Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
The grand gala room of Harrington Heights is everything I expected—a sea of elegance with decadent chandeliers, glittering dresses, and crisp suits.
Everyone’s faces are hidden by masks, which lends an extra layer of mystery to the evening.
A string quartet performs in a discreet corner, their music blending with the quiet hum of conversation and the occasional clink of champagne flutes.
I catch a whiff of something sweet and tempting from the trays of finger food the servers are carrying, but I ignore it, glancing around the room instead.
I may look calm, but nerves are simmering beneath my skin, making me more agitated than I’d like, and a little nauseous.
I’m standing with Koen, Levi, Sylus, and Ezra, all of them polished and masked, looking every bit as impressive as the other high-society types around us.
Koen and Levi wear their confidence like their suits—comfortable and effortless.
Levi’s suit, glittering under the lights, is striking, making me miss my usual glitter and shine.
I run a hand down the skirt of my dress, feeling the soft fabric. Tonight, I have to settle for black and feathers, and I find myself again anchoring myself to the bracelet Koen gave me as I scan the crowd, searching for Nicholas.
Koen notices, of course. “Nervous?”
I glance up at him, hesitating for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”
Levi’s gaze snaps to me, his usual playful expression shifting to something more serious, almost protective.
Before Koen can say anything else, Levi leans closer, his breath warm against my ear.
“You know, there’s a saying I tell myself before every show,” he whispers.
“A bird doesn’t land on a branch because it trusts the branch won’t break.
” His fingers reach out, brushing against one of the feathers on my dress, twirling it lightly between his fingers.
He studies it for a moment, then lets it fall back into place as his eyes meet mine, almost eerie through the mask.
“It lands because it trusts its own ability to fly away if it needs to.”
He straightens, and his smile returns, a touch of playfulness slipping back in as he taps my nose.
“Trust that if this all comes crashing down, you’ll be able to fly, Little Bird.
” I swallow against the unexpected emotion clogging my throat, even as his words settle a good bit of my nerves.
Then, almost as an afterthought, he adds, “You look stunning tonight if that helps.”
I let out a small laugh, my gaze drifting over his glittery suit. “You look incredible too.”
Just as I’m about to turn back to Koen and ask if he’s seen Nicholas anywhere, I feel a presence behind me, a subtle shift in the air, a hint of warmth at my back. Then a familiar voice murmurs, “Gentlemen.”
I turn to find Nicholas standing close, towering over me.
My eyes trail up him slowly, taking in the black suit that fits him perfectly.
When I make it to his face, his forest-green eyes seem even more striking than usual, perfectly framed by his simple, elegant mask.
He looks dangerously handsome in a way that steals my breath.
“Rosie,” he greets softly. I can feel the twins’ eyes burning into the side of my head, but I keep my attention on Nicholas. A smile blooms on my lips when he stretches his hand out to me. “May I have this dance?”
“I’d love that.” I place my hand in his, and we turn toward the dance floor. As we move farther away from the others, I glance up at him. “That took balls.”
Nicholas chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that makes my stomach flutter. “You have no idea who and what I would face for you.”
His words sink into me, wrapping around my heart, and a shiver runs through me. Not from fear but something else. Something that scares me more than danger ever could.
I push the feeling away and try to lighten the mood. “My knight in shining Armani, huh?”
Nicholas’s lips curve into an amused smile. “If you say so.”
We’re almost to the dance floor when Veronica steps into our path.
She smiles, all polished grace and poise, her mask adding an air of elegance to her otherwise sharp features.
“Enjoying the evening, son?” she asks while her eyes scan us both with interest. “Have you already spoken with the Blythe family?”
“I will.” Nicholas’s grip on my hand tightens slightly, but he offers her a polite smile. “Mother, may I introduce you to Rosie Lane.”
Veronica’s gaze shifts to me, her expression caught between intrigue and surprise. “Lane?” she echoes, a trace of something else flickering in her eyes.
“It’s Evans, actually,” I clarify. I’m not sure if it’s smart to give her my real last name, but pretending to be another Lane in name, too, could easily unravel if she looked into it. This feels like the safest lie. “But the Lane brothers are my cousins.”
Veronica’s eyes narrow, her smile faltering for a moment before she recovers, offering me a gracious nod. “I haven’t heard of you,” she notes, her tone carefully polite, though I catch the underlying skepticism.
