Chapter 11

**Day 5**

_POV KIRA_

Sunday 05, 3 PM...

He is not what most people think, not just an angry mobster or a heartless psychopath.

No, he is an enigma wrapped in a glacial calm, an impassive presence that always seems to walk the line of danger without ever losing his balance.

Tonight, reluctantly, I accompany him shopping for the big evening I have to face.

He hardly speaks, preferring to fixate on the ground beneath his feet or the dark corners of the store. The distance between us weighs heavily, a silence charged, almost palpable.

After what happened yesterday...

The boutique, illuminated by soft lighting, resembles a velvet and silk jewel box, with its walls laden with dresses and suits that seem to belong to another world, a world I never thought I would slip into one day.

A world of normal rich people.

I touch the fabric of a dress, trying to find my place in this mirror of appearances. There, behind me, Nicke stands frozen, like a statue of black marble.

I have never observed him enough.

His face, impassive, betrays nothing, no mood shifts, no warmth. Yet, I can guess, in the way he slightly clenches his fists without realizing it, that he is tense.

In the fitting room, I slip into a black dress made of cold, slightly shiny fabric. I then feel his presence behind me, motionless, almost too close, silent like the shadow that refuses to let me go.

– Kira... he murmurs, his deep, low voice a breath that rests on my neck without ever softening.

I slowly turn around, confronting those blue-white eyes where everything is held back, where no emotion seems willing to pierce the smooth surface of a frozen lake.

– This is not a game, Nicke, I say, placing my hands flat against his chest, feeling the rigidity of his muscles beneath my fingers. Don't get it wrong.

His gaze does not move, does not waver. He is there, cold, but this coldness is not absence; it is a wall, a boundary he has erected between himself and the world.

Except between him and me.

A slight smile, rare and cruel, brushes his lips before disappearing instantly, as if the mask could never falter.

I hate him.

He tilts his head, slices the space between us with a slow, calculated step. I close my eyes for a moment, almost tempted to give in to this thick atmosphere of electricity.

Yet, I quickly regain my composure, my hands gently tightening on his chest.

A final barrier.

– Not after this. Not you, I say, looking at him intently, my voice firm and sharp.

He has paralyzed it for life. Damn!

Silence returns, charged with a tension that takes your breath away. We are there, just a few centimeters apart, suspended in a game that no one really wants to lose or win.

I finally step out of the fitting room, trying to chase away this knot of tension that tightens my throat.

Nicke still follows me, silent, relentless. His gaze is an abyss into which I refuse to fall, yet I feel it burning, calculating.

– You're playing with fire, Kira. You know very well where it can lead you. His voice is cold, devoid of any appeal; it's a warning and a statement.

I lift my head, my eyes diving into his, defying the inner storm he refuses to show.

– It wasn't justified; you just wanted to be cruel, I tell him angrily, quickening my pace.

Not a word more.

Without a superfluous gesture, we leave the boutique to plunge into the excitement of the evening.

***11 PM

Walking almost hand in hand, although the warmth of our barely brushed fingers is the only tangible link, we enter the hall where all eyes stop on us as if scrutinizing a mystery to be uncovered.

I feel his gaze on me, burning with a chilling intensity, an invisible weight.

I lift my head, ready to face this night on my terms, in this ambiguous game between shadow and light, between enemies and accomplices, suspended between obsession and resistance.

The most dangerous tonight are Nicke and Raenso.

I find Lucas, so I let Sofia keep him company. She should occupy him for the evening. I, who thought I would see her flee after Nicke's semi-murder yesterday, she herself offered to come pick him up tonight.

So we came separately, for the sake of my mood.

Barely do our eyes meet when I find myself directly in Lucas's arms. He compliments me on the black satin dress I'm wearing, and I give him a small, subtle smile.

Then, the buzz of the hall turns into absolute silence as Clev, Nashtia, and Allya walk through the door. They instantly become the main attraction.

I feel light, almost floating, in this black dress that hugs my curves. Lucas, my brother, with his charming smile and sparkling eyes, makes me smile back.

