"Your Uber is here," he interrupted, nodding toward a car pulling up to the curb.
I glanced at the car, then back at him, torn between fleeing and demanding answers. Fear and curiosity warred within me, neither quite winning.
"Who are you?" I asked, the question barely audible over the distant thump of music from the club.
He smiled, the expression transforming his severe features into something almost beautiful. Almost human.
"Someone who sees you," he said simply. "Goodnight, Ms. O’Sullivan."
I backed away, keeping my eyes on him until I reached the car. The driver confirmed my name, and I slid into the backseat, locking the door immediately.
As we pulled away from the curb, I looked back through the window. The man stood exactly where I'd left him, watching the car disappear into the night, his expression hidden in shadow.
I should have been terrified. Should have been calling my father, my brothers, the police. A stranger had known my name, had watched me all night, had appeared and disappeared like a ghost.
Instead, I found myself replaying his words in my mind, a shiver that wasn't entirely fear running down my spine.
Someone who sees you.
In a life spent being seen as an O'Sullivan, as Patrick's daughter, as a future asset to the family business—the idea of being seen for myself was as intoxicating as it was terrifying.
I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, watching the city lights blur past, the stranger's face lingering in my mind like an afterimage.
I didn't know who he was.
But I had a feeling I would see him again.
And God help me, part of me was looking forward to it.
4
RAFE
I'd watched her for exactly forty-seven minutes.
From my private alcove on the mezzanine level of Tenebris, I had an unobstructed view of the dance floor below. The perfect vantage point to observe without being observed. To hunt without being hunted.
I’d been a regular here shortly after graduating Saint Gabriel, back when I still thought power came from being seen. I started in the Velvet Room. Most of us did. But eventually, you outgrow red lights and mirrored glass. Tenebris was colder. Quieter. Built for a different kind of appetite.
Grace O'Sullivan moved differently than she had in the surveillance photos. In those, she'd been guarded, controlled—shoulders straight, movements efficient, always aware of her surroundings. But here, in the pulsing darkness of the club, something had changed.
She danced with her eyes closed, her body swaying to the music with an abandon that surprised me. Her blonde hair caught the blue and purple lights, creating a halo effect that made her look almost ethereal. The navy dress she wore clung tocurves that her usual conservative clothing concealed, revealing a body that was both delicate and strong.
I took a sip of my whiskey, never taking my eyes off her.
She'd felt me watching. I'd seen it in the way she'd suddenly stiffened, in how her eyes had searched the balcony until they'd found my silhouette. Instead of looking away, she'd stared back—a challenge in her posture that sent a surge of heat through my blood.
Interesting. Most people instinctively avoid the gaze of predators.
But Grace O'Sullivan wasn't most people.
When she left the dance floor and headed for the courtyard, I knew it was time. I'd studied her long enough from a distance. Now I wanted to see her up close. To hear her voice. To test her reactions.
I set down my glass and straightened my cuffs, a habit ingrained since childhood. Appearance matters. Control matters. Even in the pursuit of obsession, there are rules to be followed.
The path from my alcove to the main floor required navigating through the VIP section—a labyrinth of private booths where the city's elite indulged in vices they pretended to condemn in daylight. I nodded to the security guard who stood at the entrance to the stairs, a man on my payroll who knew better than to question my movements.
The main floor was a different world—louder, more chaotic, bodies pressed together in a writhing mass of desire and desperation. I moved through it effortlessly, people instinctively stepping aside without realizing why. Power recognizes power, even in the dark.
