The ballroom shimmered with gold and crystal, laughter blooming in every corner like roses hiding their thorns. But none of it touched you.

You stood leaning against the wall, untouched by the light, draped in a dark red satin gown that clung to you like a secret. The bodice hugged your form, framed by a delicate lace overlay that hinted more than it concealed. Long lace gloves ran up your arms, elegant and ruthless, like something torn from a noir film where the heroine always knows too much.

The stem of the wine glass was cold between your fingers. The blood-red liquid inside matched your lips, your intent, your thoughts.

And your gaze? It burned.

He was there—your ex—across the room, smiling like he hadn't shattered you just months ago. His hand was low on the small of her back, too familiar, too practiced. You watched him lean in, lips brushing her temple, and he smiled like happiness was easy, like you never happened.

A twisted kind of silence bloomed in your chest.

You didn’t look away.

“Do you think you'd kill my ex today?” you asked quietly, your voice velvety but soaked in venom.

Next to you, Kairo tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a slow smile. He didn’t even need to ask who you meant. His eyes dropped to yours, golden and unreadable, and something about the way he looked at you made your spine straighten and your stomach twist.

“Yes, of course I will, darling,” he said, his tone smooth—like murder was just a favor he’d been waiting to grant.

He raised his glass, drank the last of the wine, then bent down so close you felt his breath ghost over your skin.

“But only if you promise to kiss me,” he murmured against your ear. His voice dropped lower, almost teasing. “It isn’t just a kiss, though.”

Your breath caught.

Before your lips could part with an answer, he pulled away. Without a glance back, he handed his empty glass to a passing waitress and disappeared into the sea of silk, suits, and champagne.

Your heartbeat thrummed louder in your ears than the jazz floating from the grand piano across the floor.

You watched him move through the crowd, a shadow wrapped in elegance, danger wrapped in silk. He made his way toward them—toward him—with the kind of confidence that made people step aside without realizing why.

You could still feel his whisper against your neck. It isn’t just a kiss…

And you knew exactly what he meant. Your cheeks flushed, but not with innocence.

You wanted him to burn everything.

And you wanted him to kiss you after.