Silas POV
I should've known the invitation would become a problem the second I saw the gold seal on the envelope.
Russo territory.
Meaning Valentina would be there.
Meaning enemies would be there.
Meaning bringing Elena was a terrible idea.
I sat behind my desk staring at the invitation while Max stood silently across from me waiting for instructions.
"You're thinking too hard," he finally said.
"I'm deciding whether I want tonight to end in murder."
"That bad?"
I slid the envelope across the desk.
Max opened it quickly before sighing.
"Oh."
Exactly.
The Russo charity gala wasn't actually a charity gala.
It was a power display.
Every major family would attend. Every alliance would be watched. Every weakness noticed.
And Elena—
Elena had become my weakness without permission.
"She can stay here," Max suggested carefully.
My jaw tightened instantly.
No.
The thought alone irritated me.
Leaving her alone after the club incident wasn't an option anymore.
Someone had drugged her drink once already. Valentina was circling like a vulture. And too many people were suddenly interested in Elena Garcia.
No.
She stayed where I could see her.
Even if that was becoming dangerous for completely different reasons.
"I'm bringing her," I decided coldly.
Max looked like he expected that answer already.
"Should I double security?"
"Triple it."
The dress became another problem entirely.
I shouldn't have involved myself.
I knew that.
But the second someone suggested choosing something "cute" for Elena, I immediately dismissed every stylist in the room and handled it myself.
Because absolutely not.
I stood in front of racks of designer dresses with growing irritation.
Too revealing. Too soft. Too innocent. Too tight.
And somehow every option only made me think about Elena wearing it.
Which was unhelpful.
Very unhelpful.
Then I saw it.
Black silk.
Elegant. Dangerous. Confident.
The slit was too high.
The back was too exposed.
And the image of Elena wearing it nearly ruined my self-control instantly.
I bought it anyway.
Like an idiot.
Later that evening, I waited downstairs while adjusting my cufflinks impatiently.
The penthouse was quiet except for distant footsteps upstairs.
Then—
Elena appeared at the top of the staircase.
And suddenly every thought in my head disappeared.
Jesus Christ.
The dress fit her perfectly.
Soft black silk hugged every curve of her body while the open back exposed smooth skin that immediately made my jaw tighten. Her hair fell over one shoulder in loose waves, and the heels added just enough height to make her legs look endless.
Beautiful.
Dangerously beautiful.
Mine.
The possessive thought came so naturally it almost pissed me off.
Elena stopped halfway down the stairs when she noticed my expression.
"What?"
I realized I had been staring too long.
"You're wearing that."
Her eyebrows lifted immediately. "You bought it."
"That doesn't mean I like it."
A slow smile tugged at her lips.
Oh, she noticed.
She noticed exactly what she was doing to me.
"That sounds like a personal problem."
Her voice was teasing now.
Comfortable.
And somehow that made things worse.
I looked away briefly, forcing control back into myself.
"You'll stay close to me tonight."
"There it is," she sighed dramatically while reaching the bottom step. "The dictatorship."
"It's called protection."
"It's called being controlling."
"You say that like it's an insult."
She rolled her eyes.
But then she stepped closer to adjust my tie slightly, her fingers brushing against my collarbone accidentally.
My entire body went still.
Neither of us spoke.
For one dangerous second, the tension between us thickened into something almost impossible to ignore.
Then Elena stepped back quickly.
And I realized something terrifying.
I wanted to pull her right back.
Elena POV
I hated how nervous I felt standing beside Silas.
It wasn't because of the party.
Or the people.
Or even Valentina.
It was him.
The way he looked tonight should honestly be illegal.
Black suit. Black tie. Dark eyes. Cold expression.
Every woman we passed stared openly at him.
And the worst part?
He didn't even notice.
Or maybe he just didn't care.
Meanwhile I was trying very hard not to think about the fact that his hand had barely left my waist since we entered the car.
Protective.
Possessive.
Warm.
The city lights reflected against the car windows as silence settled between us.
Not awkward silence.
Something heavier.
Something charged.
"You're staring," he said suddenly.
I immediately looked away from his profile. "I literally wasn't."
"You were."
"Wow. So now you're delusional too."
The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
Tiny.
Barely noticeable.
But it was there.
And somehow that felt more dangerous than if he had smiled fully.
"You're nervous," he observed.
"I'm about to spend an evening surrounded by rich criminals. Of course I'm nervous."
"You'll be fine."
Easy for him to say.
People feared him.
People moved when he walked into rooms.
Silas didn't belong in danger.
He was the danger.
The ballroom was breathtaking.
Massive crystal chandeliers hung overhead while music drifted softly through the room. Expensive perfume, champagne glasses, diamonds, designer suits—
Everything looked elegant.
But underneath it all, tension lingered.
I could feel it immediately.
People smiled too carefully here.
Laughed too softly.
Watched too closely.
And the second Silas entered beside me—
The room noticed.
Conversations shifted. Eyes followed us. Whispers spread quietly.
My stomach tightened instantly.
Silas's hand pressed lightly against my lower back.
Grounding me.
"Breathe," he murmured quietly near my ear.
Unfortunately the closeness of his voice only made breathing harder.
People approached us almost immediately.
"Thorn."
"Good evening."
"Been a while."
Everyone spoke to Silas with careful respect.
Some feared him openly.
Others tried hiding it.
But every single person watched me curiously afterward.
Like they were trying to figure out who I was to him.
Honestly? So was I.
An older woman with sharp red lips smiled politely at me.
"You're Elena."
Not a question.
"Yes."
Her gaze drifted slowly over my dress before returning to my face.
"You're prettier than the rumors suggested."
I blinked.
"Thank you… I think?"
Silas's thumb brushed slowly against my waist once.
A warning.
To her or me— I honestly wasn't sure.
Another man approached us moments later.
Young. Attractive. Too confident.
His eyes lingered on my legs far too long before he smiled.
"Thorn," he greeted casually. "You've been hiding this one."
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Silas didn't move.
Didn't blink.
But the air around him suddenly felt colder.
"She's not something to discuss," he said calmly.
The man laughed awkwardly before excusing himself almost immediately.
I stared at Silas once he left.
"That was slightly terrifying."
"He was staring."
"And?"
"And I didn't like it."
My heartbeat betrayed me completely.
Stupid heart.