Chapter 14
ANNIE
The address Dawn gave me for the party belonged to a glass-and-steel monolith in Luminous Heights.
I pulled into the underground garage, swiping the black access card Number Three had shoved into my hand when he’d dropped me off at home earlier.
I had almost thrown it back at him out of stubbornness but thank God my practical side won out.
Street parking in this district required either a trust fund or a miracle, and I possessed neither.
I pulled into the designated spot right next to a pair of elevators. One featured a keypad, clearly a private entrance, so I headed for the standard car marked for the lobby.
As I crossed the lobby, I smoothed my hands over the skirt of my dress, suddenly hyper-aware of my own tax bracket.
The building Dawn and I lived in was nice, but not have-a-waterfall-in-the-lobby nice.
I approached the curved security desk, fully prepared to hand over my ID and explain I was here for Hunter’s party, but the guard in the tailored suit didn’t even give me the chance to open my mouth.
“Ms. Bishop. You’re expected. Please use the express elevator at the end of the hall. ”
I thanked him, wondering how the hell he’d known who I was as I walked away. I decided that a building like this probably had a really good security system and had used facial recognition on me the moment I’d stepped out of my car.
I pressed the single illuminated button in the elevator and as the car shot upward, my stomach executed a nervous flip. A small, desperate part of my brain prayed Cipher’s street clashes had run long and he was too busy breaking bones across the city to bother showing up.
Cipher’s games in the lab were infuriating.
He claimed he wanted me, but the math simply failed to add up.
I didn’t suffer from low self-esteem, but I lived in reality.
The man possessed staggering wealth and a face engineered to make women ruin their lives.
He could have anyone. His sudden fixation on me was just another manipulation tactic.
He wanted something from me, and he knew my body was the easiest way to bypass my brain.
I looked at my reflection in the elevator’s doors.
I had spent a full hour getting ready. My hair was styled in loose waves, my makeup was flawless, and I wore a dark blue cocktail dress that hit mid-thigh.
I had dressed up partially out of spite, and tonight, I was going to prove how little his twisted offer meant to me.
Dawn had mentioned Finley Adkins was going to be at the party and he’d been badgering her to set us up for months.
I didn’t actually want Finley, but I wanted his straightforward, uncomplicated attention.
I wanted a man whose goals were transparent, even if those goals began and ended with getting me into his bed.
I was going to show Cipher exactly what I wanted. I wanted gentle touches, soft words, and a normal, human connection devoid of violence and coercion. I wanted someone who wouldn’t leave me aching and humiliated on the floor.
A throb pulsed between my legs at the memory of Cipher’s fingers slipping inside me. I forced the sensation down, locking it away.
I did not want the monster.
The elevator doors slid apart, and the volume of the party swallowed me.
Dawn had lied, or she had vastly underestimated the social ecosystem of Chroma Bay. The space was packed and there wasn’t any definition in existence that would allow it to be called a little party.
I stepped out of the foyer and spotted a cluster of Dawn’s museum colleagues shouting over the bass-heavy music.
A few feet away, sipping champagne, stood three League Villains in civilian clothes, blending in perfectly.
The guest list had clearly mutated, every invitee dragging along five of their closest friends.
There were easily a hundred people in attendance.
But it was the penthouse itself that really shocked me.
I moved into a massive room with soaring ceilings. The entire far wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows offering a jaw-dropping, unobstructed view of the bay and the glowing neon ribbons of the Phoenix Bridge. It was a view only obscene wealth could buy.
“Annie!” Dawn materialized from the crush of bodies, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. She threw her arms around my neck, smelling of gin and citrus mixed with her jasmine perfume.
“You made it!” she yelled over the music, pulling back with a wide grin.
“You threatened to drag me here by my hair if I didn’t come,” I reminded her, leaning in so she could hear me over the music. “This place is crazy. Is this really where Hunter lives?”
Dawn nodded, her smile turning sly. “He lives here, yeah. But Thomas owns it.”
My earlier theory calcified into absolute certainty.
Yep, Cipher’s definitely playing games. A man who owned a sprawling penthouse didn’t actually want a tired, rule-obsessed Keeper who lived in an apartment that was smaller than his coat closet.
He wanted to break my rules just to prove he could. He didn’t want me.
