A Dance with Danger

Chapter Thirteen

**Ilaria's POV**

The doors to the grand ballroom swung open as Tiberius and I stepped inside. The soft murmur of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the warm glow of crystal chandeliers greeted us, wrapping the room in an air of elegance and anticipation.

Every detail of the evening had been carefully planned—this was my charity ball, the culmination of months of work. It was meant to be a night of hope and giving, all for the orphanage I had poured my heart into. But tonight… something felt off.

I looked up at Tiberius as we crossed the threshold, his hand resting lightly at the small of my back. He was always steady, a quiet presence amidst the chaos that seemed to follow me. Tall, composed, in his sharp tuxedo, he cut through the crowd like he owned the room—but he was here for me, not for any kind of spotlight. His steady gaze met mine, and I could see the subtle concern there, but he didn’t say anything. He never did, unless I asked.

I forced a smile, trying to shake off the growing unease that had settled in my chest. I was here to raise money for the children who needed it most. The orphanage needed every penny we could collect. But the presence of certain people in the room was already souring the air. Archibald was one of them.

I tried to focus on the task at hand—thank the donors, make sure everything ran smoothly, keep up appearances—but every time I saw Archibald lurking in the corner of the room, chatting with the richest patrons, my stomach churned. He wasn’t here for the children. He was here for himself.

"Is something bothering you?" Tiberius asked, his voice low but perceptive.

I hesitated, glancing over at Archibald, who was speaking to a couple of influential figures near the bar. The smile on his face was too practiced, too insincere. "Your grandfather," I muttered, barely loud enough for Tiberius to hear. "Archibald. He’s using this for his own gain. I can’t stand it."

Tiberius followed my gaze, his eyes darkened. “As long as he doesn’t do anything stupid, I’m fine.” I started to calm a little as guests appeared for a conversation.

Until Tiberius was pulled away for a private one, I was left alone to speak with others and answer any of their questions.

I was slowly forgetting about the situation until I heard his voice. “He left you alone,” a gruff voice drawled from behind me. I turned to face Tiberius and Skylar’s grandfather, Archibald Sokolov.

“That is not your concern, Mr. Sokolov,” I replied, my voice steady but my fingers twitching with the urge to punch him. “Apologize if I’m being out of line.”

Archibald’s lips curled into a smirk. “It’s a shame he left a... black beauty like you here all by herself, surrounded by hungry men.”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as his fingers closed around my forearm with surprising force. His grip was tight, possessive. It was as if he thought he could claim me as easily as he claimed everything else in his life. “It’s a shame you thought this was going to work.”

I jerked my arm free and glared at him, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask. “By what means? My fiancé loves me.”

“Fiancé?” Archibald sneered, taking a slow sip from a passing tray of drinks. “Or a marriage of convenience?”

“That information is none of your concern,” I snapped back, attempting to brush past him. He grunted in frustration, blocking my path.

“It is when a woman like you is entering my family and taking my last name!”

I halted, turning to face him, my voice laced with feigned concern. “Really? Did he tell you that all women carrying my name must go through me?”

“Because you’re not his type.”

My disbelief flared into anger, and tears stung my eyes. “You’re right,” I said quietly, arching an eyebrow. Archibald looked pleased with my response.

With no intention of letting him have the last word, I turned on my heel, a smile creeping onto my face. “Oh, and by the way,” I said, half-turning my body to face him again, “your invitation has just expired. Have a good night.”

Without waiting for his response, I turned sharply on my heel, feeling the burn of his stare in my back. My chest heaved as I walked away, my thoughts swirling with a mix of fury and frustration. How could I have been so blind? Archibald wasn’t just a nuisance; he was a threat.

The moment I reached the quieter part of the ballroom, I felt my composure slipping. I needed a minute. I needed someone I trusted, someone who didn’t try to take advantage of me.

Tiberius was still standing with a donor, speaking in low tones. He glanced up as I approached, his eyes softening instantly.

His eyes flicked over me with a sense of understanding, and without a word, I stepped into his arm.

I didn’t say anything. My hand found its way to his chest, fingers curling lightly against the fabric of his tuxedo.

He immediately responded, his hand finding my waist, pulling me against him with a quiet, comforting pressure.

“Excuse me as I go find my wife,” Jeremy said as he passed us.

For a moment, the noise of the party faded. I could feel his heart beneath my hand, steady and strong, a stark contrast to the storm swirling inside me.

His other arm slid around me, drawing me closer still, his warmth anchoring me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

I looked up at him, my pulse still racing. "I can’t stand him," I muttered, my voice rough. “The next time I see him, I am throwing hands! He’s such a jerk.”

Tiberius didn’t answer with words. His gaze softened, his eyes reflecting something I couldn’t quite place—tenderness, understanding, maybe even a quiet resolve. He pulled me even closer.

Behind us, the person Tiberius had been speaking to continued on, oblivious to what was happening. Tiberius didn’t care. His focus was entirely on me, his arm secure around my waist as he gently pulled me deeper into his embrace.

I let out a slow breath, resting my forehead against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body. "I don’t know what to do," I whispered, the frustration creeping into my voice. "I don’t want to lose this."

"You won’t," he said softly, his voice steady, unwavering. "Even if I have to kill him myself."

His arms tightened around me, and for the first time that night, I felt a sense of peace settling in my chest. The weight of the evening, the pressure of the charity, and the tension with Archibald—none of it seemed quite as overwhelming in his arms.

I didn’t need to say anything more. Tiberius was my anchor for the night.

“Other than Archibald, are you enjoying the evening?” Tiberius asked.

“I’m so proud of my work,” I replied, giving him a small smile.

Lily, one of the servers, approached us with a smile. “Miss Greyson, it’s time for the speech.” Tiberius and I shared a look before we stepped onto the stage.

He helped me onto the podium as the guests moved closer. Tiberius stood beside me, a silent strength at my side. The room grew silent. I took a deep breath and moved closer to the microphone.

“Tonight,” I began, my gaze sweeping across the room, “We come together not just to celebrate the luxury of wealth, but to offer hope to those who have none. The children in our orphanage represent a future that could be brighter if we invest in them. Our actions tonight can change lives. Together, we can make a difference. At the age of nine, I’ve dreamed of hosting a charity ball and raising money for the orphanage. And tonight, that dream has become a reality. Thank you so much for your generous support to help those children.”

The applause was immediate, and I allowed myself a brief moment of satisfaction, my eyes moving toward Tiberius. He stepped toward me.

His arm instinctively wrapped around my waist once more as the applause continued. Tiberius leaned in close to my ear. “That’s my girl.” My cheeks burned at his words.

My heart quickened at his words. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I responded.