Chapter 3: The Gala of Shadows
297 Words
The dress William had left was the color of a midnight storm—dark, shimmering, and dangerously elegant. As Mirana adjusted the silk against her skin, she felt like a different person. The camera, hidden in a small, designer clutch specially modified for her, felt heavy with the weight of her mission.
She stood in the center of the room when the door opened.
William froze at the entrance. He was back in his formal military regalia, every medal on his chest reflecting the dim light. But for the first time, his cold, blue eyes widened. His gaze traveled from her golden hair down to the emerald eyes that now sparked with a mix of fear and defiance.
"You look..." he started, his voice unusually husky. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure. "You look like a distraction, Angelos. Try not to forget why we are there."
"Is that a compliment, Captain? Or an order?" Mirana walked toward him, the slit in her dress revealing just enough to make his jaw tighten.
William reached out, not to her hand, but to the small of her back, pulling her flush against him. The contrast between his stiff, wool uniform and her soft silk was intoxicating. "It’s a warning. The men at this gala are sharks. Stay close to me. If anyone asks, you are my personal assistant. If they look too long... let me handle it."
"I didn't know the 'Iron Protocol' included jealousy," she whispered, her breath hitching as his hand flattened against her waist.
"It includes protecting what belongs to me," William growled, his gaze dropping to her lips before he led her out. "And tonight, Mirana, you belong to the state. Which means, you belong to me."
- Writer
