Chapter 6
The Prey
A fter literally running away from Valentine, I fled into the black car parked curbside, waiting for me. Feeling all sorts of confused and messed up, I asked the driver to take me to Maison de Lys, my favorite shop in all of New York. Shallow as it might be, my clothes are my armor against the world, and I needed new armor. Retail therapy is a cliché for a reason.
As soon as I walked inside, the sales assistants started swarming me. Some knew me from previous visits, others could probably sense the black Amex card with no limit in my purse. But the need to browse had me waving them all off, choosing to look around myself.
Now, I stand in front of the mirror in the shop, smoothing out the fabric of my jacket. The sleek black leather catches the light, hugging my waist just right, giving me an edge I don’t usually feel. Beneath it, my cream-colored low-cut shirt softens the look, and my skinny high-waisted black jeans pull everything together, elongating my legs in the reflection.
The pointed-toe boots give me a few extra inches, their muted burgundy leather standing out just enough to make the outfit pop without trying too hard.
Thi s outfit is unlike anything else I own, but when I saw it on the mannequin, I felt it call out to me like a creature of myth. It’s the first pair of jeans I own, and the only reason I dare wear them in public is because I’m meeting Nick.
Sure, it helps that Michael is out of town, but that’s no guarantee he won’t find out. He always finds out—especially the things I wish he wouldn’t. However, since I’m meeting the head of the Knight Mafia, who happens to be my oldest brother, I feel relatively safe.
I lean toward the mirror, touching up my lipstick. Dark berry, bold but not too loud. It suits my mood. My green eyes catch the light, glinting as I swipe the brush through my waist-long raven-black hair. It’s smooth and glossy today, falling straight down my back.
Taking a moment, I assess my reflection. I look composed, confident even. But there’s always that tightness in my chest, the knot that never fully loosens. I step back, one last glance in the mirror. I look sharp. Like someone who knows what they’re doing. Even if, deep down, I feel anything but.
Back in the car, I feel myself reassembled—polished, poised, powerful. We glide through the city toward the meeting with Nick and Carolina.
The sleek, modern building looms ahead, its glass facade reflecting a crisp blue sky, an oasis of wealth amidst the gray skyscrapers. Known for hosting the elite, it stands imperious and exclusive, the very embodiment of affluence and influence.
Nick is waiting with Carolina at his side, a united front in this cavernous lobby that speaks of money whispered behind closed doors. Marble pillars reach for the heavens, and the low murmur of conversation bounces off the walls, laden with deals and secrets.
“Ruby,” my brother greets me, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. There’s an edge to it, a reminder that he is the head of our family now. His eyes scan my attire, approval flitting across his face before he schools his expression back to neutrality.
“Nick,” I nod, my voice steady despite the storm of thoughts raging within me. Carolina watches from the sidelines, her gaze sharp, calculating. Our mutual animosity simmers beneath the surface like a dorman t volcano.
“How are you doing?” he asks, his eyes scanning my face in that way he always does. “You’re looking… good.” It’s almost comical how surprised he sounds at that assessment.
I nod. “I’m fine.” Though I should congratulate them both on the wedding, maybe even mention I was there, I don’t. I just follow them inside, coming to a stop in front of a double-door made of frosted glass.
Why am I acting like this? It’s my brother. Sure, we’re not close enough for me to confide in him, but I should be able to tell him about my life, right? I mean, he’d want to know. Or maybe he wouldn’t… he has Carolina now, and by the looks he gives her, she’s all he needs.
Only the lowest of the low get jealous when their brother finds true love, so I guess that’s me. I’m not jealous because I want his attention, but because… I don’t even know why. Maybe that’s not even what I’m feeling.
Christ, I’m so messed up in the head that I don’t even know my own feelings anymore. In truth, I don’t think I’ve known them for a long time. For most of my life, I’ve coasted through life, acted how I was supposed to, said what was expected, and asked for nothing. I guess the result is that now I barely know what it means to want anything.
While I’ve usually managed to act at least somewhat confident, even bratty at times, around my brothers, I can’t even do that anymore. What happened to Jack shook me more than I care to admit, and, well, what’s the point?
“I hear you’ve enrolled at Holloway University,” Nick says, his voice pulling me from my somber thoughts. “What’s that like?”
For some unknown reason, I clench my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket. “It’s fine,” I reply tersely, not inviting more questions.
