Page 59 of Fatal Bonds

Then the driver opens the door, and I step out first to offer Lindsey my hand. She follows me, her fingers soft and delicate as she accepts the help, and the cameras start flashing as her long legs appear. Shielding her from any unwanted exposure, I wait until she straightens her dress, and she looks up at me with a smile, then she takes my elbow so I can lead her up the steps.

“Just ignore them,” I state as she flinches from the attention of the cameramen, the shouts from anonymous faces as they ask who she is.

She nods, pressing her lips together as we climb, and her grip on my arm tightens. “Is it going to be like that all night?”

“Just until we get inside,” I promise.

She takes a breath, and her steps quicken slightly, making me smile.

“Name?” the ticketmaster asks as we reach the top landing and stop in front of his podium.

“Oh, um, Lindsey Payne,” she says, leaning closer to watch as his finger scans down the list on his iPad.

“Welcome,” he says as he finds her and clicks the screen, then notes my presence before gesturing that we can both enter the convention center.

Strangely enough, it’s the most ordinary entrance I’ve probably ever made to an event like this. With my typical arm of guards waiting outside so I won’t draw unnecessary attention and the mask hiding my identity, I could almost be invisible in a crowd of Chicago’s top echelon. It feels good to have Lindsey on my arm, and while she’s most definitely catching people’s eyes, no one seems to even notice I exist. More importantly, no one’s tried to stop me from entering the event.

Signs and ushers lead us toward the gala, and as we step into the ballroom, Lindsey’s steps falter.

“You alright?” I murmur, slowing to match her sudden hesitation.

“I’ve just never been to anything like this,” she says, taking the room in with wonder. “I mean, I’ve been to the theatre and New Year’s parties and stuff, but—this is like some high society event I thought Hollywood made up.”

I chuckle, her disbelief only intensifying my enjoyment. “Surprise.”

Lindsey snorts, but she lets me lead her farther into the room, where a live orchestra is playing classical music as people wander, drink, and socialize while others move across a sprawling dance floor.

“Care to dance?” I offer as she watches their movements, her expression almost envious.

“Are you kidding me? I can’t dance like that.”

“Why not?” I press, grasping her hand and putting the other on the small of her back so I can steer her toward the floor.

“Have youseenme dance?” she asks incredulously, resisting me without successfully stopping us.

“Yes,” I say, the heat in my voice mirroring my memory of watching her dance in the club. She might not know the ballroom steps, but Lindsey knows how to dance.

“Maks, I’ve never done this before,” she objects. “I don’t know anything about the foxtrot.”

“Good, because this is the waltz,” I tease, continuing to nudge her forward.

“I’m going to look like an idiot!” she hisses.

“I won’t let that happen,” I promise. “Just follow my lead. If you aren’t having fun after one song, we can stop.”

Lindsey groans, but she stops fighting me, and I smile as we reach the dance floor.

“This hand here,” I instruct, resting her left hand on my shoulder. Then I take her right hand with my left and put my right hand on the small of her back to bring her closer. “Breathe, Lindsey,” I say quietly, and when she gives a breathy laugh, I start to lead.

She gasps as we fall in seamlessly with the other dangers, her head turning to watch as we move with the motion of the crowd, and her feet follow effortlessly, her instincts carrying her in the right direction as she lets me sweep her across the dance floor.

“Holy shit,” she gasps, turning her eyes back to me, and a radiant smile breaks across her face.

“I told you you wouldn’t look like an idiot,” I say playfully.

Lindsey laughs, and the sound makes my pulse quicken. If this is my last night with her, I’m glad this is how we’re spending it. Seeing her happy means more to me than I ever thought possible, and it feels so fucking good to hold her. I know it’s going to make saying goodbye nearly impossible, but there was no way I could keep my distance tonight.

The song ends, and the dancers transition, some moving off the dance floor changing partners, and I smile down at Lindsey as I keep her in my arms.

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