CHAPTER 58
Riven
My Demons - Starset
The building looms over us, a monument carved from glass and black steel. Its sweeping geometric facade is lined with towering columns of illuminated smart glass, while a vast staircase leads to monumental bronze doors engraved with the city's crest.
“Don't get lost,” I tell Evren as I step out of the car.
“I can’t. I'll just have to follow your pretty ass around.” He climbs out and falls into step beside me.
His hand finds the small of my back.
The gesture is simple, but it makes my heart pound so hard I'm sure he can hear it.
We walk toward the entrance, and he leans close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin.
“There are hidden security systems, surveillance drones, and plainclothes agents. Every guest is being watched as carefully as they're being welcomed,” he says calmly.
“How do you know?” I ask, tilting my head as we keep walking.
He winks before lowering his voice to a whisper.
“Ren's in my ear. He's guiding me and making sure we can plant the device without being seen.”
I nod.
Good.
He's reckless, but he knows how this kind of operation works.
I don't. The idea was mine, but the execution?
That's all him.
Me? I'd usually just kick the door in and set enough things on fire until people give me what I want.
Suddenly, a swarm of paparazzi drones surrounds us as we approach the doors.
A barrage of flashes erupts, the light blinds me for a few seconds.
My eyes have always been sensitive to that kind of thing.
I feel Evren tense, like he's seconds away from exploding.
I grab his hand, lace our fingers together, and pull him inside.
We step into an elevator, and I press the button for the top floor.
“Ren,” Evren says. “Hack the drones and delete those pictures or change my face. I don't want to be recognized in this Upper Layers bullshit.”
A moment passes before he gives a small nod and relaxes slightly.
Then he turns to face me fully.
“What?” I ask, trying to sound cold.
“I want to stop this elevator,” he says quietly, “and fuck you right here.”
“No,” I say coldly. “I'm on my period.”
He advances on me, backing me up until my spine meets the mirrored wall.
His hand slams against the wall beside my head while the other settles on my hip.
I can feel the warmth of his palm through the silk of my dress.
I gulp.
“You think I give a fuck?” His hands cup my jaw. “You think blood scares me?”
I blink in surprise, my brain refusing to process what he just said.
Of course he doesn't give a fuck about blood, I forgot who I was dealing with.
Maybe it's because of the black suit, his hair slicked back with a few unruly strands falling over his forehead.
He almost looks normal—if you ignore the scar splitting his lip, the bruises on his eyebrow and jaw, and the dried blood coating his knuckles and forearms.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open, I bolt out, heading straight for the ballroom entrance.
Behind me, I hear him chuckle darkly before following.
The guard stationed outside the ballroom gives us a slow once-over.
“What are you looking at?” Evren barks, subtly stepping in front of me.
I roll my eyes and move around him.
The guard doesn't even react to Evren, pulls out a scanner and points it at my face.
A slow red hologram scans my face.
The scanner beeps.
“Miss Laordie, please proceed.” The guard says, stepping aside and gesturing toward the doors.
I take a slow breath and glance at Evren, who's still glaring at the guard like he's deciding whether to tear his throat out.
“Evren.” I call.
His head snaps toward me, and he closes the distance without another word.
Inside... It's exactly what I hate.
Not an ounce of authenticity.
Soaring ceilings, polished marble floors, cascading crystal chandeliers, and suspended holographic installations create an atmosphere of immaculate, cold luxury.
An AI voice echoes through the ballroom, announcing my arrival to everyone.
“Miss Riven Laordie, heiress to the Laordie Empire and her plus one.”
I wince.
I hate this, I hate being announced.
“Smile, troublemaker,” Evren says. “You're here with your plus one.” His voice drips with mockery, though the annoyance beneath it is unmistakable.
“At least no one knows who you are.”
“Better for them, don't you think?”
“Yes.” I scan the crowd, searching for my parents. “Though... don't kill anyone tonight.”
“No promises.” He chuckles.
His hand finds me again, but instead of resting on the small of my back, it slides slowly up my spine before settling beneath my hair at the nape of my neck.
Clearly a claim.
A fucking possessive gesture.
But this isn't the moment to tell him to fuck off even if I like the warmth of his hand.
I shake my head at the thought.
No.
I spot my parents standing beside the Governor.
Game on.
I start walking, Evren following close behind, his hand never leaving the back of my neck.
“Mother. Father. Governor,” I greet.
“Miss Laordie!” the Governor says warmly. “We were just talking about you.”