“What are you studying?” Carolina asks.
I tuck a strand of black hair behind my ear. “Umm… criminology,” I offer, the word tasting like a secret on my tongue. “It’s fascinating.”
“Then you’re in good hands,” he replies, and I catch the glint of genuine interest in his eyes. “Maybe we can use you in the family business once you graduate.”
My eyebrows furrow. “So did you…” Trailing off, I catch hi s gaze. “… did you ask Michael to enroll me for that purpose?”
He looks as confused as I feel. “Nah, that wasn’t me. I thought this was something you wanted.” Just as his eyes darken, Carolina instinctively takes his hand, squeezing it like she’s trying to prevent the outburst I know is building. “Did he force you to enroll?”
“Of course not,” I reply flippantly, already knowing who he’s referring to. “Michael merely suggested it, and I agreed.”
I’m the worst actress in the world, and I know I need to up my game. Nick narrows his eyes, clearly not believing me. I know he thinks I’m protecting Michael, but I’m really not. If it wasn’t for the iron-clad contract Dad forced me to sign, I might have killed my husband a long time ago. Or at the very least, run away.
“That’s Professor Grant’s class, isn’t it?” Carolina asks.
“It is,” Nick confirms.
“You know him?” The question flies from me before I can stop myself.
She smiles, and for once, when looking at me, it isn’t strained. “It would be more accurate to say I know of him. I met him at a Christmas party and again a few days before our wedding when Nick mentioned an idea to me.”
“What idea?” I ask, not sure I like the fact that she’s spoken with Valentine.
“You’ll see,” she sing-songs.
I want to ask more questions, but just as I open my mouth to do so, the doors behind us part, and Marco, my brother’s right-hand man, strides out. “All clear,” he says curtly.
Carolina thanks him profusely, her tone warm, very different from how she addresses me. I don’t hold it against her. I’m the one who erected the wall between us when I threatened her sister.
It would probably help if I told her I never had any intentions of harming Willow, but that’s yet another thing I’ve kept to myself. I don’t even know why I don’t say it. Maybe it’s because I like knowing a part of her fears me, or maybe it’s simply because it doesn’t matter.
I’m not someone people should get involved with. The last person I opened up to, Willow, died. It wasn’t my fault, yet I keep feeling like it is. Li ke the curse that clings to our family snuffed out her bright light simply for being near me.
Walking inside, we take our seats; Nick and Carolina at the end of the table, me on his right side. Within minutes, more people file in. All of them men, and each one dressed in sharp, expensive suits.
I’m content with looking down at the table while they greet Nick and Carolina, addressing them like they’re royalty. Which I suppose they kind of are.
Just as Marco is about to close the doors, I hear a familiar voice, “Sorry I’m late,” and my head snaps in that direction.
An inaudible gasp falls from my lips as Valentine walks in, inclining his head in the direction of my brother and his wife. “I had a few things to take care of.”
Nick just nods, and Carolina makes a small humming sound as she greets my professor. My eyes narrow as I notice the blinding smile he’s giving her. As I look closer, I relax. The smile might be wide, but it isn’t real—it doesn’t even reach his eyes.
“Thank you for joining us, Valentine,” she says. “I was hoping you’d be able to—”
I’m not proud of the coughing fit I fake as Valentine sits down next to me. “Do you need some water?” he asks in a wry tone. It’s as though he knows I’m faking it, a desperate means to get his attention away from Carolina.
What I’m doing makes no sense. She’s happily married to my brother, yet… I don’t want her and Valentine conversing. As I accept the glass of water he hands me, I tell myself it’s because it’s awkward for me. But I’m not sure that’s the truth.
“Right, well, let’s get going,” Nick rumbles.
The meeting commences, and while he quickly explains that we’re here to find out what to do with Carolina’s old neighborhood that my brother burned down, I can barely focus on his words. My body is all too aware of the man next to me, the man whose arm is almost brushing mine. Almost.
I’m still not sure why I’m here, but that’s the story of my life. If I’m called upon, I show up. I never really question it, since that’s the way it’s always been. Though, since Valentine is here, I suppose I’m glad I am too. Even if I do feel slightly mortified at the way I reacted to dropping his book.
Taking a deep breath, I let my fingers trace the grain of the table, the texture grounding me as I focus on the voices rising and falling around me. They debate, argue, vying for dominance in a world where compassion is often drowned out by greed.
