ured months of her life into, and the space was a swirl of elegance and refinement. Spotlights illuminated the priceless paintings and sculptures, while the soft hum of conversation and clinkin

nerve anyone. But tonight, her unease was different. There was a presence in the room, something heavy and unseen, like a shadow lurking just out

d to shake off her paranoia. She was in her element here, surrounded by beauty and intellect, far removed from th

of the gallery, near a display of 19th-ce

ere was a deliberate carelessness to it, as though he didn't care to try too hard. His sharp jawline and piercing eyes drew the attention of anyone who glanced his

e of her guests. It was not their first encounter. She had met him weeks ago, during one of her late nights in the gallery, but she had not expec

liberate smile spread across his lips, and Bianca felt a chill run down her spine. There was somet

and rich as he closed the distance between them.

ned at the sound of her name on his lips. "Mr. Vorobev" she s

s remained sharp, calculating. "

nd what she found only confirmed her suspicions. Bian was no ordinary collector. He was the son of one of the most powerful drug kingpins in the country, a man whose empire stretched across borders and whose

played," she said, keeping her tone professional. "Y

to squirm. "Very pleased," he said, his voice dropping just enough to make the w

recovered, her expression neutral. "I am

ue that tonight about power. Influence. Connections. And from

but she refused to let him rattle h

so only she could hear. "You do much more than that, Ms. Petit. You command attention without trying

d so hard to leave behind. Her father's legacy, the bloodstained empire she had escaped, was something she never spoke

s dressed in a less ostentatious suit, his sandy blond hair neatly combed. His expression was calm, but his green eyes were sharp, assessing. She recogni

aid, his tone polite bu

ed, surprised by his presence. "I

gaze flickering briefly to Maksimillian before

o slightly, his presence becoming even more imposing. "Not at all,

live wire. It was subtle, unspoken, but unmistakable. The DEA agent and the heir to a c

ening as he turned his attention bac

emed to shrink around her, the air thick with something s

imillian remained where they had left him, his eyes following her with an intensity that made her skin prickle.