Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
GORAN
Kaylani refused the car Julian had sent.
Now we were in Dimitri’s limo, and I hated every inch of it. I wished we had taken Nathaniel’s. This one smelled like greed.
That deep yearning for power, influence, and accumulated wealth.
The kind of power that expected obedience before the command was ever spoken.
The kind of influence that went beyond a family or even a region, touching everyone around the globe.
The kind of wealth that could build or destroy in an instant.
The kind of wealth that clearly stated any crime could be committed with enough money backing you.
Kaylani sat beside me, hands folded neatly in her lap, and I broke my own rules by reaching for one of them. She looked up at me, and I saw the trepidation in her eyes. She was always honest with me. Even if outside this car, she would harden into steel, and no one would ever see her fears.
“It’s going to be okay,” I promised.
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Goran. This guy is different.”
I knew all too well what she meant.
“I agree, but I’m here, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
“That’s what worries me most.” She squeezed my hand and took a steadying breath.
“I wish I could kiss you,” I whispered.
“Tonight, after the ballet, stay with me. I know a way you can sneak in.” She ran her finger over the ring on my right hand. “Please, Goran.”
“You know I can’t resist you. But I’m meeting Nathaniel at the club, remember?”
Her eyes dropped.
“I’ll text him and see if we can push it to tomorrow.”
Her entire face lit up, and my heart danced in my chest.
“I should have just told my father to shove it and stood Julian up. I don’t want to be here,” Kaylani said, as the car slowed and the theater came into view.
It was lit like a jewel cut for those who believed beauty existed for their consumption.
Cameras waited to capture the famous before they walked inside.
A way for those who wished to live in this world to do so vicariously.
Security stood in neat lines. Velvet ropes divided the powerful from the hopeful.
A performance before the performance.
“The fight is coming to us. There is no point in rushing it along.”
I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before releasing her hand, composing my face, and opening the door. Stepping out, I buttoned my suit jacket while scanning the crowd. Then turned and held out my hand to help Kaylani to stand.
Cameras flashed, and heads turned in her direction.
Kaylani had not worn red as Julian had demanded. She chose navy instead.
Another deliberate choice. Not quite a refusal, but a signal of autonomy. Control without spectacle. She wasn’t one to fade into the sea of black and red formal wear.
Kaylani dominated the room.
I had never seen her look more stunning. The rich fabric shimmered when she walked. It was moulded to every curve and had a slit up one side that bordered on indecent.
Her grip on my hand was steady. No tremor. No fear.
Whispers rippled through the crowd. Mikhailov. Princess.
Julian waited near the entrance, irritation evident on his face. Whether it was because I was here or because Kaylani had chosen a color he didn’t approve of, I wasn’t sure. But I suspected it was both.
His eyes flicked to me first and paused.
Good. Julian knew I was a threat to whatever he had planned.
Then he looked at Kaylani.
His smile widened, far too practiced, as he walked out to greet us. I didn’t release Kaylani’s hand, not yet. Instead, I enjoyed the look on his face while I envisioned knocking his teeth right out of his head.
Just as he had done at lunch, Julian leaned in and air-kissed both her cheeks, careful not to overstep.
“Ms. Mikhailov, you look extraordinary. Not the color I expected, but no less radiant.”
She inclined her head. “Yes, well, I’m not fond of being told what I should wear. And this dress makes a certain statement. Don’t you think?”
Julian offered his arm. “Yes, it certainly does.”
Then he turned his attention to me. “I’m sorry, but there were no accommodations made for you. I didn’t expect you to join us.”
“Goran is my guard. He will attend,” Kaylani said without hesitation.
“Unfortunately, there simply isn’t space,” Julian tried again.
The more he insisted that I not be here, the more determined I became to stay.
Stepping closer to him, I lowered my voice. “If I don’t accompany Ms. Mikhailov inside, she does not attend.”
I held his gaze, letting him see the depths that I would go to keep her safe.
His jaw tightened. “Is that so?”
“These are my orders.” I let the words hang between us before continuing with the ace up my sleeve. “If you want confirmation, you’re welcome to call Mr. Mikhailov.”
For a fraction of a second, the mask cracked. Just enough for me to know I had won.