He adores Nashtia.

As we chat, I notice Clev and Allya approaching Nicke. They exchange a few words, and I see Nicke smile at them, an expression both amused and calculating.

– Look who's here, Hren says as he approaches us. Still as mysterious, isn't she?

Lucas nods, a mischievous smile on his lips.

– I bet she has another plan in mind, he whispers.

I ignore them.

I turn my head just in time to see Nashtia approaching me, a big smile on her face.

– Kira! she exclaims, opening her arms. I've been looking for you all this time!

Before I can respond, she pulls me into her arms, squeezing me tightly.

– I wore a dress for you, you know, because you love me in a dress! I say, laughing.

– You look gorgeous, Kira! she exclaims, stepping back slightly to look at me.

I return her smile, happy to see her. The music starts playing, and the atmosphere becomes more festive.

As Nashtia pulls me toward the dance floor, I resist and glance at Lucas and Hren.

They continue to chat, laughing together, sharing anecdotes that seem to bring them closer.

A shiver of envy hits me slightly, like a cold breeze in an already lively evening.

I sense a shadow looming on the horizon, a familiar silhouette that disrupts the balance of the evening. Raenso approaches, his hard gaze fixed on Lucas.

Jealousy shines in his eyes like a threatening glow.

– Lucas, what are you doing here with Hren? Raens throws out, a hint of hostility in his voice.

Lucas, still relaxed, looks up and retorts with a nonchalant smile.

– I'm chatting with a friend. You know, it happens sometimes.

But Raens's tone leaves no room for lightness; his attitude is possessive, almost aggressive. I frown, annoyed by this sudden tension.

If Lucas were as small as before, I would understand. He is almost as tall as Raens now, and he is not weak; you can't be weak when you're in the shadows.

Lucas is his only friend, the only one who keeps him from sinking.

I know what he thinks; he is there to watch, to assert his dominance. His gaze slides over Lucas, an attention mixed with possessiveness and challenge.

– Maybe you should stay closer to your sister; your place isn't with him. His voice is a whisper, but it carries a dull threat.

Hren observes the situation calmly. This isn't the first time, but it's escalating.

I can't help but intervene. The atmosphere is charged with electricity, and I feel everyone around us holding their breath at this spectacle.

– Raens, he's not yours. Lucas is my brother, and he does what he wants, I say in a voice that is both firm and gentle.

Raens's gaze darkens, but I don't let myself be intimidated.

It's then that Nashtia intervenes, breaking the tension with her disarming lightness.

– Come on, don't be so dramatic! she exclaims, laughing lightly. We're here to have fun, right?

But Raens, stubborn, continues to size up Lucas with eyes that scream disdain. They don't break eye contact, a silent duel playing out before me.

Finally, Lucas swears under his breath, then steps away from Hren to grab a drink from a passing server. He stands behind me.

– This is why you shouldn't have come; you always ruin my evenings, Lucas points out with a sigh. He's used to it.

I feel the tension rising, a shiver of anxiety snakes down my spine. I don't want the evening to take a disastrous turn.

It's then that I catch sight of Nicke, out of the corner of my eye, drink in hand, motionless in the shadows, a silent observer whose expression remains impassive.

My heart races at the thought of the impact he could have on the situation.

I desperately try to bring back a light atmosphere. If he gets involved, it's over. He proved it to me yesterday, the extent of his impulsiveness; and still, he wasn't angry.

He was calm.

– Raens, stop it. Hren is not a rival, I say, taking on my firmest yet softest voice.

Raens glares at Lucas one last time, then, a sign of surrender, finally looks away, visibly frustrated.

Lucas is going to get hurt; you don't mess with the council president, especially when he's angry.

You don't mess with Raenso Osceti.

But before I can regain control of the evening, I feel a hand slip into mine.

It's Nashtia pulling me back to the dance floor, and I leave the tensions behind, ready to savor every bright moment of the night.

The music pulses in the air, and I let myself be carried away, aware that, no matter the shadows lurking around us, I am here to live and dance.

The evening has only just begun.

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