Chapter 10: The Encounter
The grand ballroom hummed with life, its energy vibrating in every corner. Laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft melody of a live orchestra filled the air as the elite mingled beneath the sparkling chandeliers. Yet, outside the opulence of the ballroom, the atmosphere was quieter. In the hall that led to the hidden parts of the mansion, an unexpected moment was unfolding.
Seraphine Vasiliev, dressed in a gown of deep sapphire that shimmered in the dim light, stood in the shadow of a heavy curtain. The flurry of the ball was a distant sound to her, as she preferred it. The crowd, the attention—it all meant nothing. She didn't care about the whispers, the admiring eyes. She had never been interested in the applause of the world.
Tonight, like many others, she had no intention of making an appearance at the ball. Her family's reputation was already set in stone, her presence unnecessary in such trivialities. She stood alone, observing the guests from the periphery, waiting, her mind already running through a thousand calculations.
Her eyes swept over the gathering—until they landed on him.
The man who emerged from the ballroom doorway was stunning, and there was no denying it. Tall, with a lean but muscular frame, he carried himself with an effortless grace. His dark hair, messy yet perfectly styled, framed a face that could have been sculpted by gods. His sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and lips that looked like they were made to be kissed seemed at odds with the faint signs of distress on his face. His skin was smooth, pale under the ballroom lights, and the deep color of his eyes—almost black—seemed to shimmer with an intensity that could pierce the air.
But it wasn't just his appearance that caught Seraphine's attention. It was the way he moved. There was a sharpness to him, even in his current state. The subtle stagger in his steps, the slight tension in his posture—all of it told Seraphine that something was wrong. And yet, despite his visible weakness, there was an undeniable allure in him.
She could feel something in her chest tighten. It wasn't pity, nor was it sympathy—it was a pull. A force she couldn't explain.
Kian's steps faltered as the drug coursed through him, a haze descending over his mind. He could feel the weight of the world pressing against his chest, but when his gaze met hers across the hall, everything else seemed to fade. His breath caught in his throat as his heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, he was no longer aware of his staggering or the drug seeping through his veins.
There was something about her—a presence, a force that shook him to his core. Her beauty was undeniable, but it wasn't just her looks. It was the cold, almost dangerous aura she exuded. She didn't belong to this place, not in the way the others did. She was untouched by the frivolities of wealth and power. She was someone who could break you with a single glance and yet make you feel alive in a way nothing else ever could.
Her eyes—those piercing, calculating eyes—held his gaze with an intensity that made his heart race despite the confusion in his head. There was no emotion in her expression. It was the mask of a person who had seen too much, lived too much. But in the depths of her gaze, Kian saw something else. Something he couldn't name, couldn't understand.
And for the first time in his life, he felt... vulnerable.
He hadn't even realized he was moving until he was standing in front of her.
Her eyes flicked over him briefly, as though assessing him, and then her voice cut through the air like ice.
"You've been drugged," she stated, her tone calm, even detached. "I can help you, but you need to hold on for a little longer."
Kian blinked, his mind foggy from the effects of the drug, but the pull of her words hit him like a current. Her presence was magnetic, drawing him in, making the weight of the drug feel like a distant thought.
He couldn't explain it. He had met countless women in his life—beautiful, intelligent, powerful women—but none of them had made him feel like this. No one had ever made his heart beat like this, as though it was being woken up from a long slumber.
His chest tightened, and despite the haze clouding his mind, his focus was solely on her. His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, and he felt a sudden, sharp pull. He didn't know who she was, didn't care, but the connection was undeniable. His heart pounded in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, Kian felt something unfamiliar stir inside him—a need to reach out, to touch, to get closer to her.
But he didn't. He couldn't. He was too aware of the fog in his mind, too aware of the vulnerability the drug had created.
"I'll take you somewhere safe," Seraphine continued, her voice never wavering. "Follow me."