Page 94 of Gilded in Blood

I push off the wall and start moving toward him, weaving through the crowd. But the second I get closer, he slips into the sea of bodies and disappears.

I stop, scanning the area, jaw tight. Where the hell did he go? Who was he? I know someone might be tracking us. Michael’s reach is long, and he’s not the only player in this game.

I make my way back to the edge of the dance floor, eyes locked on Milana again. She’s still dancing, unaware, laughing with Sarah.

I need to get her out of here soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Milana

After dancing for a while, I lean in close to Sarah, catching my breath. “I'm parched.”

“And I need to use the bathroom,” she responds, breathless. “I’ll be right back.”

“Do you need me to come with you?”

She waves me off. “Go ahead. I’m fine.”

I make my way through the crowd toward the bar area, feeling Kirill’s eyes on me the entire time. He’s standing a little ways back, watching.

When I reach the bar, he’s already there, stepping up beside me.

“Having fun?” he asks, voice low.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “Want to dance?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

I lean against the bar. “I need a drink.”

He flags down the bartender and orders for me without asking what I want. I watch him, a little amused, a little turned on by how easily he takes charge and already knows my drink of choice.

While the bartender makes my drink, Kirill’s phone rings. He answers it, stepping slightly to the side but staying close enough that I can still feel his presence.

A random guy slides up to the bar next to me, flashing a smile. “Hey beautiful, can I get you a drink?”

I shake my head. “No, thanks.”

He doesn’t take the hint. "My name is Mark.”

“Not interested.”

“Come on, why are you playing hard to get? You’re too pretty to be here alone.”

I roll my eyes. "My boyfriend is here and you don't want to find out what he’ll do to you if he sees you flirting with me.”

The guy holds up his hands. “Alright, alright.”

As he walks away, I turn and catch Kirill watching me with that intense, dark look. I expected him to step in, to get jealous. But he didn’t.

I close the distance between us, stepping right up to him. “Why didn’t you say something?”

He shrugs. “You seemed like you could handle him. He wasn’t a threat.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He arches an eyebrow. “Weren’t you jealous?”

“No.”