Stephan arrived at the exclusive gathering of the underworld’s most powerful figures with Catherine on his arm this time.
She was a vision in deep sapphire, her dress hugging her curves, grip possessive as they moved through the room. Her posture was flawless, her smile calculated—tonight, she was playing her role as perfectly as always.
But none of it mattered the second she walked in.
Celeste stepped through the grand entrance like she owned this entire place.
The slick silver dress clung to her like liquid metal, the back cut so low it left nothing to the imagination and her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders in effortless waves.
Every step she took was deliberate, her presence commanding, impossible to ignore.
Heads turned, men whispered. Some with admiration. Others with fear.
Stephan himself felt something dark coil inside him at that moment.
He had seen her beautiful before. Had held her in his silk sheets, had kissed every inch of her bare skin. Had a taste of every part of her flesh and soul.
But this? This wasn’t the soft woman he had known. This was the hidden heir, the viper in the room.
And every damn man here wanted her.
His jaw clenched. He wasn’t the only one who noticed.
Catherine had gone still beside him, her grip tightening just enough to bruise.
“She’s putting on a show, how cute,” Catherine murmured, her voice cool but edged with poison.
Stephan didn’t respond. He was too busy watching every Celeste’s move while she effortlessly slipped into conversations with high-ranking mafia leaders not so far away.
Catherine wasn’t convinced. She followed his gaze toward Celeste and stiffened slightly, eyes narrowing.
She saw this look on his face. And she didn’t like it.
Shifting her stance, Cathrine pressed herself against Stephan’s side. Her lips brushed the sharp line of his jaw, deliberately slow, deliberately visible.
“Can’t stop thinking about our last night,” she purred, just loud enough for Celeste to hear. “I thought I won’t be able to even walk tonight.”
Stephan barely reacted. But he saw the way Catherine’s words were meant to cut, meant to provoke.
Celeste on that little show just gave a short smirk.
And that made Catherine hate her even more.
A waiter passed with a tray of expensive whiskey. Stephan took a glass but barely tasted it. His eyes were still on Celeste.
He wasn’t thinking. Or maybe he was thinking too much.
“Catherine,” he said smoothly, before he could stop the words coming out of his mouth, “go greet Jeferson. Make sure he knows our alliance remains strong.”
Catherine hesitated. She obviously didn’t want to leave, but also couldn’t refuse without looking weak either.
So she simply nodded, pressing one last kiss to his cheek before walking away.
The seconds she was gone, Stephan moved.
Straight to Celeste.
She saw him coming but didn’t look surprised. He stopped in front of her, holding out a hand. His voice was quiet but firm.
“Dance with me.”
For a moment, she considered refusing. Wanting to slap his stupid face, to order her men to beat the shit out of him or whatever.
But then she saw the glint in his eyes—that look, the one that meant he wanted to win.
Even though she wasn’t sure yet—what exactly the prize would be.
So she gave him nothing: no hesitation, no flustered reaction.
Celeste simply placed her hand in his and the orchestra played something slow yet intense as they moved onto the dance floor with other couples.
They were too close. Too tense.
Stephan’s grip was firm, his body radiating heat. Celeste tilted her head, studying him with amusement.
“Admit it, you’re enjoying this,” he murmured, his voice low and breath warm against her skin. “Making me chase you.”
She smirked, almost unbothered.
“Am I?” Her lips almost brushed the skin on his neck. “Or is it that you’ve just still never had to chase anyone but me?”
“Careful, Celeste.” His grip on her waist significantly tightened. “You have no idea what you’re actually playing with.”
She leaned in even closer, her voice a hot whisper against his throat. “Then let’s see if you can keep up.”
The tension between them crackled, dark and intoxicating. And then—
“Stephan.” Catherine’s voice was smooth, but the steel beneath it was impossible to miss.
She slid an arm around Stephan’s waist, her fingers curling possessively against his stomach, pulling him back.
Celeste pulled away from him just slightly, her expression unreadable—except for the sharp, knowing amusement in her eyes.
“Looks like your leash is here,” she murmured, her smirk like a blade.
And then she was gone, slipping into the crowd without a second glance.
Stephan exhaled harshly, his hands still clenched from where they had been gripping her waist.
Catherine, watching him closely, didn’t miss a thing. She grabbed him sharply by the arm and pulled him toward the exit of the hall.
When they were finally in a remote corridor with no other guests, she turned slowly, her expression unreadable, but eyes were sharp.
“You’re staring at her,” she said harshly. “All. Fucking. Time.”
Stephan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Catherine, don’t—”
“Like you’re some starving filthy beast,” she continued, stepping closer, her voice like silk over steel. “Maybe you really hate her.” She tilted her head, studying him. “Or maybe it’s something even worse.”
Stephan said nothing.
Catherine exhaled sharply, shaking her head. Then she grabbed him by the collar.
She kissed him hard and deep, her mouth demanding, her nails digging into his skin on the neck.
Stephan responded automatically, pushing her against the closest wall, kissing her back with the same force, the same heat and desire—
Trying to prove something. To whom exactly, he wasn’t sure.
By the time they broke apart, Catherine’s lips were swollen, her breathing heavy and gaze was triumphant.
“See?” she whispered against his lips. “You want me.”
Stephan didn’t reply and just kissed her again.
At this point, he didn’t feel anything at all.