The flash of the cameras was a physical assault. It turned the tinted windows of the limousine into a strobe light show, blinding and chaotic.
The car glided to a halt in front of The Pierre Hotel. The driver opened the rear door, and the noise of the Upper East Side-shouting photographers, honking taxis, excited onlookers-rushed in.
Kamden exited first. He buttoned his tuxedo jacket with a single, fluid motion. He didn't look at the cameras. He turned back to the car and extended his hand.
Helena took it. She emerged from the dark interior, and the crowd actually gasped.
She was wearing emerald green. The custom gown clung to her frame, the silk cascading down like liquid money. It was bold, it was regal, and it was armor.
Kamden's fingers tightened around hers. He pulled her close to his side, his body acting as a shield against the flashing lights. They walked the red carpet not as husband and wife, but as a unified front. The Emerson-Griffith alliance. Unbreakable. As they passed a server with a tray of champagne, Helena gave an imperceptible shake of her head, her gaze unwavering.
At the top of the stairs, Jasper Stone was waiting. The designer looked frantic, tugging at the cuffs of his velvet blazer.
"You're late," Jasper hissed, leaning in to air-kiss Helena's cheek.
"Fashionably," Helena replied smoothly.
Jasper didn't smile. He grabbed Kamden's elbow, pulling him a fraction of an inch away from the photographers. "Listen to me. There's a wild card inside."
Kamden frowned. "I don't like surprises, Jasper."
"Neither do I. But the board approved a last-minute platinum donor. He's... distinct. And he's backed by Vincent Capital. They've been making moves so aggressive that even your grandfather is being cautious. The name is Cason Vincent."
Kamden paused. The name bounced around his head, familiar but unplaceable. Like a song he had heard once in a nightmare. "Should I care?"
"You'll see," was all Jasper said.
Helena stepped closer, her arm brushing Kamden's. "We're blocking the entrance, Kamden."
He nodded, shaking off the unease. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the massive double doors.
The ballroom was a sea of diamonds and black ties. The air smelled of expensive perfume and lilies. As Kamden and Helena stepped onto the balcony overlooking the dance floor, the room went strangely quiet.
It started near the bar and rippled outward. Conversations died. Heads turned. People parted ways, creating a wide, unintentional aisle down the center of the room.
At the end of that aisle stood a man.
He was holding a champagne flute. He was wearing a tuxedo that mirrored Kamden's almost exactly. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair swept back from a high forehead.
Kamden stopped walking. His heart slammed against his ribs.
It was like looking into a distorted mirror.
The man turned slowly. His face... it was Kamden's face. But sharper. Crueler. The jawline was the same, the nose the same, but the eyes were different. Where Kamden's were often guarded and tired, this man's eyes were alive with a predatory amusement.
Beside him stood Morgana Vane, a socialite known for her venom. She was smirking, looking between the two men like she had just lit a fuse.
Cason Vincent raised his glass in a mocking toast.
Kamden's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. He felt a cold sweat prickle the back of his neck. It wasn't just a resemblance. It was a violation.
Helena stood frozen beside him. She wasn't looking at Kamden. She was staring at Cason. Her face was perfectly blank, the "Iron Lady" mask fully engaged, but the pulse point in her neck was hammering.
"Who is that?" Kamden asked. His voice sounded calm, but it felt like gravel in his throat.
Jasper stepped up beside them, his voice tight. "That's Cason Vincent. Vincent Capital."
Kamden looked at Helena. He needed her to look at him. He needed her to roll her eyes and dismiss this clown.
But Helena didn't look at him. She kept her eyes locked on Cason, her body rigid.
"Helena?" Kamden prompted.
She finally blinked. She turned to him, but her eyes were opaque. "Ignore him, Kamden. He's just looking for attention."
But as Cason began to walk toward them, cutting through the crowd like a shark through water, Kamden knew it was more than attention. It was a hunt.