I hold her gaze, offering her a polite smile. “Well, it’s all new for me too.”
Veronica’s lips twitch upward, and she gives me a more genuine smile this time, though there’s still something calculated in her eyes. “You’re beautiful,” she comments almost approvingly as if she’s inspecting a piece of fine jewelry.
“Thank you. I can only return the compliment, Ms. Harrington.”
And she truly is beautiful. Her eyes are the same forest green color as Nicholas’s and framed by thick lashes and her dark brown hair, which falls in waves.
“Please, call me Veronica.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Veronica.” Her first name feels strange on my tongue, almost too familiar. Veronica’s eyes sweep over me again, and I resist the urge to fidget.
Finally, she turns to Nicholas, her gaze softening a touch. “Make sure this beautiful young lady enjoys our gala, Nicholas.”
Nicholas inclines his head, his hand tightening around mine once more. “I’ll do my best, Mother.”
Veronica gives him a brief nod, turning away, her figure disappearing into the crowd with the kind of grace that only comes from a lifetime of this charade.
I exhale, the tension in my chest easing as she moves away.
“You handled her perfectly,” he murmurs, low and full of admiration.
“I would face a lot for you, too, you know,” I answer quietly and without thought, glancing up at him. His eyes meet mine, and his answering smile is small but full of warmth.
Nicholas’s hand slips to the small of my back as we step onto the dance floor, his fingers warm through the fabric of my dress.
As he takes my hand and holds it up beside us, his touch is gentle, guiding me with a confidence that soothes my nerves enough to allow me to fall right into place with him.
Every step flows as if I’ve known this rhythm my entire life, as if he and I were designed to fit together in this exact way.
The violins’ notes twirl around us, filling the space between each breath.
“I’ve danced with countless women at these things.” His voice is a velvet murmur just above my ear, so rich that goose bumps erupt on my neck. “But it’s never felt this… effortless.”
I glance up at him, smiling. “Countless women, huh?” My tone is light, teasing, though part of me can’t deny the curiosity swirling inside or the urge to push him and see if his feelings match mine.
He cringes. “That’s not what I meant.” His fingers shift on my back as he searches for words. “It’s… well, my mother insists I dance with certain people. Usually, I just go through the motions.”
I smile a genuine one that he returns with a look that’s almost shy.
“I enjoy dancing,” I admit, letting my gaze wander over the grandeur of the ballroom.
“And this… it’s the most beautiful setting I’ve ever danced in.
And you’re definitely the best partner I’ve ever had.
” I hold back the fact that he’s the only person I’ve ever danced with like this.
His gaze softens, and he pulls me a touch closer as if he doesn’t want to let go. “Sounds like you’re the perfect plus-one for every gala coming.”
“Oh?” I meet his gaze with a smile. “You want to repeat this?”
“For as long as you’ll let me.”
The way he says it sends a flutter through my chest I try my best to ignore. “Your mother wouldn’t be happy about you spending all your time with me.”
He lets out a sigh, a shadow passing over his face. “My mother, unfortunately, has a lot of say in my life,” he admits, his fingers pressing against the small of my back as he leads me into a slow turn. “But it’s been a long while since she managed to tell me who to want.”
His fingers slip up to my cheek, grazing the edge of my jaw. The warmth of his hand, the closeness, leaves my pulse racing.
Fuck. I can’t feel this.
Not for him.
Not for any of them.
“What do you mean?” I ask, searching his eyes.
“This isn’t the place to tell the story.” He hesitates, a vulnerability there I haven’t seen before. “But… let’s just say she once sent someone to lure me in, and I fell for it.”
His words land like a sucker punch. I’m standing here, wrapped in his arms, letting myself sink into the warmth and ease of his touch, and all the while… I’m exactly what he’s talking about.
I swallow thickly as the guilt lashes at me. “That sounds horrible.”
I am horrible.
I shouldn’t care. That was the plan, wasn’t it? Get close to Nicholas. Win his trust. To play my part. I’d promised myself that, but my resolve slips further with every interaction with him.
Because I do care about him.
“I learned my lesson.” He shrugs, his gaze dropping to my lips, then meeting my eyes again with a grin. “She hasn’t sent you, has she?”
His expression is open, vulnerable, and it’s as though I’ve crossed a line I never meant to. I see him for who he is—a person trapped in a life he never chose, aching for something real.