"Nobody is allowed between these pretty little thighs but me....and if anyone tries...𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦."
~
They call him The King-a ghost who rules the world's most powerful mafia from the shadows. No face. No mercy. No mistakes.
And beside...
-"Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath."-
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The music dipped into a slower swell — violins lingering, piano keys soft as velvet.
And that was when the doors opened again.
A ripple moved through the ballroom.
Not from grandeur or glamor.
But from quiet unease.
Alexei stepped through like a shadow in bespoke tailoring — black-on-black suit, satin collar, not a single wrinkle or spec of lint. His expression was smooth, unreadable. But his eyes — pale, cold, rimmed in something ancient — searched the crowd with a predator's patience.
Behind him came his men. Not many. Just enough.
Too clean. Too silent. Too still.
The air shifted.
Kaia didn't flinch — she never did — but her gaze sharpened. She'd already felt them arriving. Knew they would be here. What mattered now was how.
She touched Luca's arm once — featherlight — and he was already moving.
They excused themselves without words, drifting away from his family with such natural grace that no one questioned it. A glance here. A hand at Kaia's back. And then they melted into the darker stretch of the room, toward the edge of the gallery balcony that overlooked the ballroom floor.
Still visible.
But no longer touchable.
A protective distance.
Kaia's posture shifted the moment they stopped — one heel behind the other, shoulders angled toward the exit, left hand loose at her side. Every movement calculated for speed. For control.
And then, quietly, they closed in.
Blade first — silent and near, a statue carved in menace. He took post behind her left shoulder, his hand ghosting over the inner lining of his jacket.
Starr followed — more elegant than lethal, but just as dangerous. She positioned herself three paces behind Kaia's right, scanning the room with calm eyes and the smallest twitch in her lip. A signal.
Antonio was last to join. He didn't say anything — just took up station beside Luca, brushing dust from his cufflinks like he wasn't already clocking every threat in a fifteen-foot radius.
"Security's tight," he murmured. "But they came in light. No weapons we can see."
Kaia's voice was low. "Alexei wouldn't bring a gun into a room like this."
Below, Alexei stopped near the champagne tower. Took a flute. Raised it slightly toward the crowd in some mockery of courtesy — or dominion. The gesture meant nothing.
