The Devil's Touch

**CHAPTER 3**

Here’s the continuation of Chapter 2:

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I hated the parties. They were lavish and opulent, full of people who wore smiles like masks and wielded power like a weapon. My father’s world was ruthless, and these gatherings were just another battlefield—one where alliances were formed, deals were made, and threats were cloaked in pleasantries.

After dinner, I retreated to my room to prepare. My wardrobe was sparse, but I found a sleek black dress that fit the occasion. It hugged my figure without being too revealing, simple yet elegant. I pulled my auburn hair into a loose, effortless bun, letting a few strands frame my face. The emerald pendant my mother had left me rested against my collarbone—a small reminder of the warmth I’d lost.

By the time I came downstairs, my father was waiting by the door, his expression unreadable as always. He gave me a curt nod, his eyes briefly scanning me before he turned to leave. I followed him out to the car, where his driver, Marco, stood waiting.

The ride was silent, as it always was. My father stared out the window, lost in thought, while I sat stiffly beside him, trying to prepare myself for what was to come.

When we arrived, the sight before me was as overwhelming as I’d expected. The grand estate loomed ahead, its stone façade glowing under the golden lights that adorned its exterior. The driveway was filled with luxury cars, and the sound of classical music drifted through the air. People moved about in fine suits and glittering gowns, their laughter sharp and hollow.

As we entered, all eyes turned to my father. Lorenzo Torres name carried weight in this world—weight that was both respected and feared. People stepped aside as he moved through the crowd, offering polite greetings and hushed whispers. I trailed behind him, feeling like an outsider in a place I didn’t belong.

“Elena.” My father’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Yes?”

“Stay close. But pay attention. Observe.” His eyes were sharp, the way they always were when he was in this environment. “You’ll learn more from listening than from speaking.”

I nodded, knowing better than to argue.

As the evening wore on, I tried to do as he instructed. I watched the way people interacted, how their words didn’t always match their expressions. It was a game, a dance of power and manipulation, and I was still learning the steps.

Then, I saw him.

He stood across the room, leaning casually against a marble column. Tall, broad-shouldered, and impeccably dressed, he had an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. His dark gray eyes scanned the room like a predator surveying its territory. There was something dangerous about him, something that made the air around him feel charged.

Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through me. He didn’t smile, didn’t even nod, but the intensity of his gaze was enough to send my heart racing.

“Who’s that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

My father followed my gaze, his expression darkening. “Stay away from him.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s trouble.”

He didn’t elaborate, but his tone was enough to make me swallow my questions. Still, I couldn’t help but glance back at the stranger, my curiosity outweighing my better judgment.