Page 23 of Lord of the Dark

I followed her gaze—

And then it hit me like a physical blow. My heart stuttered, then hammered twice as hard.

There, in a quieter area with high-top tables, stood him. The focal point of every stolen glance. Black as Nox, the embodiment of night itself. As if he’d risen from the underworld for this evening alone. Surrounded by people in creams, blues, soft pastels—he stood out like a shadow draped over light. His black shirt clung to the breadth of his chest, top buttons undone as if etiquette meant nothing. Rolled sleeves bared forearms corded with strength, hinting at something dormant beneath that deceptive calm.

He hadn’t seen me yet.

But I—I couldn’t look away. Heat prickled through my nerves, pulsing low in my core, as if my body had already accepted what my mind still refused to acknowledge.

Then, almost imperceptibly, he lifted his head. His stare pinned me in place. I didn’t dare break it. A moment stretched into eternity.

But he wasn’t alone. A sharp pain lanced through me soviolently I had to hold my breath. A woman stood close beside him, her body nearly molded against his. She laughed at something he said, her hand resting casually on his arm as if she had every right to be there.

"Damn, he is hot," Rachel remarked, nudging me playfully. "Is he even allowed to be touched, or do you catch something?" She laughed, but I barely heard her.

My stomach twisted painfully. Completely irrational, completely unfounded—and yet so intense it nearly made me dizzy. Jealousy.

It surged through me like wildfire, turning my blood to liquid fire, my pulse frantic. I didn’t want to feel it. It was absurd.

"Oh, looks like the right people found each other," Delany commented dryly, his gaze also fixed on Russo. "That’s Valeria Santini, by the way. She’s not exactly known for letting opportunities slip."

My stomach clenched tighter. Valeria Santini. The name meant nothing to me. But the way she leaned into Russo, the way her fingers traced his arm with practiced ease—and most of all, the way he didn’t pull away—told me everything I needed to know.

The last shred of reason in me screamed to look away, to tell myself it didn’t matter, that I shouldn’t care. But my body burned with possessiveness, refusing to obey. My hands curled into fists without thought, my heart hammered so hard it hurt. Valeria Santini. I repeated the name in my mind like a curse, as if I could somehow decipher why the mere sound of it made my skin crawl. Maybe because she was the kind of woman who looked used to getting what she wanted. Maybe because she stood too close, already working to erase what little space remained between them.

"Don’t underestimate Santini. She was involved with a Russian oligarch," Delany continued, still watching her. "Then a few months ago, she suddenly came back to Miami alone."

I turned to him. "And? Where is he now?"

Delany’s lips twitched. "Good question. There are rumors."

"Rumors?" Rachel arched a brow, intrigued.

"This and that. Look at her—I’d bet money something’s happening there tonight," Delany mused, his tone dripping with amusement. The urge to shut him up with my fist flared white-hot in my veins.

"Santini’s a ruthless seductress... he won’t escape her tonight," he added, twisting the knife.

What was a seductress compared to a killer?

"Probably nothing serious, right?" Rachel leaned closer to me, her voice half-amused, half-curious.

"Of course not," I replied far too quickly and far too sharply. "Why?"

Amused, Rachel arched an eyebrow. "Dunno. Maybe because you're looking at her like you're about to rip her head off."

I forced a smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared. "Bullshit." But that was exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to stride over there, tear that perfect, flawless Valeria away from his side. Or just throw her straight into the goddamn ocean and let the crocodiles handle the rest.

My gaze flicked back to him, searching for a reaction. Nothing. No shift in his expression, no indication he'd even noticed me. He seemed utterly unaffected, as if my presence here wasn't even a footnote in his evening.

I bit my lip as my thoughts raced. It felt like someone had driven a white-hot thorn straight into my core. My demons were definitely unleashed, because what I felt in that moment was so intense, so destructive, it nearly overwhelmed even me.

I finally gave in to the impulse, fixed a cool smile on my face, turned to Delany, and let my fingertips glide lightly over his forearm. "Why don't you introduce us? I'd love to meet Valeria," I purred with feigned interest.

Rachel's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, is that really a good idea, Fiona?"

"It's the best one I've had in ages." I winked at her and linked arms with Christian, who smirked and pulled me closer, steering me through the crowd toward them. I allowed his touches, every movement—but my focus was locked on one person only. Valeria.

Christian stepped forward with a broad smile. "Alex, Valeria, I wanted to introduce someone." His hand settled possessively at my back—a gesture that suddenly seemed ridiculous. "This is Fiona Robertson."

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