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Back down to the camera. To the strap biting into my collarbone.
To the lens between me and the world.
I click again, even though I’m not focused, even though my hands are a little too tight around the grip.
Because I am one heartbeat away from combusting, andthis closeto throwing hands with my own hormones, and the last thing I need is LucianfuckingVale narrowing his eyes at me like I’m a question worth answering.
Chapter Four
Rhea
Another clink of champagne glasses. Laughter where there shouldn’t be any.
After recovering from my slight internal meltdown, I orbit the edges of the gala like a well-dressed ghost with a bad attitude. My heels ache, my dress is clinging to places I didn’t ask it to, and my camera strap is trying to carve a permanent groove into my collarbone.
I’m not hiding. I'm just keeping a respectful distance from things I don’t need to touch.
Alphas included.
My skin still hasn’t cooled down fromAsh'sarrival,and Lucian entering the room like he was auditioning to ruin my life on a tax-deductible budget didn’t exactly help.
Neither does the knowledge that somewhere in this glitter-drenched ballroom is a high-ranking OMB official sipping champagne and likely making polite conversation about public safety while his presence alone makes my spine lock.The scent-neutralizers buzz above; too quiet to do anything useful, too loud to ignore now that I’m paying attention - like the world’s most passive-aggressive mosquito.
I shift my weight. Adjust the strap of my camera.
Breathe in. Hold. Let go.
I’m fine. I’m calm. I’m invisible.Just another beta with a camera and a very reasonable fear of government oversight.
I spot Lexi practically glowing by the bar, surrounded by a circle of rich beta men trying to impress her and women trying to figure out if they’re jealous or in love. She sees me and lifts two fingers - a barely-there flick that meansyou alive?
I make my way over, and she leans in, her voice pitched low beneath the music. “You good?”
“Golden," I nod. "Glitter and ego and overpriced champagne - just how I like it.”
Lexi arches a brow. “You look like you’re two seconds from setting a chandelier on fire.”
I smirk. “I’m surviving.”
“You know,” she says casually, “you don’t have to just survive. You could be the main character of this whole event. Sparkle more. Start a scandal. Flip a table.”
“I prefer the shadows. Better lighting. Less bullshit.”
She sips her drink, eyes dancing. “Tragic. Think of the chaos you could unleash.”
“Oh, I think about it. That’s why I stay behind the camera.” I gesture to the crowd with my chin. “Temptation in sequins still doing numbers?”
She hums, amused. “One of the board members called medangerous,” she says. “I told him danger is my middle name.”
“Is it?”
“It is now.”
I laugh - soft, sharp, and way too easy. My pulse is still somewhere north of normal, but Lexi grounds me, as always.
The only sane person in a room full of expensive delusions.
She leans in closer, eyes gleaming. “You see him?”
