Page 35 of No Longer Mine

The questions kept coming, but I dodged most of them with political charm and half-smirks, keeping my answers short, vague, and just compelling enough to keep them hooked. I wasgrowing antsy as more questions were fired at me. I didn’t have time to do this all night. The real party was waiting.

The celebration—the exclusive gala where the city’s most powerful figures would drink, gloat, and scheme—was just beginning.

I had plans for tonight because the party wasn’t just about me. It was my first chance to see who really had their bets placed on me. Who wanted favors. Who was already planning my downfall. I already had a few people calling me and trying to get my attention. My father wasn’t among those, but I had a feeling he would be in attendance tonight. If he wasn’t, it would be a scandal, and it wasn’t one that my father could afford.

Even though I wasn’t particularly thrilled about it, I knew my family was waiting for me at tonight’s celebration. They were proud of me, even if they knew it wasn’t all that it was chalked up to be.

When I finally arrived at the party, my mother was the first one to greet me. She wore a beautiful sparkling silver gown. My father wasn’t on her arm, and I didn’t expect him to be either. He was at the bar ordering drinks.

My mother’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears as she grinned at me. “I’ve never been so proud of you.”

“I guess it’s about time I did something to be proud of.”

My mother grabbed my cheeks as cameras flashed. As much as I hated this kind of show, it was necessary. I needed to look human—relatable to the people. Even though I’d been sworn in didn’t mean anything; there was a lot of work to be done, and if I wanted a reelection— to stay in power, of course— I would need to keep the people happy. It was a never-ending cycle.

“You are my son. I will always be proud of you for anything and everything you do. You are a force to be reckoned with.”

I kissed her cheek and moved on to the next person waiting for me. Surprisingly, it was my sister-in-law, Carina. Ace stood slightly off to the side, and I wondered what his game was. Why was he here? Formality? Business? Father? Did he want a favor from me?

Carina launched herself into my arms and squealed. “You are a badass.”

I smirked as I patted her back gently. She was a beauty tonight; most men in attendance couldn’t keep their eyes off of her. “Thank you. Is Audrey here too?”

The beauty pouted. “They’re on their way, said something about traffic, but for some odd reason, Alexei hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of her. So I think they pulled over for a quickie.”

I grimaced. Some things I didn’t need to know about the closest people in my life. But it did explain why Alexei was always late and blamed it on traffic. More like a traffic stop. Their poor driver.

The night blurred with back pats and handshakes, smiles that never reached the eyes. People congratulated me, toasted to my success, but I wasn’t fooled. Every word of praise was a calculated move, every raised glass an attempt to align themselves with power.

Benson was busy sniffing out who was genuine and who wanted something from me. Not that it was difficult for a super hacker to dig up dirt. He wasn’t here tonight—after all, I owed him for too many nights out—but he was still working behind the scenes, feeding me intel from his computer. Every few minutes, my phone vibrated with another message. Names, affiliations, red flags. Who I could trust. Who I couldn’t.

I appreciated the effort. But I knew I’d learn the hard way, one way or another.

Another toast. Another meaningless speech. And then?—

A flash of red in the corner of my eye.

My grip on the champagne glass tightened as I turned. It couldn’t be.

But there she was.

It had been months since I last saw her at the club. Since she disappeared without a trace. Every lead, every scent, and every damn trail had gone cold. I had searched, I had hunted, and when that failed, I had begged. I’d swallowed my pride and called in a favor from Benson, only to confirm what I already suspected—she was that good.

No security footage. Either she had someone wiping her tracks, or she knew exactly how to move, how to disappear, and how to slip through my fingers like she’d never existed at all. It only made me want her more.

My jaw locked as my gaze dragged over her body, my pulse hammering against my ribs. She was a fever dream in black lace. A fantasy I hadn’t been able to shake. And I had seen her half-naked, wrapped around a pole, drenched in neon and smoke. But this?

This was something else.

This was power. This was destruction.

The dress clung to her like sin—dangerous, and intentional. The bodice sculpted every perfect curve, the lace teasing at the edges of propriety, daring anyone to look too long. And I did. Consequences be damned.

She was effortless, moving through the room as if she belonged. As if she hadn’t spent months running. The fabric wrapped around her waist like temptation itself, the skirt flaring just enough to soften the edges of something already dripping in seduction.

And then—he touched her.

I forced my fingers to uncurl from the champagne glass before I shattered it in my grip.