Algot caught Gianna before she hit the floor. Her body was completely limp against his chest.

He stared down at her face. Her dark lashes rested against her pale cheeks. The red dress slipped slightly off her shoulder, revealing the smooth skin of her collarbone.

He pulled his phone from his pocket with his free hand and hit a speed dial number.

"Alex," Algot said, his voice completely steady, betraying none of the chaos inside him. "Come to the second-floor east corridor. Now."

Within thirty seconds, Alex appeared at the top of the stairs. He stopped short when he saw Algot holding an unconscious woman.

"Take her out through the service elevator," Algot ordered. He carefully handed Gianna over to Alex. "Take her back to her apartment. Make sure no one sees you. Do not leave any trace."

Alex adjusted his grip on Gianna, supporting her weight. "Yes, sir. And then?"

"Find out exactly who gave her the ticket to this event," Algot said. His eyes narrowed. "I want to know every move she has made in the last forty-eight hours."

Alex nodded and carried Gianna quickly down the hall.

Algot stood alone in the quiet corridor. He looked down at his hands. The lingering warmth of her skin was still there. For the first time in his life, the first day of the month had not ended in crippling, blinding agony.

Because of her.

He turned and walked back into the shadows.

Gianna woke up with a sharp gasp.

She sat up so fast the room spun. She grabbed her head, wincing at the dull, throbbing ache at the base of her skull.

She looked around. She was in her own bedroom. The morning sun was streaming through the cheap blinds.

She looked down at herself. She was still wearing the red dress from the banquet. It was wrinkled and twisted around her legs.

Memory flooded back. The balcony. The glowing red eyes. The terrifying pain radiating from the man. His hand covering her eyes. The sudden darkness.

Gianna scrambled off the bed and ran into her small bathroom. She flicked on the harsh overhead light and stared at herself in the mirror.

Her makeup was smudged under her eyes. She reached up and unzipped the side of her dress, letting it fall to her waist.

She pulled down the collar of her dress, exposing her neck and collarbone. She turned slightly to look closer in the mirror. There, stark against the pale skin of her throat, were five distinct, dark purple bruises. They were the exact shape of a large hand gripping her tightly.

Gianna traced the bruises with trembling fingers. The skin was tender to the touch.

It was not a dream. He had grabbed her. He had knocked her out.

But more importantly, she remembered the way his body had instantly relaxed the second she touched his chest. She remembered the way he had breathed her in, like she was oxygen and he had been drowning.

She was doing something to him. She was fixing him.

Gianna walked back into her bedroom and picked up her phone from the nightstand. She opened her messages and texted Brenna.

"How did I get home last night?"

Brenna replied a minute later. "The hotel staff called me. They said you fainted near the exit. They put you in a cab. Are you okay?"

Gianna stared at the text. A lie. Algot had covered his tracks perfectly. He was powerful, and he was hiding something massive.

She walked over to her small desk. She unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out the crisp white business card she had found slipped into her plastic belongings bag at the hospital.

There was no name on it. Just a phone number printed in sleek black ink.

Gianna ran her thumb over the raised numbers.

Desi wanted to sell her to a dying Vaughn. But the man she had met, the man whose pain she could take away, was clearly someone important. He was dangerous, but right now, he was the only weapon she had.

She was not going to run from him. She was going to use him.

Gianna looked back at the mirror. She saw the bruises on her skin. She saw the fierce, burning determination in her own eyes.

"You need me," Gianna whispered to the empty room. "And I am going to make you pay for it."

The restaurant was dimly lit, smelling of expensive truffles and aged wine.

Gianna stood near the hostess stand, her eyes scanning the room. She was wearing a silk blouse, unbuttoned just enough at the collar, and tight black trousers.

She spotted him immediately.

Algot Vaughn IV sat alone at a corner booth. The shadows seemed to cling to him. He was reading a file, a glass of amber liquid untouched next to his hand.

Gianna's heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, heavy rhythm. She forced her breathing to slow down. She squared her shoulders and walked straight toward his table.

She did not ask for permission. She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.

Algot slowly lowered the file. His dark eyes locked onto her face. He did not look surprised. He looked completely, terrifyingly calm.

"Hello again, mystery man," Gianna said. Her voice was steady, laced with a deliberate, slow drawl.

Algot did not speak. He just stared at her, waiting.

Gianna leaned forward. She reached up to the collar of her silk blouse. With a slow, deliberate motion, she unbuttoned the top two buttons and pulled the fabric aside, exposing the skin of her neck and collarbone. The dark purple bruises stood out starkly against her pale skin.

Algot's eyes dropped to her throat. The muscle in his jaw jumped.

Gianna reached across the table. She grabbed his large, warm hand. He stiffened, but he did not pull away. She dragged his hand across the table and pressed his palm flat against the bruises on her skin.

The heat of his hand seeped into her flesh. She felt a slight tremor in his fingers.

"You are playing with fire," Algot said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in her chest.

Gianna leaned closer. Her face was inches from his.

"Maybe I like the fire," Gianna whispered.

Algot's eyes darkened. He looked at her mouth, then back up to her eyes. His fingers flexed against the bruises on her throat—the marks he had left—pressing slightly into her skin.

