Liora's POV

I braced myself against the edge of the sink, staring at the restroom door as it continued to sway on its hinges.

Kade had fled fast. His suit had been soaked, his hair in disarray-nothing like the perpetually arrogant man I remembered.

The door banged against the frame and swung back with a dull thud.

I closed my eyes and pressed my trembling palms against the cold marble countertop, forcing myself to breathe. The nausea twisting in my stomach hadn't faded. My skin still seemed to remember where he had touched me. I scrubbed at my arm hard, as if I could erase the feeling.

If Rowan hadn't shown up. what would he have done?

The thought alone made my stomach churn. I almost wished I had killed him when I had the chance.

That bastard.

"You're ruthless."

The lazy voice drifted from across the room. I opened my eyes.

Rowan leaned against the opposite sink, arms folded across his chest, one brow arched, that familiar crooked smile tugging at his lips.

"The poor idiot looked like he was about to piss himself. You're scarier than I am."

I lowered my hand and straightened my spine. "What are you doing here?"

Right now, I had no desire to talk about Kade.

He tilted his head, his smile deepening, but didn't answer. Instead, he pushed off the counter and walked toward me-unhurried, confident, as if he knew I had nowhere to go.

Instinctively, I stepped back until my lower back hit the edge of the sink. The chill of marble told me the truth.

I was trapped.

He was too close. Close enough that I could catch his scent. Close enough to drag me straight back to that night.

Heat rushed to my cheeks.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Blushing already?"

I pressed my lips together and forced myself to look up at him. His gaze was lowered, heavy and intent, studying me like he wanted to carve the moment into memory.

"What do you want?"

He lifted a hand and brushed a loose curl from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. His fingers grazed the shell of my ear, sending a subtle shiver through me.

"I want your thanks. I did save you."

I took a steady breath. "Fine. What do you want? Money?"

He shook his head. The way he leaned closer silenced me completely.

"Money means nothing." His eyes darkened. "I want something more valuable."

"Your kiss."

I jerked my head to the side. "No."

Of course, he didn't listen. He lowered his face slowly, deliberately, giving me plenty of time to stop him.

and I did.

My palm came up between us, pressing flat against his chest. It was solid, warm, unyielding. He didn't step back. Instead, he shifted slightly, a wicked curve tugging at his mouth.

His lips descended, not to my mouth, but to my collarbone.

A sharp breath caught in my throat.

Right where he had marked me that night, he pressed a lingering kiss, then grazed the same spot with his teeth.

The sensation was intense enough that I couldn't fully suppress it. A faint, traitorous sound slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

Rowan pulled back, satisfaction glinting in his eyes, his mouth flushed and damp.

I swallowed hard, fighting the reckless urge to grab him and kiss him properly. In the dim light, his eyes seemed brighter than ever.

"You like it," he teased.

I wanted to deny it. I really did.

But the question that burst from me wasn't the one I'd planned.

"Why did you mark me?"

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But it was too late.

"Impulse," he said lightly.

Impulse.

I parted my lips, a hundred questions crowding my throat.

What did that mean? Did he act on impulse with every woman? What about now?

But I didn't ask.

Something hollow opened in my chest, and I couldn't name the feeling.

Before I could steady myself, he leaned down again, intending to kiss me.

I stepped away sharply.

"You're just trying to provoke Kade. You only wanted to ruin whatever he was planning. To you, I'm nothing but a tool. Right?"

Rowan stopped. He didn't argue. Didn't deny it. He only shrugged, almost as if he agreed.

"Does it matter?" he said casually. "I like your kisses. You like mine. Isn't that enough?"

I stared at him-at that infuriatingly indifferent expression, at those unreadable eyes.

Damn him.

Damn all men.

I wanted to slap him. To wipe that careless look off his face. But more than that, I wanted to run, from the heat coiling in my stomach, from the foolish flutter in my chest, from this chaotic tangle of emotions I couldn't sort out.

"Get out," I said coldly.

I shoved past him and headed for the door.

My steps were quick. Too quick.

Like I was fleeing.

He didn't call after me.

Cool air from the hallway rushed over me as I stepped out of the restroom. I didn't look back.

The corridor to the private room felt strangely short.

By the time I entered, I had forced a smile onto my face-thin and hollow.

Raya was holding a wineglass, eyes sparkling, words spilling out of her mouth.

"There you are!" she called cheerfully. "Touch-up or murder plot? You were gone forever."

"Long line," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.

She didn't believe me. Her smile turned sly. "You missed the best part-guess what I did?"

I blinked, grateful for the change of topic. "No idea. Ordered three more bottles?" I arched a brow. That would've been very on brand for her.

"Please, I'm not that predictable." She practically bounced in her seat, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. "I submitted one of your old pieces-the garnet and obsidian necklace, remember? I sent it to the Carla Showcase under your pen name, 'Nine.'"

My stomach dropped.

"Raya."

"It won, babe. First place. 'Number Nine' just stepped into the spotlight!" She let out an excited squeal at my stunned expression.

I gripped the edge of the tablecloth, fingers curling tightly. "You crossed into my work without asking," I said quietly.

