Chapter 26
Blank Space
Kane
Everything’s running like clockwork. Mics are live. Cameras are rolling. Everyone's in position. The board is set, and the pieces are moving.
Khloe’s satisfied and has everything under control. I’ll check in as needed, but for now, it’s time to blend in.
Carrie deserves more than a raise for the intel she brought me. She pulled out all the stops. The whole fucking nine yards. I told her to make sure everything was seamless for them, and she did.
They’ve arrived, but I've been busy. Cam and the others are already scattered across the ballroom, keeping their ears to the ground while blending into the crowd.
I step through the doors, and the shift is immediate. The energy, the pulse, the weight of a hundred conversations humming under the music. The guests move with the kind of grace and confidence that only money and power can buy.
My earpiece crackles with a final check-in, confirming what I already know, everything is under control.
I catch security as he walks by. “I’m off the clock, don’t bother me unless it’s urgent.” He nods, already disappearing into the crowd. Good. I don’t need distractions.
I move with purpose, my gaze sweeping across the room until it lands on Tyler. He’s in his element, laughing, and surrounded by a cluster of women hanging onto his every word. He catches my eye and grins. He’s enjoying himself, even if he’ll never admit it.
Then I hear her laugh.
It cuts through the ballroom like a blade, sharp and impossible to ignore. Every other sound fades and my body moves before my mind can catch up.
Fuck. Me.
My chest tightens and the air around me is suddenly too thick and too hot.
Her dress catches the light as she moves around the dance floor. Her arm is draped around another man's. I register him in the way I'd register a chair. My focus is locked on her, and only her.
I watch the way the corners of her mouth lift, and oh my fucking God. I might actually have to worship this woman.
I stop dead in my tracks, like she’s just sucker-punched me from across the room. She doesn’t just look stunning, she looks untouchable. A goddess wrapped in a dress that could’ve been pulled straight from the night sky itself.
It clings to her in all the right ways, with slits high enough to make my throat go dry. The plunging neckline and intricate gold rope work? Jesus Christ. Whoever designed that dress must’ve had her in mind, because it’s not just a gown, it’s a weapon, and I’m about to be destroyed.
But it’s not just the dress.
It’s her.
The way she owns the space around her without even trying. That quiet, unshakable confidence has every man breaking himself to catch her eye. She doesn't see how she makes the world hold its breath. How she makes me hold mine.
Her gold and crimson mask shimmers, framing her face like something carved from fire. It makes her eyes look even more lethal.
Her dark hair falls in soft waves over one shoulder, and all I can think about is how badly I want to wrap it around my fist.
People don’t just glance, they fucking stare. Some openly, and some are playing it off. She moves like she’s daring the world to try. And I’ll be damned if I let anyone close enough to even think about taking that dare.
Then I see his hand resting possessively at her back as he leads her around the dance floor. A slow, hot surge of rage twists in my gut. I clench my jaw and my fingers flex at my sides.
“Easy, killer.”
Cam’s voice cuts through the storm behind me, as his hand claps down on my shoulder.
I school my expression, turning just enough to give him a measured look. My voice comes out clipped, the edge coming through whether I want it to or not.
“Sneak up on me like that again, and you might be the one with the black eye.”
Cam grins, completely unbothered. “Relax. The way you’re staring, I’m more worried about his eyes.”
My jaw flexes, but I don’t bother arguing. My gaze cuts back to her.
“If he keeps looking at her like he’s about to fucking devour her—” my voice lowers. “I can’t promise he’ll walk out of here without a scratch.”
Cam raises a brow, smirking like the infuriating bastard he is. “Oh, you mean the way you’re looking at her? Glass houses, my friend.”
I tear my eyes away long enough to pin him with a glare. He’s already laughing, and the sound scrapes across my nerves. “Keep laughing, and you’ll be next.”
He slaps me on the back. “I’d say good luck, but maybe I should save it for the poor bastard trying to hold her attention.” His tone is laced with the kind of amusement that only pisses me off more. “Just remember, no broken bones.”
With a chuckle, he strolls off, leaving me simmering.
My look back at her, scanning for the smallest hint of discomfort. I watch the way she moves, the way she laughs, the slight tilt of her head.