"You are playing with fire," Algot said. His voice was a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated in her chest.

Gianna kept his hand pressed to her neck, refusing to let him pull away.

"What do you want?" Algot asked coldly. "Money?"

Gianna shook her head slowly. She held his hand in place against her throat.

"I want you," Gianna said. The words hung in the air between them, heavy and direct.

Algot stared at her. For a split second, pure shock flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by a burning, intense heat.

"You are the first man who has ever made me feel... interested," Gianna lied smoothly, pouring honey into her voice.

Algot abruptly pulled his hand away from her neck. He stood up. His massive frame towered over the table.

"You have no idea what you are talking about," Algot said. His voice was tight, strained with the effort of holding himself back.

Gianna stood up too. She stepped around the table, blocking his path.

"I know exactly what I am talking about," Gianna said, looking up into his eyes. "I know you feel it too. You react to me."

Algot looked down at her. His chest rose and fell rapidly. He remembered the way her touch had erased his pain - twice now. But he also knew his curse. He knew he would only destroy her.

He stepped around her, his arm brushing against hers, and walked quickly toward the exit.

Gianna did not follow him. She turned and watched his broad back disappear through the doors. A slow, triumphant smile spread across her lips.

He was running. That meant he was losing control.

"Gianna! Who are you trying to seduce now?"

The shrill, grating voice shattered the moment.

Gianna turned around. Kayden was standing a few feet away, her face twisted in an ugly sneer. Asa Hogan stood behind her, looking uncomfortable.

Gianna's smile vanished. The real war was just beginning.

Kayden marched up to Gianna, her heels clicking aggressively against the hardwood floor of the restaurant.

"You have no shame," Kayden hissed, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of the nearby tables. "You are just a cheap actress throwing yourself at any man with a nice suit."

Gianna looked at Kayden with absolute disgust. Her stomach tightened, not with fear, but with pure, cold anger.

"At least I am throwing myself at a real man," Gianna said, her voice deadly quiet. "Not someone else's fiancé."

Kayden's face drained of color. Asa stepped forward, his jaw tight.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Kayden shrieked, her voice pitching higher. "Asa loves me!"

Gianna let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Does he? Then why is his mother still setting him up on blind dates at the country club?"

Asa's face flushed red. He grabbed Kayden's arm. "Kayden, lower your voice. People are staring."

Kayden yanked her arm away from Asa. She was shaking with rage. She pointed a manicured finger right in Gianna's face.

"You are a whore," Kayden spat. "Do not think hooking up with some old man is going to save you from marrying the Vaughn freak."

Gianna's eyes went completely dead.

She moved faster than Kayden could blink. Gianna's hand shot out and clamped around Kayden's extended wrist. She twisted it sharply downward and squeezed.

Kayden let out a loud, sharp cry of pain. Her knees buckled slightly as Gianna applied pressure to the exact nerve cluster she had learned to target in her self-defense classes.

"Let go of her!" Asa yelled, stepping forward.

Gianna shot Asa a look so venomous he froze in his tracks.

Gianna leaned in close to Kayden's ear.

"Call me a whore one more time," Gianna whispered, her grip tightening until the bones in Kayden's wrist ground together. "And I will break this arm in three different places right here in front of everyone."

Kayden whimpered, tears springing to her eyes. She shook her head frantically.

Gianna shoved Kayden backward. Kayden stumbled and fell against Asa's chest, cradling her red, throbbing wrist.

"You are nothing but a discarded piece of trash," Kayden sobbed, hiding behind Asa. "Nobody wants you!"

Gianna smoothed the front of her silk blouse. She looked at Kayden with cold pity.

"I know exactly what I am worth," Gianna said clearly. "Unlike you, who has to beg a man for a ring just to feel relevant."

Gianna turned on her heel and walked toward the exit. She did not look back.

As she pushed through the heavy glass doors into the cool night air, a man stepped out of the shadows.

It was Alex Stone.

Gianna stopped, her muscles instantly tensing.

Alex, who had clearly just received a swift instruction from his boss as Algot exited moments prior, quickly adjusted his posture. Alex reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. He held it out to her.

"Mr. Vaughn would like you to have this," Alex said respectfully.

Gianna stared at the envelope. Her heart gave a hard thump against her ribs. She reached out and took it. The paper was heavy and expensive.

Alex gave a brief nod and walked away, disappearing into the night.

Gianna ripped the envelope open. Inside was a single, thick business card. It had a different phone number on it, and a handwritten note on the back.

Stop playing games. Call me.

Gianna stared at the bold, sharp handwriting. A thrill of victory shot through her veins.

She slipped the card into her purse. She pulled out her phone and dialed Brenna's number as she walked down the street.

"Hey," Gianna said when Brenna answered. "I need you to tell me everything you know about Kayden's cousin, Jett Ball."

"Jett?" Brenna asked, sounding confused. "He is a total playboy. Hangs out at The Velvet Room. Why?"

"Because," Gianna said, a cold smile touching her lips. "I am going to use him to blow Kayden's life wide open."