LETHAL LEGACY

Chapter 6: The Invitation

POV: Leo

The invitation sat on my desk. The Vane Foundation Annual Gala.

Usually, I skipped it. But the Artist—the unseen threat tracking us—was escalating. I couldn't leave Rian alone tonight.

I picked up the phone.

"Dean Miller? The Gala tonight. I noticed the Architecture department is underrepresented."

"Tickets are five hundred pounds, Mr. Vane."

"I am donating a ticket for the top student. Mr. Ellis. Tell him attendance is mandatory for networking."

POV: Rian

"A Gala?" I stared at Professor Clarke. "Tonight?"

"It’s mandatory, Ellis. Go."

I walked out, panicking. "I don't have a tuxedo!"

"Problem?"

Leo was leaning against the wall.

"Leo! I have to go to this fancy Gala and I have nothing to wear."

Leo pushed off the wall, a dark satisfaction in his eyes.

"I know," Leo said. "My car is outside. We're going shopping."

POV: Rian

The tailor shop on Savile Row didn't have a sign.

"Mr. Vane," the tailor bowed.

"He needs evening wear," Leo said. "Midnight blue. Velvet. Slim fit."

"Velvet?" I whispered. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"You disappear in black," Leo muttered. "I want you to be seen."

I changed in the massive dressing room. When I stepped out, Leo stood up.

"The trousers are loose," he criticized.

He walked onto the podium. He knelt behind me. I felt his hands on my hips, adjusting the waistband. His hand slid down the inside of my leg.

My breath hitched. "Leo."

He looked up at me in the mirror. His eyes were black holes.

"You look expensive, Rian," Leo whispered. "Like something I should keep in a vault."

I stared at his reflection. This wasn't just a fitting. This was a claim.

"Are you going to fix the pants?" I squeaked. "Or just hold me?"

Leo squeezed my thigh once, hard. "Both."