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Abby and Penelope had become invaluable as they whispered the locations of five guns that’d been hidden in the foyer, library, games room, ballroom, and kitchens. Peter and the rest of the jewels knew where extra bullets were stashed along with a few lighters May had given us from the kitchens. We also had two butane torches used to melt sugar on the regular crème brûlées Victor ordered.
We had guns.
Ignition.
And bombs.
We still hadn’t made the larger, more dangerous presents that would take out certain structural integrities of the fortress, but we’d done enough that waiting for Christmas started to grate.
Every day was painful.
Every night was terrifying.
Victor didn’t act like he guessed anything was afoot but…we could never know for sure.
At least he’d been distracted with organising this ball.
He’d joined Henri and me for lunch, giggling like a freaking loon as if he genuinely couldn’t wait for this evening.
I’d never expected the dominating psychopath to place weight on something as silly as a dance. He actually believed the jewels were excited to be dressed and paraded, then abused and fucked as the evening went on.
Scooping the delicate mask from the bed, I secured the ribbon behind my head and blinked through a million facets of light. Every inch of the mask blinded with shimmering crystals, turning everything into rainbows.
“Are you ready?” Henri asked, striding from the bathroom where he’d dressed.
With his eyes on the floor as he tied his own mask behind his head, I had a quick moment to study him without his stare on mine.
And good grief…
Could someone fall in love multiple times?
I’d never seen a more handsome man.
Never had my breath stolen by another just for existing.
Dressed head to toe in black, he wore a heavy velvet cape that flared from his shoulders and whispered against the floor. Glossy black shoes, mandarin collared black shirt, and a mask covered in glittering black tourmaline.
The light-sucking gemstones drew every illumination in the room to his eyes, ensnaring me, killing me—
“Je-sus.” He froze as his hands dropped and his gaze landed on me.
His mouth hung open.
He shuddered on the spot.
And then he prowled toward me, his grey eyes erupting with silver flames. The familiar starfire between us built and billowed, igniting every piece of our bodies, hearts, and souls.
“Tu es et tu seras toujours la plus belle femme que j'ai jamais vue.” (You are and always will be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.) He cupped my cheek, running his thumb over my unpainted bottom lip.
He forgot our pantomime. Ripped up our script.
And kissed me.
The moment his mouth met mine, I slung my arms around his cape-draped shoulders and clung to him.
Just for a single moment.
A stolen second.
