Nikolai POV
Valentina Moretti walked away from me like she had not just taken a knife to every assumption I had made about her.
I watched her go.
That was the first thing I should not have done.
Her red dress moved around her body like dark water, and every step was controlled, unhurried, deliberate.
She did not glance back to check whether I was still looking. She did not need to.
She knew.
That irritated me.
Across the ballroom, Rafael Moretti appeared at her side almost immediately, mouth moving close to her ear. She answered him without looking away from the crowd, her hand brushing the ruby ring on her finger. Her expression was calm again.
Untouched.
As if our dance had meant nothing.
As if the air between us had not changed the second my hand touched her waist.
I hate