My mother and father, however, are frozen in sheer outrage at the sight of Evren after he told them he'd skin them alive and turn their faces into masks.
“Really?” I ask.
“Yes.” The Governor takes a champagne flute from a passing server's tray and offers it to me.
Without breaking eye contact with my father, Evren reaches over and takes it instead.
“Riven, dear,” my mother begins, “perhaps you should tell your friend to greet your father and the Governor. His behavior is rather inappropriate.”
I look at Evren, then at my mother and finally, at my father.
My father is visibly seething, struggling to keep his composure for the sake of appearances, while Evren casually sips the champagne with a smug grin.
Evren looms over my father by at least four inches.
It's the first time I've ever seen my father forced to look up at someone.
The sight almost makes me smile. I relax, just a little.
“He'll say hello when he feels like it, Mother.” I grab a flute “Evren is a grown ass man, he can make his decision alone, he doesn’t need Celine Laordie to tell him how to behave.”
The Governor clears his throat and leaves.
“Exactly,” Evren finally says. “Nice to meet you, Celine.”
I choke on my champagne, coughing so hard it nearly comes out of my nose.
Evren being polite?
That's a fucking miracle.
“Careful, baby girl.” Evren leans closer. “Wouldn't want you to die right here. That'd be a waste.”
His grip on the back of my neck tightens for a brief moment before easing again.
“How dare you bring that specimen here?” My father finally finds his words, his voice straining with rage. “We told you not to.”
“Well...” I shrug before sliding my free hand across Evren's stomach. “That specimen is exactly what I need.”
I feel Evren's abdomen tense beneath my hand.
I look up at him and smile.
A real smile.
For once, I genuinely feel good, he's here with me, being a complete jerk, refusing to be anyone but himself.
And it's driving my parents insane.
A damn victory.
And if I'm being honest...
He looks unbelievably sexy dressed like this.
“Anyway, if you’ll excuse us—”
Suddenly, three women approach.
My parents instantly plaster on their usual fake smiles and turn their attention to them.
One of the women glances at Evren for barely a second before dismissing him completely.
Even I have never managed to look that indifferent.
She walks straight to me.
“Dear!” She pulls me into a hug before stepping back to admire me. “That dress is an absolute masterpiece. Only you could wear something like that and make it look like a jewel.”
“I... uh...” I stammer, completely caught off guard.
I don't know this woman, but I feel Evren's grip on the back of my neck tighten just shy of pain.
She has gray hair, green eyes, and looks to be around fifty, dressed in a deep emerald gown.
“Thank you, really, but we have to—”
She waves me off before taking my hand off Evren's stomach. Before I can protest, she rubs the back of it affectionately.
“Your parents and I have been discussing a partnership,” she says with a warm smile. “An arranged marriage with my son. He's tall, handsome, and comes from a respectable family. His father is the Governor's right-hand man.”
My jaw drops.
What did she just say? An arranged marriage? What the actual fuck?
Absolutely not.
“The hell she will,” Evren snaps. “She isn't marrying your son, who probably looks like a fucking overcooked chicken. Go find another bride for him.”
He takes a step closer.
“Because she's fucking taken.”
The woman's expression shifts from shock to utter disbelief.
Mine probably isn't much better. I'm still trying to process what she said... And what he just did.
Before I can say anything, he guides me away by the back of my neck.
My heartbeat refuses to slow.
The words echo louder than the music ever could—because she's fucking taken.
I don't even know what that means, especially coming from him.
Why does my chest hurt?
It's like I want to kick my feet and giggle like a teenager.
My father takes a step forward, no doubt intending to stop him, but my mother catches his arm.
Evren shoulders a side door open and keeps walking—striding—without looking back.
His grip hurts but for once, I don't complain, don't insult him nor hit him.
He just saved me from a potential wedding I don’t want.
We walk through corridor after corridor, turning so many times I lose all sense of direction before he finally stops.
He's probably being guided by Ren.
He releases me abruptly and drops into a crouch, reaches inside his jacket, he pulls out a device—the device.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.
I'd forgotten about it.
For a moment, I wasn't here on a mission, I was just a woman at a ball, being forced into an arranged marriage.
He doesn't even look at me.
He shoves it into a nearby outlet with unnecessary force, nearly ripping the socket out of the wall.
“Fucking rich people...” he mutters.
Once the device is plugged in, he stands and curls his hands into fists.
“Ren says it'll kick in within a minute.” He pauses before finally looking at me. “Why the fuck didn't you say anything?”
“What?”