"Yes, because you would've said no. But look what happened!" She thrust her phone toward me. On the screen was an email-clean logo, bold serif font declaring: Congratulations.

I stared at it.

"Major jewelers are already reaching out," she said, almost trembling with excitement. "You're about to blow up."

"That's. amazing," I managed. "It really is."

But my voice sounded distant to my own ears, as if I were still trapped in that dim restroom, caught in the aftermath of Rowan's touch.

"You don't sound excited," Raya pointed out with a frown.

"I'm just. processing."

"I know it's overwhelming. Now that so many people want to work with you, we have to celebrate." She grinned brightly.

I nodded.

It was incredible news. Truly.

If Kade hadn't tried to assault me. if Rowan hadn't stirred up feelings I didn't want to face. I might have been happier.

Liora's POV

The next morning, my phone had started ringing before I even rolled out of bed.

Unknown number. I let it go to voicemail.

Then another call-from a different area code. Then the emails began pouring in. By noon, my inbox looked like the floor of an auction house in the middle of a bidding war.

Jewelry dynasties I wouldn't have dared mention even in my wildest daydreams were begging to collaborate with "Nine."

Nine. Not me.

They didn't know that Number Nine wore my face. They didn't know that Number Nine was me-Liora.

I ignored every single message.

Even the invitation from the Selena family corporation-the platinum empire her father ruled like a monarch.

If she ever found out, she'd probably have a stroke.

---

Two days later, I stood alone at the base of the grand staircase in the ballroom.

Grandfather was supposed to escort me in, but he'd come down with a sudden cold and was confined to bed. So I attended alone.

The most powerful wolves in the territory had gathered tonight, dressed in couture and diamonds, their laughter carrying that subtle, oppressive edge that only true authority possesses.

I held a glass of champagne and positioned myself beside two socialites-not randomly, of course. They seemed quite interested in my presence.

"I heard Alpha Quinn's mysterious heir is attending tonight," one of them whispered-loud enough that it wasn't really a whisper.

"Oh, please," the other scoffed. "She's probably a fabrication. No one's ever seen her. Who knows if she even exists? Maybe Quinn just made her up to stall the succession issue."

"Good point."

I stood less than three steps away, taking a slow sip, pressing down the smile threatening to curl my lips.

If they knew the subject of their conversation was standing right beside them, wineglass in hand, watching them.

The thought alone was amusing.

But they would never know. Even when their eyes skimmed past me, they did so the way one might glance at an unremarkable piece of furniture.

Exactly how I preferred it.

I was about to move-perhaps to refresh my champagne-when a shift at the entrance made me pause.

It wasn't a sound.

It was the air. A subtle change in pressure. The instinctive tightening you feel before danger steps into the room.

I followed that invisible pull and looked up.

Selene and Kade.

They entered with a kind of rehearsed synchronicity. Or rather-Selene did.

She looped her arm through Kade's, her pace measured. Her gaze swept across the ballroom before her steps did, like a ruler inspecting her domain.

Then her eyes stopped.

On me.

For a single second, her flawless smile froze-undisguised.

She tilted her head and murmured something into Kade's ear. I watched him follow her line of sight. His brow tightened slightly. He muttered something back and subtly lifted a hand as if to stop her.

It seemed my previous warning had left some impression.

But Kade still didn't understand Selene.

Trying to restrain her would only make her approach faster.

As expected, she paused for no more than a heartbeat before shrugging off his hand and walking straight toward me.

The surrounding guests sensed it immediately. Conversations dipped. The crowd instinctively parted, creating a clear path for her.

No one spoke.

But everyone watched.

After all, what was more entertaining at an event like this than a public confrontation?

"Security!" she called out when she was five steps away, her voice cutting cleanly through the hall. "There's a thief in here. Remove her immediately!"

How tedious.

I calmly set down my glass and pulled the invitation from my purse. "Look carefully," I said evenly. "I have an invitation."

Selene's eyes flicked to it for a fraction of a second. Then she extended her hand, palm open, tone dripping with undisguised command.

"Give it to me."

I glanced at her outstretched hand.

Then I flicked the card lightly between my fingers, pivoted smoothly to the side, and slipped it back into my purse, snapping it shut as if her suspended hand didn't exist at all.

The invitation bore my grandfather's name in bold script. Anyone with eyes would know exactly who I was.

But let her announce my identity?

As if.

Who did she think she was?

The gesture was blatant provocation. I knew it. Everyone knew it.

A ripple of soft gasps spread through the room.

After a split second of stunned silence, Selene recovered.

And she smiled.

That smile was more dangerous than anger. Uglier than embarrassment.

"Fake," she declared sharply, her gaze dragging over me from head to toe as if assessing a cheap counterfeit. "Impressive, Liora. Where did you get a forged invitation? What did you sell to afford that dress? Spread your legs for it?"

I had promised myself I wouldn't respond to any of her taunts.

But even I couldn't keep from frowning at something so crude.

"You-"

"Selene."

Kade's voice had cut in before I could finish. He stepped forward slightly, warning threaded through his tone.

"Enough-"

"Enough!"