That idiot with his hands all over her will find out just how fast I can rearrange his fingers if he even thinks about stepping out of line. His irritation's written all over his face, but it's her expression that locks every muscle in my body tight.
I take a step forward, ready to close the distance, but she straightens. Her mouth curves around some careless reply and I see his jaw tick as irritation flashes across his face. He's still breathing her air, and that's more than I can stand.
That’s it. I’m done watching.
I cut through the crowd and she spins straight into me, her chest hitting mine before she even realizes what happened.
She’s even more devastating up close.
That dress leaves nothing to the imagination. Every curve is on display, begging to be traced by my tongue, and it takes everything in me not to ruin her right here in the middle of the ballroom.
I’m instantly fighting a boner.
I take her hand, spinning her into the dance, revealing flashes of smooth golden skin. She bites her fucking lip and I swallow a groan.
That familiar scent of vanilla wraps around me, and I know I'm already fucked.
I lean in, close enough that her breath ghosts across my skin.
My hand settles low at her back, dragging her into me until there's nowhere else for her to go.
Her eyes snap to mine, and the fire behind them is barely contained.
She wants to hide it and pretend she's untouched. But I see every fucking spark.
I lean in, keeping my voice low, watching the way she reacts to every inch of space closing between us.
“Has anyone told you tonight just how stunning you look?”
She looks away, her discomfort clear. Don’t you fucking dare hide from me. I catch her chin, tilting her face back toward mine. I’m about to tell her exactly that when something over her shoulder catches my attention. Khloe.
She’s standing near the east door, deep in conversation with a man.
“Wait, Kane?”
My earpiece crackles, telling me someone’s needed at the east door. The door where Khloe is standing.
Perfect fucking timing.
I hesitate long enough to feel that sharp tug pulling me in opposite directions.
The job. And her.
I grit my teeth, taking a step back. I walk straight for the east doors, irritation simmering under my skin. Whoever this guy is, he just ruined a perfectly good moment. And I might throw him out on principle alone.
I catch Khloe’s expression, and the second the guy spots me, he bolts in the opposite direction.
My sister sighs, turning with a shake of her head.
“I had that under control, you assholes.”
I smile, knowing every single person on comms just heard that. “And?”
She rolls her eyes. “If I catch anyone with eyes on him, you’re all fired.”
“You okay?” I keep my tone casual hoping at least someone is smart enough to have eyes on him, despite her threat.
She crosses her arms, unimpressed. “I don’t need my brother and all his men swooping in every time someone asks for a dance.”
I say nothing, waiting for her to keep going.
She grins, looking out toward the ballroom. “Besides, it looks like you’ve got your hands full anyway.”
Then, with a wink, she turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd. I already know I’m going to regret letting her walk off that easily.
Cam’s laughter crackles over the earpiece, full of that infuriating amusement only he can pull off. I ignore him, watching as he veers toward the girls, blending into the crowd.
I tap my earpiece. “Can you have the band play Enchanted by Taylor Swift? Thanks.”
I exhale, clenching my jaw. Fuck it. “Hey, Princess.”
Smooth. Real fucking smooth.
“Hey, Princess?” She echoes, lifting a brow. “We are absolutely going to talk about this, just not during my song.”
Then, like a switch, she releases a breath, closing her eyes. A slow smile spreads across her face. “I’m having a magical evening, by the way. Thanks for asking.”
Oh, I fucking bet she is.
I tug her closer, pulling her into the rhythm of the dance, letting the music weave around us like a carefully laid trap. “Enchanted to meet you, by the way.”
She tilts her head, then her lips curve into a wicked grin.
“Why, thank you…” she trails off. Her sultry tone, runs down my spine like a fucking caress. “Sir.”
Fucking hell.
I step back, putting enough space between us to keep my dick from making its presence known. My body has zero intention of behaving tonight. Every move she makes, every teasing flicker of her gaze, has me teetering on the edge of control.
I school my face, trying to stay composed, but I don't miss the way her body reacts. Her hands feel warm against mine, which is proof she's already undone while I haven't even touched her yet.
I lean in, lowering my voice just enough to pull her attention back to me.
“I could say it a thousand times how fucking stunning you are, and it still wouldn't be enough.”
Her eyes snap to mine, her breath catching for a second before she blinks it away.
“Thank you.”