A sudden, sharp prickle of awareness broke out across the back of my neck. I knew immediately that Cipher hadn’t gotten caught up in his street clashes.
I turned my head, scanning the sea of bodies, and there he was.
He stood near the edge of the room, holding a lowball glass. He looked devastating. He wore dark slacks and a crisp white button-up shirt. The top two buttons were undone, exposing the strong column of his throat, and the sleeves were rolled up to reveal his forearms.
Dark, linear tattoos slashed across the skin of his forearms. I hadn’t known he had tattoos.
I glanced up and found him watching me, a slow smile forming on his face, like he’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t be. My cheeks started to burn and I forced myself to tear my gaze away.
Dawn poked my arm. “Let’s go talk to Thomas.”
“No.” The word snapped out of my mouth before I could filter it. I grabbed her wrist. “Is Finley here?”
Dawn blinked, her alcohol-laced enthusiasm faltering. “Yeah, but I thought you didn’t want to hook up with him?”
“I changed my mind.”
Her perfectly arched brow shot toward her hairline. “You want to talk to Finley instead of Thomas?”
“Yes,” I said. “Absolutely, yes.”
Dawn stared at me for a second, clearly baffled, before she finally shrugged. “Alright, your funeral.”
She linked her arm through mine and hauled me into the crowd. I glanced back at Cipher one last time but his smile only grew as he lifted his glass to me in a salute.
Dawn towed me through the crush of bodies, weaving past a group of tech bros arguing. We found Finley hovering near the kitchen island, clutching a beer.
Finley looked exactly how a museum curator and associate professor at Chroma Bay University should look.
He had an easy, open face, his brown hair styled in a perfectly messy, approachable swoop.
He was handsome. He was smart. He possessed a quirky, self-effacing sense of humor.
He screamed normal, everyday man who didn’t have a penchant for blowing up downtown on occasion.
When he spotted me, his entire face brightened. He set his beer down and his eyes dropped to the hem of my dress before snapping back up to my face.
I stepped up to him and tilted my head, offering up a bright, engaged smile.
I knew Cipher was watching. The oppressive weight of his stare burned against the back of my neck, mapping my movement in the crowded room.
I wanted him to see this. I wanted him to witness me choosing normalcy and absolute boredom over his games.
Dawn made a hasty excuse about needing another drink and abandoned us. Finley focused his entire attention on me. He asked about my week. He listened to my answers. He made a genuinely funny comment about the university’s tenure track politics. He was considerate, polite, and safe.
He was everything I should want.
“You look incredible tonight, Annie,” Finley murmured.
He reached out and his fingertips brushed against my forehead, tucking a loose wave of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered, his thumb tracing a slow path down the curve of my jawline.
My brain sent the logical command to my nervous system. React. Shiver. Arouse. This was a handsome man touching me with clear, consensual intent.
My body ignored the directive.
My heart maintained a steady rhythm. My skin remained perfectly cool under his fingertips. Down south, the situation was utterly dismal. My pussy remained unbothered, barren of moisture. My clit was practically comatose.
The realization was infuriating. Cipher only had to grip my chin and I turned into a desperate, needy mess. Finley stroked my skin with genuine affection, and my body shut down.
I looked over Finley’s shoulder and my eyes locked with silver.
Cipher stood exactly where I had left him, but his casual posture was gone. He was terrifyingly still. His gaze dropped to where Finley’s fingers had just stroked my skin, the muscles in his jaw ticking. He pushed off the wall and started stalking toward us.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. I had wanted to prove a point but I think I had only succeeded in provoking him.
“Annie?” Finley’s voice broke through the static in my ears. He touched my elbow, trying to get my attention. He had asked me a question and I hadn’t heard a single word.
Before I could force an apology out of my mouth, Cipher appeared beside us. His scent rolled over me, expensive cologne and a darker, sharper masculine scent underneath.
“Hello, Annie,” he murmured. The soft Scottish burr of his civilian identity rolled over my name.
I stiffened, refusing to shrink back. “Hello, Thomas.”
He reached past me to pluck a fresh lowball glass from a passing server’s tray and as he did so, he lowered his head, his mouth hovering next to my ear. “If he touches you again, I’m going to sever his hand from his wrist.”