Page 227 of Evil Hearts

Dimitri nodded, his expression softening. “Ah, authenticity. A rare and precious thing in our world.”

“Do you believe in fate, Mr. Volkov?”

He rubbed his chin, pensive. “Fate has a way of guiding us, whether we realize it or not.”

Fate. The word lingered in Amelia’s thoughts like an old melody she couldn’t quite place. Was it fate that had led her to this enigmatic man? Or was it merely her restless heart seeking solace in the unknown?

She had constantly been told that fate was a grand design beyond human comprehension—a mysterious force that wove destinies together with invisible threads. Standing here with Dimitri, she wondered if fate was simply a series of choices leading her to this very moment.

Amelia’s pulse quickened. “Do you think it guided us here tonight?”

“Possibly.” A casual shrug. “Or perhaps a fortunate coincidence.”

Coincidence or destiny—did it matter?The intensity of his gaze made her question everything she thought she knew about herself and her aspirations. In Dimitri’s presence, the lines between reality, duty, and fantasy blurred, leaving her breathless with lustful wanting and powerful cravings.

Her cheeks warmed. “Either way, I’m glad for it.”

“As am I, Miss Lancaster.” His accent was low, captivating. “May I have the honor of showing you my gardens’ beauty?”

“I’d love that. Thank you.” Her heart fluttered in her chest.

They walked in sync in the garden and an astonishing sense of belonging swept over Amelia.

The night air was cool against her skin, yet there was a heat emanating from Dimitri that drew her closer despite herself.She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His profile was both hauntingly beautiful and achingly sad—as if he were a man burdened by secrets as dark as the shadows around them.

For the first time that night, Amelia allowed herself to hope she had found what she had been searching for all along: something real amidst the pretense.

Dimitri gestured to the mansion with a sweep of his hand as they stepped onto the patio etched by moonlight. “Did you know that Shadowfield is full of stories? Each room holds a tale of the past. It’s been in my family for generations.”

Amelia’s gaze followed Dimitri when he moved. She observed the ease with which his presence commanded the space around him, an island of calm amid the sea of opulence and extravagance. He turned and caught her eye, a coy smile curved his lips, and in that moment, she felt a surge of lust and desire flow through her.

He took her into his arms, and they began to sway in a slow waltz to the music inside.

“Tell me one,” Amelia said.

“Once, this was a place of secret gatherings, where forbidden knowledge was shared under cover of night.” His intonation was a soft murmur that tickled her ear.

“Secrets?” Her eyes widened, imagination alight. “Like hidden passageways or ghostly apparitions?”

“Possibly both,” Dimitri teased, his gaze holding hers captive. “But some secrets are closer to the heart, waiting for the right moment—or person—to be revealed.”

Her laughter was a light and airy sound. “You make it sound so romantic.”

Amelia and Dimitri danced, their bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. His hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her with a touch that was both tender and electrifying. Sheallowed herself to be led, savoring the thrill that zipped through her veins at his proximity.

Amelia tilted her head back, drinking in the star-studded sky. “I’ve never seen the stars shine so bright before,” she whispered, a little breathless. “Like a million diamonds against the darkest blue.”

Dimitri’s gaze followed hers upward before settling back on her face with a force that made her quiver. “They’re no match for you,” he purred, his accent slight. “You outshine them all, Amelia.”

Heat flooded her cheeks at the compliment, even as a small voice whispered a warning. Could she trust his flattery, or would he prove as false as the other men who had courted her? She pushed the thought away, losing herself in the dance, in the solid warmth of his body against hers. Tonight, she wanted to believe in the fairy tale.

“I’m finding it quite difficult to share you,” Dimitri admitted as they swayed to the music. A wry smile jerked at his lips. “Perhaps we could stay here a while longer? Keep the rest of the world at bay?”

Amelia met his stare, saw the glimmer of vulnerability there beneath the charm. “Why, Mr. Volkov,” she teased, “are you suggesting we hide away from all the other guests? How scandalous.”

“Ah, but you forget.” He spun her out and back into his arms in a move that left her breathless. “I’m a scoundrel, Miss Lancaster. Scandalous is my specialty.”

Amelia’s breath caught in her throat as Dimitri pulled her closer, the heat of his body radiating through the thin layers of her gown. His cologne, resonant and intoxicating, enveloped her senses, stirring a primal hunger within. She fought the urge to surrender completely, to lose herself in the passion of his smoldering gaze.

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