The emerald dress fit like a second skin—if that second skin was made of liquid silk and scandal.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. The neckline plunged dangerously low, the back was entirely open, and the slit on the left side climbed high enough to make walking a calculated risk.
I had applied the makeup Claudia had left: blood-red lipstick and winged liner that made my eyes look sharp, predatory.
"Turn around."
Cassian's voice came from the doorway. I hadn't heard him enter.
I turned slowly. He was adjusting his cufflinks. He froze.
His eyes swept over me, starting at my heels and traveling slowly, agonizingly, up to my face. His gaze was heavy, physical. It felt like he was touching me from across the room.
"Well?" I asked, my voice slightly breathless. "Do I look like a prize?"
He walked toward me, stopping only when the toes of his dress shoes touched mine. He reached out, his knuckles grazing the bare skin of my shoulder, sending a shiver racing down my spine.
"You look," he said, his voice dropping to a rough timbre, "like ruin."
He didn't smile. He looked angry. Possessive.
"Remember the rules, Elena. You don't speak. You don't smile. You belong to me." He offered me his arm. "Let's go feed them their envy."
The Auction Hall was located in the island's underground cavern. It was a massive, domed space carved out of rock, illuminated by hundreds of floating crystal lights. It looked like a villain's lair designed by a billionaire.
The air smelled of expensive cologne, old money, and bloodlust.
As we descended the grand staircase, the murmur of conversation died. Heads turned. I felt the weight of a hundred eyes pressing against my skin. Men in tuxedos stopped drinking. Women in diamonds whispered behind their fans.
I gripped Cassian's arm tighter. He covered my hand with his, his thumb stroking my knuckles in a slow, rhythmic warning. Calm down.
"Don't look at the floor," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Look at them. Make them look away first."
I lifted my chin. I locked eyes with a man staring at my legs. He blinked and looked away.
Power.
We reached the floor. A waiter appeared with champagne. Cassian took a glass for me but held it himself.
"Vance," a oily voice slid through the crowd.
A man stepped into our path. He was young, handsome in a cruel sort of way, with slicked-back hair and a smile that showed too many teeth.
Luca. (The Outline's Antagonist).
"I heard the rumors," Luca said, his eyes ignoring Cassian completely and devouring me. "But the rumors didn't do her justice."
Cassian shifted, angling his body to block Luca's view. "Luca. I see your father let you off the leash."
"My father is busy running an empire," Luca drawled, stepping to the side to get a better look at me. He reached out, grabbing my hand before I could pull away. He brought it to his lips, his eyes locked on mine. "And who is this exquisite creature?"
I felt Cassian stiffen beside me. The air around us turned electric.
"She is not for sale, Luca," Cassian said, his voice dangerously quiet.
"Everything is for sale here, Vance," Luca smirked, kissing my knuckles. "It's an auction, isn't it? How much? I'll double whatever you paid."
The insult hung in the air. He was calling me a whore.
I tried to pull my hand back, but Luca held tight.
"Let go," I whispered.
"Feisty," Luca grinned.
Then, the world tilted.
Cassian moved faster than I could follow. One moment he was standing still; the next, he had seized Luca's wrist. There was a sickening crack.
Luca shouted, dropping my hand and stumbling back, clutching his wrist.
The room went dead silent. Security guards took a step forward but stopped when they saw the look on Cassian's face.
Cassian stepped in front of me, a wall of black tuxedo and lethal intent. He adjusted his cuffs calmly.
"Touch my fiancée again," Cassian said, his voice carrying through the silent hall, "and I will buy your family's debt just so I can bankrupt you for sport."
Luca's face turned purple with rage and pain. "You're making a mistake, Vance. You're declaring war."
"I am the war," Cassian replied coldly.
He put his hand on the small of my back—his bare skin against my bare skin—and guided me away. The crowd parted for us like the Red Sea.
My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might faint.
"You broke his wrist," I hissed as we reached our assigned table near the front.
"He touched you," Cassian said simply, pulling out my chair.
"Cassian, everyone is staring at us."
"Good," he said, sitting down next to me and draping his arm over the back of my chair, effectively boxing me in. "Let them stare. Let them know that the price of touching you is pain."
The lights dimmed. A spotlight hit the stage.
The Auctioneer, a tall woman in a white suit, walked to the podium.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Syndicate," she announced, her voice amplified by the speakers. "Welcome to Elysium. Let the bidding begin."
I looked at Cassian. He wasn't watching the stage. He was watching the shadows in the balcony.
"Stay sharp, Elena," he murmured, his hand finding my knee under the table and squeezing. "The game has started."