‘I’m not an animal, nor a brute. I can set aside my rage if I choose to. The war ritual was in your aid, a display of honor, and refusing this tango would be losing face after all my hard work.’
With a slight nod and a tight smile, she placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to the center of the room.
They stepped onto the dance floor. Under the dim glow of the chandeliers, the room around them was a blur of white linens, flowers, and faces.
The music swelled, and he led her in slow, graceful steps, their feet in cadence as they circled the ballroom.
Their guests’ eyes tracked them, as he imagined them thinking this union was a fairy tale, two perfect people at a faultless wedding.
They had no idea.
His jaw clenched as he slid his other hand to her waist, the silk of her gown sliding beneath his fingertips.
She was soft and warm.
He became aware of her body close to his and how his cock twitched in response.
Gritting his teeth, he reoriented his thoughts away from her to maintain control.
They glided across in tandem until Saba leaned back to meet his eyes. ‘What’s the story with Zolan Asivan?’ she asked, eyes locked on him.
He cocked his head and gave her a long look. ‘Are you acquainted with him?’
Her jaw clenched, and a short-lived expression of rage came over her. ‘I know of him,’ she clipped.
He caught an inflection in her voice, and a tendril of doubt hit him.
He chose to ignore the forewarning for now.
‘Then you know Zolan and my families are old enemies,’ he rasped.
‘I do. But I have no intimate knowledge of why. Please indulge me,Šar.’
He took a deep breath, unsure she deserved the truth.
Still, he gave in to her gentle request, given she’d been so judicious and wise a few moments earlier.
‘The Sauvage dynasty rose from the ashes of the Apocalypse Wars, when Earth’s collapse forced the bold to build a way out. While others scrambled for armies or food, my father secured what mattered most, the industrial machine required to escape. He cornered the synth-steel refineries, monopolized hydrogen ramjet factories, and patented the converters that harvested hydrogen from space to fuel nuclear fusion. Those cores became the lifeblood of the ark ships, powering the flotilla’s flight from a dying planet.’
Saba nodded. ‘Fascinating. Go on.’
He tilted her head, surprised at her interest in his history.
‘In a broken world, we built the road to salvation,’ he went on. ‘Our wealth was forged not in gold but in propulsion, power, and manufacturing. For decades, the battle for synth-steel raged between the Sauvages and the Asivans.ŠarkhanSotto Asivan dominated first, but my father, Spiro Sauvage, bought loyalty and waited. When Sotto was assassinated in the late ‘80s, his reckless son Sarmin took over. Spiro seized his chance, turning Sarmin’s allies against him. Betrayals ignited violent street warsacross the Mediterranean until, one night, Spiro and his gunmen ambushed Sarmin in his office, killing him and ending the war before dawn.’
Saba’s eyes widened as her hand tightened in his, and he caught a soft look of empathy in her eyes.
‘Still, the bitterness remained. Zolan and I were just children when my father crushed his, yet the hostility lingers, fueling coup attempts, sabotage, and blood feuds that haunt our family to this day. I thought the enmity ceased when my parents died during the Apocalypse, but it was wishful thinking.’
‘Now, here we are,’ Saba murmured.
‘Indeed.’
‘What are you going to do about it? Zolan doesn’t seem like someone who lets go of animosity easily.’
She’d read him well, and he lifted a brow at her insight. ‘He holds grudges, it’s a well-established fact. We’ve ignored him, and it seems to work to some degree. Tonight was a wild attempt to switch the narrative in his favor. All he did was humiliate himself. I hope hefokksoff with his tail between his legs.’
‘If he does, it won’t be long; he’s impatient, and his soul is vengeful. I’d keep a close eye on him,’ she murmured.