“A mall,” one suggests, only to be shot down by another who proposes luxury condos instead.
The air crackles with tension, charged like a storm about to break as the men in crisp suits and silk ties argue over cold numbers and colder legacies, their voices rising, clashing. I lean back in my chair, arms folded, watching the power plays unfold before me.
“I have a suggestion,” Carolina says. “We have an opportunity here—to build something more than just another sterile complex.”
At her words, everyone speaks at the same time. They’re so busy focusing on ways to turn the area into a money-machine that they don’t notice the thunderous expression on my brother’s face.
“Enough,” Nick’s booming voice cuts through the chatter. A hush descends, and everyone’s attention snaps to him. “We’re not here to strip-mine memories for cash.” He glances at Carolina, and something passes between them—an unspoken promise.
When he’s like this, I don’t just respect him, I admire him. Yes, he’s my brother, and I’ve always looked up to him. But it’s more than that.
“Continue, Kitten,” he says, his voice softening as he nods at her.
“We could make it into homes and facilities for the disabled,” she proposes, her gaze locked on mine, and when she says the next part, I realize she’s extending an olive branch. “In memory of my sister, Willow.”
My heart skips. Willow—sweet, brave Willow, whose laughter could brighten the darkest corners of our world. Memories of her warm smile flood my senses, filling the void left by her absence. Carolina’s words resonate with truth, and I gravitate toward the light of her conviction.
A rare warmth blooms in my chest as I lock eyes with my sister-in-law across the conference table. Her suggestion to honor Willow tugs at someth ing deep within me, and for an instant, our mutual animosity dissolves into a shared vision. Our smiles are fleeting, almost secretive, acknowledging this unexpected common ground.
“I…” My voice falters, then finds its strength. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Carolina.” My eyes glisten, not with tears of sadness, but with tears of fierce joy. “Willow would have loved this.”
Right now, I can’t believe I ever thought Carolina didn’t care about her sister. How wrong I was. When Willow died, I remember wondering if my sister-in-law would lose her humanity like most people do in our world, but clearly she hasn’t.
Across the table, nods begin, slow at first, then gaining momentum as the prospect of compassion edges out greed. I can almost see it—the sun-drenched courtyards, the sound of laughter where silence once reigned.
“It’ll be like bringing life back from the ashes,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. I lean back, letting the soft leather of the chair cradle me.
As the board members murmur among themselves, I let myself hope. This project could be the legacy that finally heals, that brings life back to the desolate streets, that honors a soul taken too soon.
“What a brilliant idea,” Valentine says. “Are you two going to spearhead this thing?” The way he poses the question paired with the looks he gives both me and Carolina, it’s almost like he’s trying to make it so.
“I don’t know,” Carolina replies, eyeing me as though she’s not sure I’d want to.
“I’d love to be part of it,” I quickly confirm, taking the opening Valentine has given me.
Nick calls for a vote that’s really more of a performance than anything else. No one is going to disagree with the head of the Knight family, especially not on something as trivial as this. But by doing things by the book, they get to call it unanimous and pat themselves on the back for a job well done.
Once the vote is over, my brother looks at Valentine. “We were hoping for your involvement as well, Valentine. Given your e xtensive knowledge about donations and charity within Holloway University, I’m sure my sister and wife would love your input.”
Even though I feel Valentine’s gaze burning into me, I don’t dare look in his direction. Instead, I keep my gaze pinned on my brother, nodding slowly as though I’m pondering this. I’m not, by the way. Inside, I’m cheering for the opportunity.
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “Some help might be good.”
“What do you say, Professor Grant?” Carolina prompts. “Are you able to spare some hours to help us out?”
He clears his throat. “I’m sure you can persuade me,” he says in a thoughtful tone. “Luckily, I have Ruby at Holloway University with me, so maybe we can do some brainstorming.”
Nick is quick to voice his approval, and that’s all I need to know he’ll make this a demand to Michael, which means my husband isn’t going to have much say.
“Right, now that we have that taken care of, let’s move on,” he says, glancing at me before he speaks again. “You don’t need to be here for the next part, Ruby. But if you’d like to have dinner with us afterward, you can wait outside.”
