Harrison Knowles placed a warm hand on his daughter's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He was practically glowing, proud to show off his only heir.
"Annalise, there's someone I want you to meet," he said, his voice booming with good cheer. "A young man who has been making quite a name for himself."
Annalise turned, her polite smile fixed in place. "Of course, Daddy."
She followed her father's gaze to the man sitting across the table. He stood up as they approached, unfolding to his full height.
He was tall, with broad shoulders that filled out his custom tuxedo perfectly. His hair was dark, pushed back from a face that was all sharp angles and hard lines. But it was his eyes that stopped her in her tracks. They were a deep, unsettling blue, like the ocean during a storm.
"Annalise, this is Angelo Molina," Harrison announced, his tone carrying a heavy weight of expectation.
The name struck her like a heavy blow. Angelo Molina. In her past life, he was the cold and distant fiancé her father had forced upon her. A man who treated marriage as a business transaction, devoid of warmth, interest, and emotion.
But as she looked at him now, something flickered in those dark blue eyes. It was there and gone in a flash, so fast she almost missed it. A tightening around his pupils, a brief tremor in his jaw.
He extended his hand. "Happy birthday, Annalise."
His voice was low, a rough rumble that vibrated in the air between them.
Annalise hesitated for a fraction of a second. In the past, she had recoiled from this man, seeing him as a jailer. But now, she saw something else. A weapon.
She reached out and slid her palm against his. His skin was warm, his grip firm.
The moment their hands touched, his fingers tightened around hers. It wasn't painful, but it was insistent. Like he was trying to make sure she was solid, that she wouldn't disappear.
Annalise looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Thank you, Mr. Molina."
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Angelo. Call me Angelo."
Harrison chuckled, slapping Angelo on the back. "I'll leave you two to get acquainted."
Annalise pulled her hand back, her mind racing. She needed a shield, someone powerful enough to keep Greggory at bay. Angelo Molina was a fortress. If she played her cards right, she could use his reputation to protect herself while she dismantled her enemies.
Angelo stood perfectly still, his gaze tracking her every micro-expression. Then, his focus dropped. It lingered on her feet, visible beneath the hem of her dress.
The skin around her ankle was red, rubbed raw by the stiff leather of her new heels. A small, angry blister was forming on the side of her heel.
Angelo's brow furrowed. The lines on his face deepened, and for a second, the cold businessman looked almost... pained.
He didn't say a word. He just shifted his weight, taking a half-step forward and moving his body slightly to the left. It was a subtle move, but his tall frame effectively blocked the line of sight from the densest part of the crowd in the center of the room, creating a small visual blind spot for her feet, and more importantly, it blocked the path of anyone trying to walk too close to her.
Annalise blinked, surprised by the instinctive, protective gesture. It was a small thing, but it was a shield she hadn't asked for.
Across the room, Greggory's face was a thundercloud. He watched the tall, dark figure of Angelo Molina stand so close to his fiancée, and his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Alta stood beside him, her face pale. Her fingers dug into her palms, her knuckles white. "Who does she think she is?" she hissed through a fake smile.
Annalise caught their reactions out of the corner of her eye. A cold satisfaction settled in her chest.
She picked up her champagne flute and turned to Angelo, raising it slightly in his direction. The gesture was intimate, a clear signal to the watching crowd.
"To new beginnings," she said, her voice clear enough to carry.
Angelo lifted his own glass, his eyes never leaving hers. "To new beginnings."
He took a sip, but his gaze was heavy, probing. It felt like he was looking right through the carefully constructed armor she had put on, straight into the rage that fueled her.
The intensity made her uncomfortable. She wasn't used to being seen. She quickly looked away, breaking the eye contact.
"My feet are killing me," she lied smoothly, using it as an excuse. "I need to sit for a moment."
Angelo didn't miss a beat. He reached out, his hand hovering at the small of her back without actually touching her, guiding her toward a quieter alcove away from the main floor.
Harrison gave her an approving nod as they walked away.
The alcove was dimly lit, the noise of the party fading to a dull roar. Angelo's hand finally settled on her waist, his thumb pressing gently through the silk of her dress.
Annalise's pulse skipped. The scent of him filled the small space-clean cedar and something darker, something that smelled like a warning.
She looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat. This man wasn't just a cold businessman. There was something else there, something sharp and dangerous lurking beneath the surface.
She had allied herself with a predator. And she wasn't entirely sure he wasn't the most dangerous one in the room.
