Chapter 6
ANNIE
I watched Cipher’s back as he walked away, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
Holy fucking shit. I’d just silently begged Cipher, the most dangerous Villain in the city, the man who’d broken my heart, not to murder my fake boyfriend in the middle of a retirement party.
And he’d listened.
Except Cipher didn’t do favors. He didn’t do mercy. Every single action he took was a transaction.
I had just opened a ledger with a monster.
The air in the ballroom felt too thin, choking me with the scent of expensive cologne. What was the going rate for sparing an asshole’s life? He was going to corner me. He was going to demand a payment I couldn’t afford to give him.
The muscles in my shoulders remained locked tight even as Valor’s fingers dug into my waist. I wanted to peel them off one by one and go take a long shower to get the feel of him off of me.
“What the fuck was his problem?” Valor muttered.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing hysterically. Valor had no idea how close he’d come to death.
God I was stupid. In my anger, I thought it would feel good to show Cipher that I’d “moved on.” But all I’d done by agreeing to this stupid PR stunt was provoke him.
I needed to find Havoc and let him know about our potential problem. I scanned the crowded ballroom. Where the hell had he disappeared to? Probably hiding in the lounge with a drink, avoiding small talk.
“There’s Senator Wilcox. I want to introduce you to him.” Valor nodded toward a silver-haired man across the room. “He’s a major donor to the Alliance, and I need to make an impression.”
“I’ve already met—“ I started.
“It’ll just take a minute, sweetheart.” He was already steering me through the crowd.
I dug my heels in, but he simply applied more pressure. “Valor, I’m not your sweetheart. I’m not your anything.”
“Tonight, you are.” His voice dropped to a glacial whisper, eyes hardening despite the perfect smile still plastered across his face. “This isn’t exactly my dream scenario either, Bishop.”
His mask slipped for just a second, revealing something calculating beneath all that manufactured charm.
“But unlike you,” he continued, “I understand what’s at stake. So smile like you mean it.”
His fingers tightened against my waist, just shy of painful.
“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth.
His face transformed instantly, radiance returning like someone had flipped a switch. “That’s my girl. Now smile. The senator’s looking.”
I plastered on a smile while my insides churned with panic. Somewhere in this ballroom, Cipher was watching. Waiting. Probably plotting Valor’s demise and I couldn’t entirely blame him.
“Senator Wilcox, may I present Annie Bishop?” Valor’s voice took on that polished, public-appearance tone that made my teeth ache.
The senator’s gaze traveled down my body, lingering in places that made my skin crawl. “Enchanted to meet you, my dear. Truly enchanted.”
I resisted the urge to cross my arms over my chest as his eyes lingered.
“Actually, Senator, we’ve met before. Several times.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Have we? Surely I’d remember someone as lovely as you.”
“I’m Havoc’s Senior Keeper. We’ve discussed Alliance funding several times in his office.”
The senator’s smile faltered for a second before recovering. “Of course! Forgive me. You look different tonight.”
Translation: I wasn’t wearing my Keeper uniform, so I’d suddenly become visible.
Valor and the senator launched into a conversation about media coverage that made my temples throb and I settled in for the long haul.
Over the next hour, Valor dragged me through the crowd like I was a shiny accessory he’d purchased specifically for this event. His hand kept migrating from my waist to my hip, occasionally dipping lower until I’d subtly shift away.
I spotted Cipher, deep in conversation with the League’s Finance Director. Then by the terrace doors, seemingly fascinated by whatever Commissioner Wallace was saying. Later, lounging against a column while a prominent League member laughed at something he’d said.
But I wasn’t fooled. Not even a little bit.
Each time I caught sight of him, his head was angled just slightly in my direction. I felt him tracking us, tracking Valor’s wandering hands specifically.
“You’re tense,” Valor murmured, stroking my back. “Let me get you another drink.”
“I’m fine,” I said, stepping away from his touch. “And you should probably keep your hands where everyone can see them. You’re a Hero, remember? The Alliance likes the squeaky clean look.”
Valor laughed, a perfect sound engineered for maximum charm. “You’re overthinking this, Annie. It’s just a little harmless flirting.”
“Harmless?” I hissed through my smile. “Your hand was practically on my ass in front of the Commissioner.”
