Chapter 18
The stranger exuded a presence that was impossible to ignore. His tall, commanding frame seemed to radiate confidence, and his dark, smoldering eyes held a hint of mischief that was both intriguing and disarming. He moved with the ease of someone who knew he owned the room, every step deliberate, every gesture calculated. Victoria couldn’t help but feel the air shift around her as he approached, like gravity had shifted in his favor.
For a moment, she felt caught off guard, something that rarely happened to her. His gaze was intense but not suffocating, as though he were studying her, finding her interesting in a way she wasn’t used to. It wasn’t predatory like Damian’s or venomous like Selena’s—it was… playful.
Damian, on the other hand, stood frozen beside her, his fists clenched, the tension rolling off him in waves. His jaw tightened as the stranger stopped directly in front of them, offering a charming smile.
“Zayden Huntington,” the man introduced himself smoothly, holding out a hand to Victoria. His voice was deep and velvety, the kind of voice that seemed to settle under your skin and linger.
Victoria hesitated for only a second before taking his hand. “Victoria Cross.”
Zayden’s smile widened. “The beautiful Miss Cross,” he said, his tone tinged with admiration.
Victoria felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks, something that startled her. It wasn’t often she felt flustered, but the way Zayden’s eyes seemed to drink her in made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Before she could respond, a sharp, derisive sound broke the moment.
Damian scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. “Is there something you want, Huntington? Or do you just make it a habit to insert yourself into conversations that don’t concern you?”
Zayden turned his head toward Damian, his expression remaining cool but with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Ah, Mr. Blackwood,” he said in a taunting voice, his lips curling into a smirk. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting such an important… reunion.”
Damian’s nostrils flared, and his hand twitched at his side, as though he were restraining himself from lunging at Zayden. “Keep your hungry eyes away from my wife,” Damian snarled, his voice low and dangerous.
Victoria choked on her drink, nearly dropping the glass in her hand. “Your what?” she blurted, her voice high with disbelief.
Zayden, however, looked utterly unbothered, his smirk widening into a full, amused grin. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze darting between Damian and Victoria as though he’d just stumbled into the most entertaining drama of the evening. “Your wife?” he repeated, his tone laced with mock curiosity. “That’s interesting. I was under the impression your wife died, Mr. Blackwood.”
Damian’s jaw worked furiously, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to contain the storm brewing inside him.
“She’s not dead,” he bit out through gritted teeth, his voice low and venomous. His eyes bored into Zayden’s with barely restrained fury. “You’re looking right at her.”
The tension in the air snapped like a rubber band.
Victoria felt the blood drain from her face as Damian’s words hung in the air. The noise of the gala around them seemed to fade, the world narrowing to just the three of them.
Zayden’s amused expression didn’t falter, though his eyes flickered with intrigue as he looked back at Victoria. “Well,” he said, his voice light but layered with meaning, “this just got interesting.”
“Damian,” Victoria hissed, her voice sharp as she turned to him. Her heart was racing, and her hands trembled slightly as she tried to regain control of the situation. “What are you doing?”
“What I should’ve done from the start,” Damian snapped, his eyes never leaving Zayden. “Making sure people know exactly who you are.”
Zayden chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down Victoria’s spine. “Fascinating,” he murmured, as if talking to himself. Then, louder, “You must have quite the story, Miss—or should I say, Mrs.—Cross.”
Victoria shot him a glare, her voice firm. “Don’t. This isn’t the place, or the time.”
“Oh, I disagree,” Zayden replied smoothly, his smirk unfaltering. “If anything, this is exactly the place. But I’ll defer to you, of course. After all, I wouldn’t want to upset Mr. Blackwood.”
Damian took a step closer to Zayden, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Watch yourself, Huntington.”
Zayden held his ground, completely unfazed. “Touchy, aren’t we?” he quipped, his voice dripping with mockery. “You seem awfully possessive for someone who let his wife ‘die.’”
Victoria’s breath caught, and she felt Damian’s fury shift in her direction.
“Zayden,” she said sharply, her voice like a whip, “that’s enough.”
He inclined his head slightly, his smile softening just a fraction. “Of course. My apologies, Mrs. Cross. I’ll leave you to your… reunion.”
He stepped back but not before locking eyes with Victoria one last time. There was something in his gaze—an understanding, a silent promise that this wasn’t over. And then he melted back into the crowd, leaving Victoria standing frozen between Damian and the echoes of her past.
“Victoria,” Damian growled, his voice low and filled with warning.
She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Not here,” she snapped, the fury bubbling beneath her cool exterior. “You’ve done enough damage for one night.”
