Chapter 31: The Edge of Deception

Seraphina's fingers curled around the stem of her champagne flute as she watched Delacroix retreat into the mingling crowd. He masked it well, but she had seen the momentary shift in his demeanor—the moment when doubt, or perhaps fear, had crept in.

Adrian leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth. "He'll make his move soon."

Seraphina took a measured sip of her drink before answering. "Let's make sure he does."

She turned, her gaze sweeping across the ballroom. The grandeur of Montverre's estate was undeniable—gilded chandeliers cast a golden glow over the opulent gathering, and laughter and conversation wove a tapestry of carefully crafted deception. Here, power was exchanged in whispers, alliances forged and broken between the clinking of glasses.

And tonight, she intended to tip the scales.

A familiar figure caught her attention—Laurent. He was stationed near the far end of the room, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. She had not forgotten the name Adrian had given him. It had been deliberate, a calculated piece of a larger game.

Adrian's hand brushed lightly against hers, guiding her subtly toward the balcony doors. "Come," he murmured. "The night is far from over."

The cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth of the ballroom. The gardens stretched before them, candlelit paths winding through meticulously trimmed hedges. For a brief moment, the illusion of peace settled around them.

Seraphina turned to face Adrian fully. "Laurent is ready."

Adrian's expression was unreadable. "Then it's time we set the next trap."

She studied him, searching for the deeper currents beneath his composed exterior. "You named him after someone, didn't you?"

A flicker of something—perhaps amusement, perhaps something darker—crossed his face. "You noticed."

She arched a brow. "I notice everything."

A wry smirk played at his lips. "Yes, you do."

She waited, but Adrian merely reached for her hand, his thumb grazing her knuckles in a motion almost too tender for the conversation they were having.

"If we press Delacroix too hard, he'll bolt," Adrian said. "He needs to believe he still has control."

Seraphina's gaze darkened. "He lost control the moment he saw me tonight."

Adrian let out a low chuckle. "You do have a way of unraveling men, my dear."

She tilted her head, a slow, knowing smile curling her lips. "And yet, you remain standing."

"Do I?" he murmured, his voice dipping, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

The moment stretched between them, tension laced with something neither of them dared to name. Then, a shadow moved near the garden entrance. Laurent.

Adrian released her hand, the shift in his demeanor instant. "It begins."

Laurent inclined his head ever so slightly, a silent confirmation. The bait had been taken.

Seraphina's pulse quickened. The game was no longer just a dance in the ballroom. Tonight, the real battle would begin.