Page 69

He exhales, scanning the crowd. "I wouldn't want to jump to any conclusions."

I tilt my head, feigning sweetness. "That's adorable. Truly." Then, before he can stop me, I disentangle my arm from his. "I'll be right back."

"Ava." His warning is quiet, but firm.

I ignore it and instead, cross the ballroom, each step languid, each flicker of silk against my skin a reminder of the armor I've chosen tonight. Vanessa Chase might be a queen in this world, but I refuse to bow.

She sees me coming. Of course she does.

She waits until I'm close enough, then tilts her head, her smirk dripping with amusement. "Ava."

"Vanessa."

She takes a slow sip of her champagne, eyes flicking over my dress, my jewelry, my presence at this event.

I smile. Let her look. Let her see.

She exhales, setting her glass down on a passing tray. "I was wondering how long it would take you to wander over."

I arch a brow. "Wander? Sweetheart, I marched."

A low laugh rises in her throat, but there's no real humor in it. "Oh, I like you."

"Likewise." I tilt my head, expression even. "But let's skip the pleasantries, shall we? You didn't come here for the charity auction."

Vanessa feigns thoughtfulness. "No, I suppose I didn't."

"Then let's stop pretending."

For a beat, Vanessa falls silent, like she's searching for the proper words to wound. Then, with a perfectly poised smile, she says, "How much do you actually know about him?"

The question lands with surgical precision, rattling me. I dig my nails into my palms. "Enough."

Her smile widens, wicked and knowing. "Do you?" She leans in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to be intimate. "Because let me tell you something, Ava. You think you're special, don't you?"

Dread fills me, but I hold my ground.

"You think you're different. That what you have with Liam is somehow real." She exhales, almost like she pities me. "But the thing about Liam Carter?" She gives a small, elegant shrug. "He'll always choose himself first."

The words are designed to sink into my skin, to plant doubt like a poison.

"God, Vanessa, you really don't know when to quit, do you?" I shake my head, forcing amusement to curl in my voice. "You're trying so hard to make me insecure, and honestly? It's kind of sad."

Her eyes darken, but her smile stays firmly in place. "You really should take my advice about being careful, Ava."

My response is to flash my kindest smile at her while keeping my voice as sweet as honey. "And you should stop underestimating me."

Vanessa holds my gaze for a beat longer, and then—for the first time—she hesitates.

It's quick. Barely noticeable.

A waiter passes, and I pluck another glass of champagne from the tray, raising it in mock salute. "Enjoy the party."

Then, without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and walk away.

And if my heart is hammering just a little too hard against my ribs?

Well. She doesn't need to know that.