Page 59 of Dark Soul

Dark

Fuck, she was beautiful.

Like a wild dandelion loose in a field of plastic orchids.

He wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Of the people crowding the piano pretending to look at the boy, half of the men and some of the women were staring at Alexia.

Dark could see why. She was dressed in a simple black dress that showed off her beautiful shoulders and the nape of her neck. Her hair was out of her face, done up in a simple, classy ponytail. And while the dress’s neckline was much less risqué than most, the rest of the dress, down to her knees, molded itself to her curves in an intoxicating promise. She’d done something to her eyes, to make them dark and smoky—something that made the green stand out, like emeralds.

Dark wanted to rush to her and stake his claim.

Make it clear to all the men in the room that this was one treasure they couldn’t have.

Mine.

All mine.

He breathed in and out several times to get himself back under control.

“Your girl’s popular,” Rogue said lightly from his left side. Even though he wasn’t carrying a gun, Dark didn’t like having anyone on his right.

Dark turned to look at Rogue. The man cleaned up nicely. He’d taken the time to comb his hair for once, tying it back neatly at the back of his neck, and looked suave and in control, like a man used to wearing a dinner jacket.

It was hard to focus with Alexia so close, even though he’d known he was going to see her at the party.

Dark forced himself back on the job. He had two objectives tonight. To get the job done, and to make sure Alexia was okay. To make sure whatever went down didn’t hurt her.

The music boomed to its final crescendo, the boy’s hands moving faster than Dark would have thought possible, then finally descended into complete silence.

For a moment, the room was a silent tableau. Then, everybody erupted in applause. Alexia, standing beside the boy, clapped the loudest.

The boy stood up, a blush spreading up his neck and all the way past his cheeks and his ears. He looked up at someone standing in the first row, and there was such fear and worry in the boy’s gaze, Dark didn’t need to ask himself who he was looking at.

Kvyat.

He elbowed Rogue gently.

“There he is. In the first row.”

“You take care of it?”

Dark nodded. “You head upstairs, find the office. Whatever happens, it’ll most likely happen there.”

Rogue had managed to download plans of Kvyat’s house from the municipality. They knew the office was on the second floor, right next to the master bedroom—wealthy people apparently liked to be close to their secrets.

Dark made his way through the room, not quite elbowing his way through, but using his bulk in a way that made people make space for him. A hand skimmed across the back of his thighs and he tensed—looked back to see a slender older woman in a white dress, wearing a diamond choker that looked like it could keep an orphanage going for a few years. She caught his eye and smirked, unrepentant. And she looked like she was going to say something, but Dark kept right on walking.

The stench of money in the room was getting to him.

Finally, he had his target in his direct line of sight.

It was Kvyat he should be looking at, but for a moment Alexia was all he could focus on. She stood very close to the boy, shoulder to shoulder, and she could see in the lines of her body how much she was holding the boy up, sharing her strength with him.

She’s okay.

She’s okay.

Dark turned his eyes to Kvyat. And he didn’t know what he’d expected to see, but the man just watched his young son perform in a room full of strangers, so he’d expected some measure of pride and delight. But Kvyat’s expression was cold and cruel, as if something had disappointed him greatly.