The penthouse lights flickered softly over Alina’s skin as she stood before the mirror, adjusting her neckline.
Nicholas had picked the dress.
Black velvet.
No bra.
A slit high enough to steal air.
“You sure this is the look for a charity gala?” she murmured as he stepped behind her, fastening a delicate diamond chain around her neck.
He kissed her bare shoulder. “You’re not attending as an intern tonight. You’re attending as mine.”
Her breath hitched.
His voice, low and gravel rough, filled her ear. “They’ll be watching. So let them watch.”
The gala was held inside a chandelier-studded ballroom downtown.
Money, power, deception—all cloaked in laughter and champagne.
But Alina felt the tension coil inside Nicholas like a snake.
He was watching everyone.
Especially Victor Duran
