Page 120 of Shadow Waltz

“Helena collects beautiful things that belong to other people,” I replied, watching Ash process the implications with growing understanding. “But she's learned that some collections are more expensive to acquire than others.”

“Speaking of collections,” Noah said, glancing around the ballroom with obvious appreciation for the elegant setting, “this is quite the gathering. I count at least twelve organizations that normally communicate through intermediaries or explosives.”

“The masquerade theme provides useful cover for negotiations,” I explained. “Easier to conduct business when everyone's identity is officially concealed.”

“And easier to identify enemies when they think they're invisible,” Ash added, his analytical mind cutting straight to the strategic advantages of the evening's setup.

Adrian's expression shifted with approval, recognizing the intelligence behind the observation. “You've taught him well.”

“He taught himself,” I corrected, pride coloring my voice despite the formal setting. “I just gave him opportunities to demonstrate capabilities that others had overlooked.”

As the evening progressed, I watched Ash navigate increasingly complex social dynamics with growing confidence. The Calloways proved to be valuable allies in this process, their obvious respect for him helping to establish his credibility with other attendees who might otherwise dismiss him as irrelevant.

But it was during a brief lull in the networking, while Adrian was engaged in what looked like serious business discussion with representatives from the Dutch cartels, that Noah approached Ash with the kind of gentle intention that suggested private conversation.

“Mind if we get some air?” Noah asked, gesturing toward the balcony that overlooked Central Park. “All this elegant scheming is making me claustrophobic.”

I caught Ash's questioning look and nodded my approval, though I noticed the way Troy and Dmitri shifted position to maintain sight lines even as they gave the impression of casual mingling. The balcony was within the secured perimeter, but it also provided privacy for conversations that required discretion.

Through the glass doors, I could see them settling into chairs positioned to offer stunning views of the city while maintaining clear sightlines to the ballroom. Their conversation appeared relaxed, but I caught moments of intensity that suggested Noah was sharing something significant.

Adrian moved to stand beside me, hands in his pockets, shoulders rolling with an easy confidence that belied the sharp intelligence in his eyes. For a while, we watched in silence, the city lights below us glittering like spilled diamonds. I could feel Adrian’s gaze slide over to me, measuring, curious.

“He’s getting under your skin, isn’t he?” Adrian finally said, keeping his voice low so only I would hear. “Ash.”

I didn’t look away from the glass. “You noticed?”

Adrian smiled, not unkindly. “Luka, you don’t let just anyone close. And I know that look—you watch him like you’re waiting for something you can’t name.” He leaned in a little. “That’s not just business.”

I bristled, but there was no real anger behind it. Adrian knew me too well. “It’s… complicated,” I admitted. “He’s not what I expected. I thought I was buying a pretty distraction. Someone easy to manage, easy to forget. But Ash—he’s… more. He sees through everything. And I don’t know how to handle it.”

Adrian’s hand landed on my shoulder, grounding me. “You trust him?”

I thought about it, really thought, feeling the answer twist inside me. “I want to,” I said quietly. “He challenges me. He makes me want things I haven’t wanted in years. But it’s risky. Letting someone in, like this. Letting them see who I am beneath all this.” I gestured toward the tailored suit, the glittering world behind the glass. “It’s easier to be a monster than to be vulnerable.”

Adrian’s expression softened. “He makes you want to be something else?”

I let the silence stretch. “He makes me believe I could be.” My voice was barely a whisper.

Adrian gave a wry chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day. Luka Ivanov, the coldest bastard I know, brought low by a slip of a boy with sharp eyes and a stubborn heart.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t fight it too hard. Sometimes the things that scare us most are the things we need.”

I risked a sideways glance. “Was it like that for you? With Noah?”

He smiled, just a flicker of real warmth in his gaze. “It still is. Every day, he pushes me—makes me better, even when I don’t want to be.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “It’s terrifying.”

“It’s worth it,” Adrian said softly. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Luka. Not anymore.”

Twenty minutes later, they returned looking like they'd established genuine connection, the kind of understanding that came from recognizing shared experiences. Ash's expression carried new insight, while Noah looked satisfied with whatever guidance he'd been able to provide.

“Everything alright?” I asked as Ash rejoined me near the champagne service.

“More than alright,” Ash replied, his voice carrying undertones of something that might have been hope. “Noah gave me some perspective on... navigation in complicated relationships.”

Before I could ask for elaboration, the orchestra began playing the opening notes of a waltz, and I found myself offering Ash my hand with courtly formality that felt both natural and revolutionary.

“I don't know how to ballroom dance,” Ash murmured as I led him onto the marble floor where crystal light transformed us into figures from romantic fantasy.