Chapter 9 - The Charity Gala
Cassian Thorne did not hide when threatened; he walked out into the light.
That evening, the annual Manhattan Elite Charity Gala was being held at a luxury hotel downtown. Cassian insisted on attending to maintain appearances. To Silas, it would look like business as usual.
"You need to stay close to me," Cassian told Elara as they stood in the penthouse foyer.
Elara looked down at herself. Cassian’s stylist had provided an emerald-green silk gown that clung to her curves, paired with diamond teardrop earrings. She looked like old money, far removed from the bruised girl in the sleet.
"I feel like a target," Elara admitted.
Cassian reached out, his warm fingers gently tracing the faint edge of the bruise still fading on her temple. The touch was unexpectedly tender, sending a jolt of electricity down her spine. "I will burn this city to ash before I let Silas touch you again," he vowed softly.
They arrived at the gala in a convoy of armored SUVs. The ballroom was a sea of glittering chandeliers, champagne towers, and New York's wealthiest elite.
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But as Cassian scanned the room, his hand resting firmly on the small of Elara’s back, he noticed something chilling. His usual security detail at the exits had been swapped. The men guarding the doors were wearing earpieces, but they didn't have the Thorne syndicate pin on their lapels.
They were Silas’s men.