The same word. The same moment.

From a different direction.

The two voices overlapped in the air-but Kade's was immediately overshadowed.

Not by volume. By weight.

No one looked at Kade.

Everyone turned. Including me.

Rowan stood at the edge of the parted crowd. I hadn't even noticed when he arrived.

Before I realized it, a warm hand had settled against my waist.

He had scanned the room slowly, deliberately, before his gaze locked onto Kade-whose expression was already twisting with fury.

Then Rowan spoke.

"Kade, control your mistress. If she disturbs my companion again. You know what will happen."

Liora's POV

"I am not a mistress."

Selene stood in the center of the crowd, spine ramrod straight, chin lifted high-but I could see her fingers trembling where she clutched the fabric of her gown, knuckles pale.

Rowan blinked, looking almost innocently surprised.

"You're not?" He tilted his head. "That's not what your private messages suggested. The ones you sent while he was still with his official partner."

He paused, as if recalling the wording.

"Something like-'She doesn't deserve you. I'll make you Alpha.' Wasn't it?"

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried. The circle of onlookers heard every word.

Selene's face flared crimson.

"You're lying," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Am I?" Rowan didn't rise to the bait. He simply shifted his gaze past her, toward the edge of the crowd. "Was I lying, Kade?"

Every head turned.

Kade stood near the back, a glass of champagne still in his hand. He didn't move. He didn't speak.

The silence was deafening.

Whispers spread like wildfire. Selene whipped around to face him, eyes blazing.

"Kade! Why aren't you saying anything?"

A faint smirk curved Rowan's lips. "Because it's true."

Selene's chest rose and fell sharply. She had shot Rowan one venomous glare before snapping her head toward me. Her gaze cut like a poisoned blade.

"And what about her?" She pointed straight at me, finger shaking. "Liora, since when did you become Rowan's date? Playing both brothers-have you no shame?"

I looked at her, her finger still aimed at me, trembling slightly.

She needed an outlet. She couldn't win against Rowan, so she was trying to tear into me instead.

I lifted my chin, my expression turning cold.

"Be specific, Selene. What exactly have I done?"

"I know you still want Kade!" she nearly screamed. "Stop pretending!"

The room fell quiet.

I heard myself laugh softly.

"How interesting," I said, the faintest smile still on my lips. "You actually think I want some trash like him."

Kade's expression flickered.

I didn't look at him. My eyes stayed on Selene.

"Listen carefully. I don't want him. You should know how quickly a broken heart heals-once you stop begging for scraps, the world becomes yours."

Silence.

Selene's face flushed an ugly shade of red.

"You-you're the trash!" she snapped, her voice cracking. "The lowest kind! Don't you dare try to belittle us!"

I tilted my head and offered her a gentle smile.

"If I'm no threat to you," I said softly, "then why are you so restless?"

She froze.

It had only lasted a few seconds before she recovered, her lips twisting into something cruel.

"Fine. Let's settle this publicly. No claws-music. A piano duel. You and me. Let everyone see who doesn't belong here."

I raised a brow. "You really think music determines who deserves love?"

"Do you accept or not?" Her patience had clearly run out.

"I accept," I said calmly. "But if you lose, you kneel. In front of everyone. Three times, you call me 'superior'-and admit you're the third party."

Her mouth opened, then shut again.

That condition hadn't been part of her plan.

I didn't wait for her to recover. I walked past her toward the grand piano at the far end of the hall.

"Elders first," I murmured as I passed her shoulder.

I heard her teeth grind behind me.

Selene took her seat at the piano. She inhaled deeply, lifted her hands, and began.

A romantic piece-Chopin's Nocturne.

Her technique was polished. Clean tone, precise ornamentation, flawless pedal work. I could tell she had practiced it countless times.

But it was tight.

Rigid. Overly careful. She chased brilliance, not emotion. The notes marched out in perfect formation-disciplined, obedient, lifeless.

When she finished, she lifted her hands and listened.

Polite applause followed. Courteous. Controlled. Nothing more.

She stood, chin high, and brushed past me.

"Your turn."

I sat down on the bench.

The keys felt cool beneath my fingers. I raised my hands, holding them suspended for two seconds before letting them fall.

The first note drifted into the air.

Soft-like a raindrop touching water.

Then another. And another. The rain turned to a stream, the stream to a rushing current. Layers of rhythm built under my fingertips, faster and faster.

I heard nothing else.

Only the music.

Only the connection between flesh and ivory.

Complex. Wild. But every note deliberate, every phrase alive with intention.

I felt a gaze settle on me.

Rowan.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, utterly still.

My fingers never faltered, but I lifted my eyes and met his.

Something flashed across his face-pride. Real pride. Unmasked, unguarded. He looked at me as if I were something precious.

My chest tightened sharply, threatening my focus. I lowered my gaze and pressed on.

The final chord struck.

The room froze.

Then the applause exploded.

"That was incredible!"

Someone even stood.

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hall, eyes shifting from me to Selene and back again.

Selene's expression darkened like a storm about to break.

I rose from the bench and turned to her.

"You lost," I said evenly. "You may kneel now."