Chapter 5 - The Red Velvet Trap
The Renaissance Center glittered like a diamond in the dark Detroit night. Hundreds of high-society figures, politicians, and billionaires milled about the grand ballroom in silk tuxedos and designer gowns.
I stood at the top of the grand staircase, feeling completely out of my element. Harlan’s personal stylists had spent three hours preparing me. I was wearing a backless crimson silk gown that hugged every curve, paired with a diamond necklace from the Voss family vault that felt heavier than lead against my collarbone.
Harlan stepped up beside me, adjusting his black bowtie. In his tailored tuxedo, he looked like a king arriving to inspect his domain.
"You look breathtaking, Rue," he murmured, offering his elbow to me.
"I feel like bait," I whispered back, taking his arm. His biceps were solid steel beneath the expensive fabric.
"You are bait," Harlan admitted calmly as we began descending the stairs. "But I am the hunter waiting in the trees. Keep your chin up. Let them see you."
The moment our feet hit the ballroom floor, the ambient noise of the crowd dropped by half. Eyes turned. Whispers rippled through the room like wildfire. Harlan Voss, the reclusive titan who hadn't attended a public event since his wife passed away three years ago, had arrived—holding the arm of an unknown, breathtaking woman in crimson.
"Mr. Voss!" A sleek, silver-haired man in his fifties stepped out from a circle of politicians, holding a glass of champagne. His eyes were small, cruel, and sharp as needles. A faint snake tattoo peaked out from under his crisp white shirt cuff.
Viktor Vance.
"Viktor," Harlan said smoothly, his posture relaxed, though I could feel every muscle in his arm lock into tension. "I didn't expect to see you outside of the docks."
"I could say the same for you, Harlan," Vance sneered, his eyes sliding down to rest on me. "I heard a rumor you had a minor security breach at your estate last night. A shame about little Belle. Is she... recovering?"
I felt a surge of rage so intense I had to clench my fists to keep from slapping the smile off Vance's face. Harlan’s grip on my waist tightened gently, holding me back.
"Belle is perfectly safe, Viktor," Harlan said, his voice terrifyingly quiet. "In fact, she’s sleeping peacefully knowing that every man involved in her inconvenience last night is currently lying in a ditch near Lake Erie."
Vance’s smile twitched, a spark of genuine anger flashing in his eyes. "Is that so? And who is your lovely companion? I don't recall seeing her on your payroll."
Before Harlan could speak, I stepped forward, raising my chin and looking Vance dead in the eye.
"My name is Rue Callaway," I said clearly, my voice carrying over the music. "And if you ever send another package to my address, Mr. Vance, I won't let Harlan handle it. I'll destroy you myself."
A heavy silence fell over the surrounding group. Vance stared at me in shock before bursting into a dark, harsh laugh.
May you like
"Feisty," Vance spat. "Harlan, where did you find this one?"
"She found me," Harlan said smoothly. He leaned down, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the side of my neck right over my racing pulse, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "And she is off-limits to everyone in this room."
