But on the inside, it feels like my stomach is a black hole, crumpling my insides like a wadded-up piece of paper.

On several occasions throughout the hour, Zade wraps his arm around my waist and squeezes, his grip firm and reassuring. Those small touches are anchors, leveling my head and reminding me that I’m not alone.

Mark seems to appear out of thin air, joining the two couples gathered around Zade, listening to him speak about some interaction he had with another senator. I guess the story is supposed to be funny as the couples are both tittering out laughs, but I can barely digest a single word he says.

“Zack! Adeline! I’m so glad to see you two made it,” Mark announces boisterously, interrupting Zade’s story. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered. I have a feeling the tale was fabricated entirely anyway.

Seems I’m not the only one good at bullshitting.

“Mark,” I croon joyfully, as if this man’s face brings me any type of delight. He eats it up as he shakes hands with Zade and offers me a warm hug.

Or what’s supposed to be warm. It feels like hugging a cold-blooded reptile.

Next to Mark must be his wife. An older woman with beautiful red hair—the color of ripe cherries—matching red lipstick, and a black dress that seems to hang on her frail body.

She widens her lips into a beautiful smile as Mark introduces her to Zade and I. What irks me is he doesn’t tell us her name, he just says my wife. As if she’s merely a possession and not her own person with her own fucking identity outside of her marriage to this wretched man.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Adeline. I’m Claire,” she says, gripping my hand in a light handshake. She offers the introduction to Zade as well, and the devil takes it a step further and kisses her hand, trapping her gaze into his own.

It wasn’t sensual by any means. Something about it seemed comforting, like he was making her a promise that even she didn’t know she needed.

Claire’s smile wobbles and she gently pulls her hand from Zade’s grip. No one except my shadow and I seem to notice her hand curling into a tight fist to abate the shaking.

She’s nervous. Scared. And whatever that moment was with Zade, it shook her.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out this woman is abused. My eyes subtly search her body, but the high neck, long sleeves, and full-length dress hide her body. It’s a beautiful dress, but one clearly designed to disguise the bruises that I’m sure are staining her skin beneath the silky fabric.

The other couples meanders off, sensing that Mark is now expecting a private conversation.

“I have a few more guests to greet, but please, I insist you meet me in my study in about an hour and join me for a drink. My butler, Marion, would be happy to show you the way when the time comes.”

Zade smiles, appearing relaxed. Maybe it’s because I've become acquainted with the monster settled between his bones, but I can feel the intent beneath his fabricated ease.

“Of course, be happy to,” Zade responds smoothly.

“Great!” Mark bursts, smiling wide. “And Adeline, I look forward to speaking with you about your great-grandmother.”

He smiles one last time, casting me a lingering look before walking off with Claire in tow.

Zade wasn’t wrong. The man is definitely exploiting the one weakness I have, solving Gigi’s murder. And something tells me he’s going to hang information over my head until he gets whatever he wants.

Problem is, I don’t know what he wants from me. But whatever it is, I have a feeling deep in my bones that it’s capable of ending my life.

Chapter 25

The Shadow

I f I spend another moment in this stuffy ballroom, I’m going to start shooting people just to release some tension. There are plenty of heads in this room that I wouldn’t mind embedding with a bullet.

Addie stands beside me, her tiny hand gripping onto my arm like her life depends on it.

It’s fucking addictive.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper in her ear. Her sweet jasmine smell wafts from the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and I have to grind my teeth against the urge to take a bite.

Flashes of her on her knees, that red rose in her hair as she sucked me off with a belt around that dainty neck… fuck.

A growl slips free, and it takes monumental effort to bite back the satisfied grin when I feel her tremble.

Her reaction is more potent than a drug. It drives me deliriously insane, and the need to wrap my hand around her throat and fuck her until neither of us can breathe is overwhelming.

This woman is going to reduce me to an animal.

Her head snaps towards mine, her brows scrunching in confusion and what almost looks like anger. She probably thinks I mean to leave this place entirely and deny her the chance to get information on her great-grandmother.

“Calm, sweet little mouse. I just meant this room.”

She relaxes, her shoulders dropping an inch.

It goes without saying that all guests are expected to stay inside the ballroom. But if staying on the safe side of rules and laws was something I did, I wouldn’t be where I am now.

In a senator’s house with a girl who’s not supposed to want me.

I grab her hand, basking in the feel of her skin against mine as I guide her out of the room. I wait until it seems all eyes have turned away from us and slip through the door and out into a grand hallway.

Now would be a perfect time to search the house, see what I can discover in a pedophile’s safe space. But selfishly, I want to ease some of the building tension swelling in Addie's shoulders.

She’s doing fucking amazing so far. Despite the obvious nerves, she’s managed to make every single person in the room fall in love with her. If anything, her shy, innocent demeanor and suave words are these people’s daily dose of whatever prescription pills keep them sane.

I’m equal parts impressed and perturbed by her. Because all this woman has managed to do is make these people want to see her again. And that’s the last thing both of us want.

I slide out my phone and shoot off a quick message to Jay, asking him to take care of the security cameras. I’ve spotted dozens just from the entrance to the ballroom, and I’m sure Mark has a team actively watching to make sure no one does exactly what we’re doing now.

Mark would be alerted immediately and we would be caught before we even got a chance to have fun.

Jay confirms the cameras are set, and Addie and I take off. Her heels click against the tiled floor as we sneak through the maze of hallways and rooms.

Occasionally, I open up doors and peek inside, finding nothing of interest. That is until we get somewhere far enough away that the noise from the ballroom no longer penetrates the walls.

At the end of another hallway are wide double doors, the cherry wood standing out against the champagne walls.

I head towards the doors, Addie barely keeping up behind me. “Zade, we shouldn’t be sneaking around. We’re going to get in trouble,” she pleads, glancing behind her as if someone is hot on her heels. It’s the fifth time she’s said that since we left the ballroom, yet her eyes are dilated with excitement.

She’s not fooling me when she wears her arousal on her sleeve. She’s scared. Nervous. And that feeling never fails to make her pussy dripping wet.

The girl gets off on fear. The moment I realized she was turned on by the terror I instill in her—there was no chance of me ever letting her go. She was fucking made for me.

“Shh, baby girl,” I whisper, silencing her weak protests. Her mouth audibly clicks shut, and this time I don’t bother restraining the smile.