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Chapter 527
Chapter 527:
“Why p>
“Because I want to flush out your friend Alistair,” Lucian hissed. “I know he’s watching. And when he sees Kensington, he’ll make a move p>
He reached out and grabbed her chin, tilting her face up.
“And you,” Lucian said, “are going to be on my arm. Wearing the red dress I bought you. The one with the open back p>
“I won’t do it p>
“You will,” Lucian said. “Or I send Vargo into that cell with a hammer p>
He let go of her face.
“Lieutenant,” Lucian barked. “Take Ms. Sterling to the dressing room. Make sure she looks… expensive p>
The lieutenant stepped forward. “Yes, Boss p>
Skye looked at Lucian. He was a monster. A desperate, cornered monster.
But as she walked out, she realized something.
The gala. It would be in the ballroom. The ballroom was adjacent to the lobby.
If she could create a distraction… she could get to the statue.
“Fine,” Skye said, turning at the door. “I’ll be your trophy, Lucian. But don’t blame me if I shine too bright p>
Lucian smirked. “That’s exactly what I’m counting on p>
The gala was a sea of sharks in tuxedos.
The Crystal Ballroom of the Graves Casino was magnificent. Chandeliers the size of small cars hung from the ceiling. The air smelled of expensive perfume, lobster, and desperation.
Skye walked in on Lucian’s arm.
She wore red. It was a dress like liquid fire, crimson, clinging to every curve, with a back that plunged dangerously low. Around her neck was a diamond necklace that felt like a collar.
Camera flashes exploded like strobe lights.
𝗔𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗯𝗲.𝗰𝗼𝗺
“Mr. Graves! Over here! Who is the lady p>
Lucian stopped on the red carpet. He pulled Skye closer, his hand splayed possessively on her bare lower back.
“This,” Lucian announced to the press, his voice carrying over the din, “is my Queen p>
The reporters went wild.
Skye kept a frozen smile on her face. She felt like a doll. A very expensive, very breakable doll.
They moved into the room.
Skye scanned the crowd. She saw the usual suspects.
Politicians, mob wives, tech billionaires.
And then she saw him.
Liam Kensington.
He had been cleaned up, forced into a tuxedo that hung loosely on his frame. He stood near the bar, flanked by two guards. He looked tired. His face was gaunt, his eyes shadowed. But when he saw Skye, he straightened.
His eyes widened. He took in the red dress, the diamonds, and finally, Lucian’s hand on her waist.
