must say, you’re looking particularly radiant this evening.”
I feel heat rise to my cheeks, my heart racing. “Thank you, Professor Grant,” I manage to reply, my voice barely above a whisper.
As the conversation flows around me, I find myself drawn deeper into Valentine’s orbit. His words, his gestures, the way his eyes seem to see right through me—it’s intoxicating. For a moment, I forget about Michael’s bruising grip, about the suffocating world I’m trapped in.
At this moment, there’s only Valentine, and the dangerous allure he represents.
Reality comes crashing back as Michael pulls me closer, sloppily kissing my cheek. “Excuse me,” he mutters. Then he lets me go and takes a few steps forward, joining Valentine and Carolina as they talk. I know the way he’s giving me his back is purposeful; it’s a silent dismissal.
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop a smile from breaking free. Because now he can’t see me watching Valentine.
“This event is worth noting,” Valentine says, his voice cutting through the chatter like a knife through silk. “Take a look around. The way it’s all executed—the organization, the flow. That’s how things should be done. Smooth. Effortless.”
When his eyes flick to mine, I feel as though he’s telling me something without saying it, testing me. My pulse quickens, and I glance around the room, seeing the charity gala through his eyes.
“Ruby, come here,” Carolina chirps as she waves me over. “Valentine was just about to share his wisdom with us.”
I tentatively take a step forward, but Michael doesn’t budge, so I’m forced to walk around him to Carolina’s side.
“Excuse you,” Jack sneers at my husband.
Nick just shakes his head and elbows our brother in the torso, which is a stupid fucking move. I freeze mid-step, witnessing the fleeting look of pain on Jack’s face. “Nick,” I hiss under my breath.
Jack might be out of the hospital, and he might look fine. But Christ, he was told to take it easy. Which I’m pretty sure means he shouldn’t be elbowed by his big brother anywhere near the bullet hole.
Realizing his mistake, he stammers an apology that Jack waves off. The two of them turn to go to the bar, but before leaving us, Nick turns around and looks straight at Michael. “Come join us for a drink.” It’s not a question, it’s an order. One he’s too happy to oblige.
With Michael gone, I finally feel like I can breathe again, and I quickly join Valentine and Carolina.
“Can you give us any tips on running a charity function?” Carolina asks, clearly eager to continue the conversation.
Valentine nods thoughtfully as he throws himself into an elaborate explanation about not just details for the planning, but also the key staff to make sure we have. Half an hour easily passes while he explains it all to Carolina, who has two new questions for every answer she receives.
The light above us flickers once, and then there are sounds coming from the staging area. As I turn around to see what’s happening, Nick, Jack, and Michael return. The former wraps his arms around Carolina’s waist and pulls her to his side. Jack positions himself behind me as my husband throws his arm over my shoulder.
“Who’s that?” Carolina whispers, gesturing her head toward a man in an all white suit.
“The—”
Feeling like I need to contribute with something, I interrupt Valentine. “That’s the MC. Or Master of Ceremonies, if you will.”
Carolina looks at me like I need to fill in the blanks.
“It’s basically the person who keeps the event running smoothly. He introduces speakers, transitions between parts of the evening, and makes sure there are no awkward gaps in the schedule.” My voice wavers slightly, and I try to push down the rising nerves. “It’s not just about speaking, it’s about… managing the energy of the room.”
As I finish speaking, I notice a sly smile play at the corners of Valentine’s lips. “Hmm.” He cups his chin and looks around. “Since you know so much about it, maybe you should give it a go,” he suggests.
His suggestion floats in the air, and I feel it sink into my skin. I freeze. My hands are damp with nerves, my heart thudding wildly in my chest. Me? Speak in front of all these people? I’m barely able to hold a conversation without overthinking every word.
But then there’s this pull—a desire that’s growing stronger with every second he stares at me like he’s waiting for me to take a step closer to something unknown. The idea terrifies me, my stomach a tight knot of nerves.
Yet, the challenge in his eyes and the thought of pleasing Valentine, of seeing some kind of approval in his eyes, tugs at me harder, making me want to risk everything.
I’m still standing there, rooted to the spot, when Carolina’s voice breaks through the tension, her hand resting lightly on my arm. “You should do it, Ruby. You’d be great.” She says it with a smile, genuine in a way that surprises me. For a moment, I think I could believe her.
From behind me, I feel Jack tense. He hasn’t said a nything, but I know him too well. He’s angry, protective, and I can practically hear the warning forming in his throat, the instinct to shield me from whatever this is.
Michael’s voice slices through the air like a knife. “Ruby?” He laughs, sharp and bitter. “She can’t be trusted to do anything right, let alone make a speech.”
The words cut through me, sharp as glass, familiar in their cruelty. I’m used to this—used to him. But it doesn’t stop the sting, the way my body instinctively shrinks under his gaze, the way my mind screams for an escape.
My mind whirls with conflicting emotions. Michael’s words echo in my head, a constant reminder of my perceived worthlessness. But Valentine’s subtle encouragement, the way his eyes seem to see something in me that even I don’t, pushes me toward the edge of rebellion.
Valentine’s presence anchors me; a lifeline I didn’t know I needed. His eyes are on me, unwavering, and in that moment, something inside me pushes back against Michael’s hold. The fear is still there, but so is something else—a need, a craving.
I want to prove Michael wrong, but more than that, I want to prove Valentine right.
My throat becomes dry, making me swallow hard. “I-I…” Trailing off, I clear my throat and square my shoulders. “I’ll do it.”