To the untrained ear, it might sound like he’s dismissing me, and I guess he is. I just don’t mind it. In fact, I’m glad for the excuse to leave and have some time for myself. Plus, if someone reports back to Michael, it’s official that I was both asked to leave but also to stick around.
“Of course.” I agree as I stand. My heels click against the marble floor, a rhythmic reminder of the power vested in my family name.
Marco and a few others from Nick’s security team wait outside, and I give them a small smile. “I’m going to get some fresh air. I’ll be right outside,” I say as I walk by them.
Before I make it to the door, I feel the presence of someone on my heels. When I spin around, Valentine is there. “I wasn’t needed for the next part either,” he says, answering a question I didn’t get to voice.
Together, we step out into the brisk New York evening, where the city’s pulse is almost tangible under my skin. The air is sharp, carrying whispers of things hidden in shadows.
I f ully expect him to walk away, but to my surprise, he comes to a stop when I do. Discreetly, I eye him out of my peripheral vision, wondering why he’s still here, and what he was doing in that meeting to begin with.
“So this is what you do out of class, Ruby?” he asks suddenly, and even my name sounds different when it rolls off his tongue. His gaze holds me captive, and despite myself, I’m drawn closer to the edge of his orbit.
“That’s me. After hours, I’m a regular do-gooder, Professor Grant,” I quip. Making jokes like this is not like me at all, neither is the way I’m grinning up at him.
“Call me Valentine when we’re not within university walls,” he instructs, his voice low.
“Alright… Valentine.” I test his name, tasting the forbidden fruit of familiarity. Even though I think of him as Valentine, and have whispered his name to myself, it’s different to say it out loud.
He eyes me, head tilted slightly, an unreadable expression painting his features. “You’ve changed clothes since I last saw you.”
The way he notices unsettles me; it’s as if he catalogs every detail, storing it away in the vault of his mind. For a minute or two, I stand completely still, watching him as he unashamedly watches me. His eyes trace over every inch of my body, and when they linger on my chest, I arch my back subtly, pushing my breasts forward, a silent invitation for his eyes to wander.
And they do. A flicker of hunger crosses his face, so fleeting it might be imagined. But then he licks his lips, and the air between us thickens with unspoken words.
“Do you like it?” I ask, a fire igniting within me.
“Like it?” he asks, his eyes snapping up to mine. “Very much.” His tone is velvet, dangerous. He steps closer, invading my space with a quiet assertion that sends shivers down my spine.
I stare at his eyes, realizing something I hadn’t noticed before. They aren’t just dark brown, bordering on black, like I thought. There’s something else—a ring around his left eye, barely visible unless you’re really looking. Amber, glowing faintly.
It catches the light, twinkling in a way that almost feels deliberate. I can’t look away now that I’ve unlocked something about him, something small but important. And I like it. It’s mesmerizing, that tiny ring of color, adding depth to the darkness.
Without realizing it, I’m moving closer. I don’t stop until I’m so close his breath ghosts across my face, making chills erupt all over my body. What the hell am I doing? A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. It’s a predator’s grin, promising danger and delight in equal measure.
“Sorry,” I murmur, immediately taking a step back.
I don’t know what’s happening to me. With every movement I make in Valentine’s presence, it seems my body and mind are at odds. Both pull me to react a certain way, and as a result, I end up doing stupid things like invading his personal space.
He frowns slightly. “No apologies necessary, Ruby. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
No, I guess he’s right. Michael basically told me to screw my professor as a thank you for letting me into his classroom. So it’s not like I have to worry about something as inconsequential as nearness.
I like being so close to Valentine that I can smell him, and maybe that’s why it feels illicit. I’ve never before enjoyed it when Michael has ordered me to screw someone.
Looking over my shoulder, I wonder if I should head back inside. When I look back, my gaze lands on his hand, and I immediately notice the small drop of red nestled under one of his nails.
“Is it yours?” While I wait for his answer, I take his hand and pull it in front of me to get a better look. “Did you hurt yourself?” My stomach churns at the thought of someone else hurting him.
He holds my gaze, an unreadable expression on his face. There’s something like amusement—or is it curiosity?—flickering in those unnerving dark brown eyes. “Would it matter if it was?” His voice is low, laced with dark honey.
“It does to me,” I whisper.
“Why?”
Shaking my head, I let go of his hand. “It just does,” I mumble.
