The Heiress He Underestimated novel Chapter 68

Chapter 68 Beautiful, Dangerous And His (2)

The moment stretched between them, tight and electric. Then he seemed to shake himself, blinking like he was coming out of a trance. “We should go,” he said, his voice still rough. “Before I forget we have places to be.”

The car ride was quiet. They sat close together in the back seat, his hand resting over hers the whole way. Frost was up front in the lead car, his voice a constant low murmur through the comms as he checked routes and security.

The Grand Celeste Hotel was exactly the kind of place Elera had spent her whole life pretending to belong in. All gold and marble and crystal chandeliers that probably cost more than most people’s houses. But their car didn’t pull up to the main entrance where all the photographers and guests were. It slid past all that circus and down a side street to a delivery entrance.

A private elevator was waiting for them, all polished brass and quiet efficiency. This was the plan. Ghost in, make an appearance, ghost out. No red carpet. No photo ops or chances for Xan to set up an ambush.

The elevator opened onto a hallway that led straight to the Imperial Ballroom. Elera could hear the party before she could see it. String music and the sound of a hundred people all talking at once, that particular noise that rich people make when they’re being cultured and sophisticated.

Frost and two of his guys, all dressed in tuxedos that somehow didn’t hide the fact that they were dangerous, melted into the background like they’d been doing this their whole lives.

Drakonius looked down at her. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They walked through the doors together.

“Irrelevant,” she said coldly.

They moved deeper into the room, heading for a quiet corner where they could get their hearings. People parted in front of them like water around a rock. Nobody tried to stop them. Nobody dared.

They’d almost made it to the bar when two women stepped into their path. Not blocking them exactly, but definitely not moving. Elera recognized the type immediately. Rich wives. Old money. The type of women who spent their lives judging everyone around them and finding them lacking.

The first one was tall and thin, all sharp angles and expensive jewelry. The second was shorter, with a face that had been pulled too tight by plastic surgery. They both had that look in their eyes. That let’s see what we’re dealing with look.

“Drakonius,” the tall one said, and her voice was all fake warmth. “What a surprise to see you out and about. We’d heard you were… indisposed.”