A Dance of Shadows

The ballroom pulsed with tension, but for a moment, time seemed to slow. The arrival of Vincent Blackwood, Cassian Thorne, and Elise Moreau had shifted the atmosphere from high society glamour to something far more sinister.

But amid the chaos, only a few key players remained truly engaged in the game.

Vivian Whitmore – The Woman Who Refused to Lose

Vivian's hands were steady, but her mind was racing.

Vincent's arrival was unexpected, but what truly unsettled her was his attention on Daphne Lancaster. What connection did they share? And why did Daphne—always so composed—seem rattled?

Vivian watched carefully as Damian moved slightly in front of Daphne, a subtle, protective gesture. It was a dagger to Vivian's pride.

Damian should be shielding her, not the woman who had suddenly reappeared in his life like a ghost from the past.

I won't let her win.

Vivian turned her gaze to Elijah Sterling, who was watching the unfolding scene with his usual smirk. He was enjoying this too much. He had to know something.

She stepped closer. "Who are they really after, Elijah?"

He let out a soft chuckle, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "That's the question of the night, isn't it?"

"Don't play games with me."

Elijah's smirk didn't falter, but his tone dropped lower. "Careful, Vivian. You're so focused on Daphne that you're not seeing the bigger picture."

She frowned. "And what would that be?"

Elijah leaned in slightly, his lips barely brushing the rim of his glass as he murmured, "You're not the only one fighting for a place at Damian's side."

Daphne Lancaster – The Ghost of the Past

Daphne held her posture, but inside, she was unraveling.

Vincent.

She hadn't seen him in years, but the moment their eyes met, the memories came rushing back. Secrets. Betrayals. A deal she thought was long buried.

She had thought herself safe, hidden behind the Lancaster name. But Vincent Blackwood was the kind of man who never truly let go of unfinished business.

His voice was a whisper, yet it sliced through the air like a blade. "Surprised to see me, darling?"

Daphne forced a smile. "Vincent. I had no idea you were in town."

"That's the beauty of ghosts," he said smoothly. "They appear when you least expect them."

Damian's hand briefly brushed her back, steadying her. It was instinctive, protective. But Daphne didn't miss the way Vivian's eyes darkened at the gesture.

Vincent's gaze flickered toward Damian, amusement in his sharp, fox-like eyes. "Ah, so the prodigal Lancaster still plays knight in shining armor. Tell me, Damian, how well do you really know the woman you're protecting?"

Damian's jaw tightened. "Get to the point, Vincent."

Vincent smiled. "Oh, I intend to. But first, let's see if Daphne is willing to tell you the truth before I do."

Silence.

Daphne's heart pounded, but she maintained her composure.

She knew Vincent wasn't bluffing.

Wes Hawthorne – The Man Who Knew Too Much

Across the room, Wes Hawthorne observed it all.

Unlike the others, he wasn't here to play social games. He was a trainer, a man who understood instincts better than words. And right now, every muscle in Tiberius's body was tense.

The dog wasn't just wary—he was on high alert.

Wes knelt beside the massive beast, whispering, "What are you picking up, boy?"

Tiberius's ears twitched, his gaze locked onto Cassian Thorne.

Not Vincent. Not Elise. Cassian.

Interesting.

Wes glanced at Charlie Whitmore, who had also been watching the exchange with an expression of barely-contained curiosity.

"You're not planning to stay quiet about this, are you?" he asked.

Charlie smirked. "When have I ever stayed quiet?"

Wes sighed. "You do realize that the people in this room don't just ruin reputations. They ruin lives."

Charlie's eyes sparkled with something dangerous. "Good thing I'm not afraid of a little danger."

Tiberius suddenly let out a low, warning growl.

Wes followed his gaze—straight to Cassian Thorne, who was now watching Daphne with unsettling intensity.

A predator watching prey.

The Unraveling Begins

The tension was unbearable now. Even the guests who had been trying to enjoy the gala had noticed the shift in energy. The once-lively room had quieted.

Vincent took a slow step forward. "Daphne, darling, would you like to tell everyone why I'm here?"

Damian's hand tightened into a fist. "Enough. Say what you came to say or leave."

Vincent exhaled dramatically. "Fine. If you insist."

He turned to Daphne, eyes gleaming. "I came to collect a debt."

Vivian's lips parted slightly. A debt?

Damian's expression darkened. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Vincent smirked. "Oh, don't worry, Damian. It's nothing you owe. It's something she does."

All eyes fell on Daphne.

And for the first time that night, she had nothing to say.