Julian studied me. Pride weighed against consequence. Men like him despised being challenged by men they considered beneath them.
Then he smiled. “Of course. I wouldn’t want a misunderstanding. Shall we?”
Only when Julian's eyes dropped to my hand did I relinquish Kaylani and move into my usual guard position.
I ground my teeth, muttering every swear word I knew in all four languages I knew how to speak under my breath.
Kaylani took his arm, but there was nothing relaxed or intimate about the touch.
I followed close enough to kill for her. Far enough to remind everyone I was a soldier born to walk a step behind and be dismissed as I became invisible.
Inside, the lobby glittered with diamonds and gold. Old bloodlines paraded new heirs. Famous movie stars searched for a night of relaxation. But it was the eyes tracking Kaylani as if she were currency changing hands that drew my attention.
As usual, she handled it all with ease.
“Kaylani, how wonderful to see you again,” an older woman said.
Mrs. VanCamp. I had only seen her once before when Nathaniel met with her husband.
“This is my husband, Harold,” she said, introducing the man beside her. “I can’t remember if the two of you have met.”
“No, we haven’t, and it’s a pleasure to see both of you this evening.”
Kaylani shook Harold’s hand.
“Is this your fiancé? Are the rumors true?” Mrs. VanCamp looked Julian up and down as he plastered on his good boy smile.
“No, Julian is not my fiancé,” Kaylani said.
“Not yet,” Julian corrected. “But, I’m aiming to steal her heart.” He gave a wicked smile and slid his hand to her lower back.
Kaylani bristled. It was subtle, but I picked up on it and my hand balled into a fist. My teeth grinding as everything in me screamed to rip him away from her. This was why you never got involved with those you worked for. The line didn’t get blurry, it got messy.
Mrs. VanCamp laughed. “Well, you have to admire confidence in a man. This one seems to be a keeper. Enjoy the show.”
She dragged her husband away. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else.
“I assume this means you have not accepted my proposal,” Julian said once the couple was out of earshot.
“No, I have not. Is that a problem?”
Julian smirked. “Not at all.”
Another couple approached, then another, and another.
Each time Kaylani introduced Julian as a date, nothing more and nothing less. I told myself it was all strategy. She was playing the board, not the man. But it didn’t stop it from feeling like a hand closing around my heart, viciously twisting it.
Julian settled into the role like a chameleon shifting its colors to match its surroundings.
He played his role perfectly. His hand remained on her back.
Possession without permission. Claiming without declaration.
Never stepping so far out of line that I had cause to shoot him in the head.
At least cause other than my personal reasons.
The lights flashed, and everyone moved toward their seats. Julian’s guards approached and I stayed behind Kaylani, Julian, and the two men. We walked down the hall to the first level of box seats. Fancy. I expected nothing less.
When we reached the heavy drapes separating the box from the corridor, Julian stopped.
His gaze cut to me, irritation no longer hidden.
“I don’t believe your presence is necessary inside the box. As you can see, there are only two seats and no magical escape,” he said sarcastically. “Ms. Mikhailov will be quite safe.”
Kaylani turned her head slightly. She didn’t speak, but I understood.
I stepped closer to Julian and lowered my voice so only he could hear. “I will remain right here outside the curtain. Just in case.”
His jaw twitched. I wished he would hit me, but I knew he had more control than that.
“Very well. Suit yourself.”
Julian’s guards stood on either side of the arched entrance, watching me like they hoped I would be the one to make a mistake. Wasn’t going to happen.
Across the narrow corridor, I kept my eyes on them and the curtain. Some rules you followed without question. You never allowed your opponent to crowd you, and you never gave them your back.
Julian noticed where I stood as he held Kaylani’s chair while she sat. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he pulled the cord on the curtain, and the heavy material fell into place between us.
The lights dimmed, and the music rose. I stood in the shadows, every nerve heightened, watching men who wanted me dead as much as I did them.
As the orchestra swelled, I settled into my position, hand poised to near my gun, because sooner or later Julian was going to learn that Kaylani Mikhailov refused to kneel.
I understood this man enough to know he would try to break her. And if he even thought about it, I would break him.
Consequences be damned.