Page 3 of Romancing the Reaper

Her pictures don’t do her justice. She’s ethereal. Angelic.

Somebody that seems so effortlessly perfect ought to be criminal in some fashion or another. My breath catches in my chest. Stunning would be putting it lightly. She is wearing the dress on her body as if she were doing it a favor. No doubt the ivory and cream creation is one of Maeve’s. Cristiano's wife was actually my ex-fiancée for a minute or two, and she is also on my hit list, but I have to be careful how I start this.

The gown flows like liquid silver, hugging her delicate curves and shimmering under the lights. The intricate lacework anddelicate beading highlights her stunning beauty, making her look like a goddess descended from the heavens. Her dark hair has been styled elegantly, and her makeup is flawless, enhancing her striking features. For a moment, I’m struck dumb. I forget why I’m here and what I’m supposed to be doing. I forget everything that isn’t her as she walks up those stairs.

I shake my head, forcing myself to look at something, anything that isn’t her. I have to focus on the mission at hand. There will be plenty of time to admire her later. She might be incredibly gorgeous, but she’s still my target. I can’t afford to be distracted by her looks. I’ve worked way too hard for this opportunity and waited too long. Nothing will get in the way of my revenge. I won’t allow it.

Ada ascends the stairs alone, gracefully. Her bodyguard, the flea that’s been bugging me for months, has not been allowed to accompany her through the main entrance. Alberto will have been stopped by now and is working on her clearance. All according to my plan. I had to ensure that Ada would be vulnerable and unprotected as she makes her way inside.

To me.

My phone buzzes in my pocket for a second time. Liam doesn’t tolerate being ignored very well. No doubt the longer I let him sit there being bored, the more messages I’m going to get. But, for now, I need to keep my eye on the prize. So, I ignore my clingy cousin.

I wait, my patience slowly slipping with every passing second. The night has only just begun and I have to wait for the perfect opening. Ada starts to move back down the steps and into the room itself as I trail after her, blending into the background that most guests are oblivious to as Ada strikes pose after pose for the photographers and journalists. She seems to float from place to place as she moves easily in her skin. It’s an effortless sort of grace that simply cannot be taught. She has no idea of the true danger that she’s in right now, lurking so near. She makes such perfect prey, wholly oblivious of the predator so close to her. Ready and waiting to exploit even the smallest weakness that she might show.

I note the way she moves between people, the way she walks, the comments that she makes to those who address her.

However, between the pops of camera flashes, I notice something else, something I couldn’t have anticipated. There in the spaces between, when she thinks that people are not looking at her, I see subtle signs of what I can only assume is strain. There are moments where her megawatt smile… slips. Just a fraction, when her eyes grow distant. What sort of burdens does she carry to have such weight on her shoulders? To affect her in a place like this? What secrets lay beneath her polished exterior?

I intend to find them all out.

She moves further toward the large crowd and away from the photographers when her footing slips. Her heel catches on a step. She is about to humiliate herself in front of hundreds of people.

I don’t mean to move, but my body acts without thinking. My hand is around her slender waist as my other catches her by the wrist, elegantly saving her from planting that perfect face at the foot of the stairs. Her breath catches in her throat as she turns those bright, wide eyes up at me with a shocked expression. Slowly, my hand slides over her waist and her lower back, relishing in the silky feel of the dress sliding over her skin. When I’m sure that she’s steady on her own feet, I slowly let her go.

“T-thank you, sir.” She stammers, catching her breath and smiling like the slip was somehow deliberate and that she had planned the whole thing for attention. As she looks up at me once more, her hand sliding out of mine, there is some sort of unexpected jolt deep in my gut. Something that I’ve never felt before, like a flicker of something that I can’t quite identify.

I push it down as deep as possible and take a swift step back and away from her so that she can continue moving. As security, I’m not supposed to interact with the guests and I don’t want to blow my cover.

“You’re welcome.” I keep my eyes averted until I speak again. “Just doing my job.”

Her eyes widen in surprise when our gazes lock once more. Even as she starts to move back down the stairs, I clock the way that she glances back gratefully over her shoulders as if she might even be a little bit curious about me. All things that will work further in my favor.

My resolve solidifies. No matter how beautiful or kind she seems, she is still the key to his revenge. And I will not let anything, not even a moment of unexpected connection, deter me from my goal.

CHAPTER THREE

Ada

Ineed Alberto to come back quickly.

The Met Gala is in full swing. It should be more than enough to keep me completely occupied, but I don’t see a single friendly face around me. The vast halls of the Metropolitan Museum are wonderfully decorated and filled with more art than I can properly appreciate at this moment. Being surrounded by luminaries of the fashion and art world, and celebrities everywhere, is somewhat overwhelming if I’m being perfectly honest. The air is buzzing with chatter, and I am standing in the center of it all. I know that I cut a pretty picture, because I’m forcing myself to. The fabric of my dress seems to shimmer like liquid silver under the lights. I try to move as gracefully as possible, but a persistent feeling of unease gnaws at me.

It would be easier with Alberto behind me. I don’t know why one of the event organizers needed him of all people for their little emergency, but they put him in a position that he couldn’t refuse. All he told me was that, in order for me to attend the exclusive after party arrangements, this issue needed to be handled now before everything got fully underway. All things that just go right over my head. Alberto, ever dutiful, had of course insisted on handling it personally.

Have I really become so dependent on him that I can’t be alone for a few minutes on my own? Surely I haven’t sank quite that far. Have I? Anna Wintour, who always organizes the event, always insists on a super strict no phone policy, so I can’t even check up on him or get an estimated time he’ll be back.

Breathe, Ada.

I inhale slowly through my nose, trying to keep myself as steady as possible. I try to reset and refocus. It’s just a few hours and then I can go back and hide away in my apartment as long as I want to, in order to recharge myself.

When I open my eyes, I find I’m no longer alone. The security guard from earlier is standing in front of me with a flat expression.

He’s likely not supposed to be here, but I’m kind of glad that he is.

We had a moment on the stairs and that’s not something that happens to me very often. Even less with men that are actually as damned attractive as the man in front of me is..

“Hello again,” I greet him with a smile.

---