“The public loves a romance.” His fingers brushed my bare shoulder, lingering just a second too long. “Besides, you should be flattered. Most women would kill to be in your position.”
“Most women haven’t seen your performance reviews,” I whispered sweetly, maintaining my smile while rage bubbled inside me.
His face hardened for a split second before relaxing back into something charming. “Careful, Keeper. You’re just staff. Replaceable staff.”
“And you’re just another pretty face with powers,” I countered. “The Alliance has a dozen more like you waiting in the wings.”
His fingers tightened around my wrist, hidden between our bodies. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
I leaned closer, my smile never wavering. “Neither do you.”
“Oh my god, you’re Valor!” A young woman in a shimmering yellow dress materialized at our side, her eyes wide with the unmistakable gleam of Hero worship. “I’ve followed your career since your first appearance!”
Valor released my wrist instantly. His threatening intensity vanished, replaced by humble charm.
“That’s incredibly kind of you to say.” He ducked his head while simultaneously straightening to his full height. “I’m just doing my best to protect our city.”
The fan clutched her chest and started gushing over him.
She looked ready to melt into a puddle at his feet when he turned his full smile on her.
Meanwhile, I was fighting the urge to gag as Valor placed his hand over his heart, his expression a masterclass in sincerity as he thanked her for her praise.
“You know,” I said when the woman finally walked away, “humility is actually an attractive quality in a Hero.”
Valor laughed like I’d told a particularly amusing joke. “Annie, people don’t want humility. They want something to aspire to. Someone to believe in.” He gestured to himself. “I’m giving them what they need.”
His ego was somehow even larger than Cipher’s, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. At least Cipher had the decency to acknowledge he was being an ass. Valor genuinely believed everyone should be grateful for his presence.
I pushed thoughts of Cipher away. Comparing the two men wasn’t helping my mood and the constant barrage of egos and power was starting to wear on me.
“We should head to the lounge,” I suggested. “It’s less crowded.”
Valor’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m not done mingling. Congressman Williams just arrived, and I need to discuss the Metahuman Protection Act with him.” He nodded toward an elderly man surrounded by aides.
“I’m getting a small headache. I just need somewhere quieter for a few minutes.”
“Deal with it,” he said dismissively, his attention already drifting to a group of influential donors. “Or go alone. I’m working the room.”
My patience snapped. “I’m your handler and I’m not supposed to leave your side because of your stunt with Ms. Sands, remember? I need a break. Now.”
For a moment, I thought he might actually refuse, but he must have realized how it would look if we started arguing in public.
“Fine,” he said through that camera-ready smile. “Five minutes.”
He placed his hand on my lower back again and guided me toward the terrace corridor.
“You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered as we moved through the crowd, stopping twice more for quick handshakes and greetings.
“I’m doing my job. Part of which is making sure you don’t overextend yourself.”
He snorted. “I don’t need a babysitter, Annie.”
“Alliance PR literally said that you do.”
“You know,” Valor said as we stepped outside, “you could try to look more impressed with me in public. It’s part of the deal.”
I bit back a sharp response. The quiet of the terrace beckoned, promising at least a temporary reprieve. The party hadn’t been going on long enough for anyone to really need air so it was deserted outside.
Thank god for small mercies.
“I specifically had my stylist send over a different red dress for tonight,” Valor continued, gesturing at my outfit with a dismissive flick of his wrist. “Its shade of red would have perfectly complemented my costume palette better than that red.”
I glanced down at my gown. An Alliance stylist had picked it out specifically because it matched the red of Valor’s stupid cape.
“I’m not your accessory.”
Valor laughed, the sound practiced and hollow. “Of course you are, Annie. The Alliance didn’t pair us because of your sparkling personality.” His eyes swept over me critically. “And that hair. That updo is too ordinary.”
I suppressed a growl. I thought the stylist had done a good job. I felt pretty with my hair styled this way.
“And the shoes,” he continued, his face twisted in genuine disappointment. “Kitten heels? Really? You’re already so much shorter than me. It throws off our entire aesthetic.”
I’d dealt with difficult Supers before, but Valor’s particular brand of narcissism was intolerable.
“Listen to me very carefully,” I said, keeping my voice low but sharp. “I am your handler for the evening, not your dress-up doll. The arrangement is that I appear as your girlfriend in public, not that I submit to your fashion critiques or ego trips.”