A car horn sounds, reminding me we’re standing out in the open and that m y brother’s men are probably watching us. I immediately let go of his hand, dropping it like his skin is burning mine.
“What you signed up for in there is commendable,” Valentine says, the word rolling off his tongue like a caress. Praise from him feels like a rare gift, and warmth floods through me. I want more. “Charity is important. Is this one personal to you?”
“Why do you ask that?”
He shrugs. “It just seemed like it was personal to both you and Carolina.”
I nod slowly. “I knew her sister, even considered her a friend. Willow was… she was a good person. The best, really.”
It’s hard not to feel sadness as I think about her bright smile and sunny disposition. Despite being confined to a wheelchair, Willow didn’t see herself as a victim or the world as cruel.
My mind flicks back to the day I first met her.
I’d arrived at Ability Acres on Nick’s demand; he wanted me to scope out the place. I took that to mean spy on Willow, so I quickly greased the right hands with promises of future donations before they pointed me in the direction of Carolina’s sister.
When I entered her room, she was humming to herself while making paper hearts. At my entrance, she looked up. “Hi,” she beamed. “Can I help you with something?”
“Umm, hi. Are you Willow?”
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I guess it depends what you want with Willow,” she quipped, laughter dancing in her eyes.
As I stepped further into the small room that was completely decked out with Christmas ornaments, I couldn’t help fingering some of them. “You missed a spot,” I observed dryly while pointing at the wall.
She giggled and held up one of the hearts. “No I didn’t. I just wasn’t ready to fill it yet. Do you mind helping me?”
The look she shot me was pure bliss, like she didn’t even mind having to ask a stranger for help. I don’t know why it humbled me, but it did. And when she afterward asked if I wanted to have some hot chocolate with her, I immediately agreed.
Willow refused my help as she used the wheelchair to move around her ro om. “What’s your name?” she asked, pulling out a bag of marshmallows.
“Ruby,” I answered.
She giggled. “Sucks to be you right now, Ruby.”
“Why’s that?” I asked with a frown.
“My rule is that you get as many marshmallows as there are letters in your first name. So you can only have four.”
That was the moment I knew I wanted to be her friend. Willow wasn’t looking at my fancy clothes or working legs with envy, she schooled me. Put me in my place with something as simple and insignificant as marshmallows.
She won my respect and, well, I wanted to get to know her better. Learn more about the woman who had every reason never to smile, yet did it all the time.
I’m startled out of my thoughts as Valentine’s hand brushes mine, a touch so light it might be accidental. Or not. My skin tingles where his fingers fleetingly meet mine, sending a current up my arm. I glance down, watching our hands almost hesitantly hover.
“Valentine,” I begin, then hesitate.
Why does he affect me like this? What is it about Valentine that strips away my defenses and leaves me bare? Each encounter with him is a thread, pulling me closer into his web, and I’m not sure I want to escape.
When he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even show a hint of knowing our hands just touched, I shake my head at my own stupidity. It was obviously an accident. “I’m going to head back inside,” I say, taking first one step backward, then another.
The cold New York air bites at my exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from his nearness. I wrap my arms around myself, seeking a warmth that’s no longer there, and turn back to the sleek glass doors of the building. My reflection stares back at me, a girl who looks like she has it all together, but inside is a tumult of confusion.
I let out a shaky breath and push the door open, stepping back into the world of light and noise. The buzz of conversation washes over me, but it’s muted, distant. My mind replays our brief exchange, dissecting each word, each glance, searching for meaning in the spaces between.
“ Are you okay, Ruby?” Nick’s voice cuts through the fog in my brain.
I force a smile and nod, trying to anchor myself. “Just needed some air,” I lie smoothly, slipping back into the role I’ve been cast in before I was even born.
“We’re done now. Did you want to have dinner with us?” Carolina asks, and I’m surprised by the softness of her tone.
Looking up, I meet her blue gaze. “Yeah, sure,” I reply.
As we head back outside together, Nick quickly spots Valentine, who hasn’t left yet. “Hey, Valentine,” my brother calls out. He waits for my professor to turn around before he continues. “We’re about to go for dinner. Would you like to join us?”
Before he can answer, Carolina speaks up. “Yes, please. It would be great if you had time. I have so many questions.”
I hold my breath as I wait for Valentine to answer, and when he finally does, he looks straight at me. “I’d be honored. Where should I meet you?”