CHAPTER 6

CATHERINE POV 

The moment those words rolled off her lips and spilled into the suddenly thick, suffocating air, every single muscle in my body contracted.

Dominic Moretti.

Horror flashed through me like an electric shock leaving my blood humming with the frantic surge of adrenaline, I whipped my head toward the stage so fast a sharp, stinging pain shot down my neck. I barely registered the ache over the deafening thud of my heart slamming against my ribs.

No. It can't be possible.

My jaw clenched, as I tried to stutter out a word, a single denial to reassure myself that I was losing my mind. I tried to tell myself that I had misheard, that the ghosts of my past were playing tricks on me, that the demons from my nightmares had finally crawled out of the dark to mess with my head.

The desperate justification barely lasted a second before a fresh wave of paralyzing fear flooded my bloodstream. My skin turned ice-cold. My breath hitched in my chest, a tight knot forming in my throat while I prayed frantically to whatever God might be listening.

It can't be, please.

“It's time. Each host will have to give a speech. I’ll be back, Cat.” Adrian’s deep voice sounded a million miles away, like a muffled signal scrambled by the white noise screaming in my head.

I didn't turn to him. I couldn't. I didn't so much as spare him a glance. I stood paralyzed in the maze of glittering guests, craning my neck, my eyes glued to the elevated platform.

Any second now, I bargained with myself, my lungs burning for air. In just a minute, the misunderstanding will be cleared up. Whatever sick illusion seeped into my head will disperse, and I can breathe again.

I muttered, a silent mantra

The announcer spoke a few more formal words, her polite voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings before she gestured toward the high table. I strained, standing on my tiptoes to see through the impenetrable wall of tailored suits and evening gowns, but failed to caught even a glimpse of him. I fell back, my knuckles white, half-praying, half-begging that it was anyone else.

Anyone but him.

I wiped my clammy, sweating palms against the silk of my gown, my breaths coming out in sharp, uneven gasps while I desperately tried to school my expression. I tried to pull up my armor, to lock away the emotion, but the control I had perfected over the last five years was slipping fast, piece by piece like water in a fist

It worked for only a fraction of a second before a deafening round of applause erupted through the room.

The suddenly booming noise startled me, and I jerked my head toward the center stage. Except it wasn't the announcer stepping into the spotlight.

It was the hosts.

My frantic gaze swept over the line of powerful men, skimming past faces I barely recognized, until it landed… on him.

Six-foot-six. Broad shoulders draped in an impeccably tailored, midnight-blue tuxedo that fit him like armor. Sharp, ruthless jawline. Pristine hair and the unmistakably cold grey eyes 

The Devil himself.

Dominic Moretti.

The blood completely drained from my face. I went rigid, every nerve ending screaming in panic as horror flashed behind my eyes. My knees wobbled, and I staggered back a step.

It… it can't be.

It can't be.

He can't be here. Not in this city. Not in my haven 

Cold, jagged spikes of dread ran straight down my spine as I watched him, the same man who had broken my soul into a million pieces, the nightmare that haunted my sleep, the dark shadow I had spent five agonizing years running from.

He was here.

He found me 

My trembling fingers clutched the hard frame of my purse so tightly the pads of my fingers turned white, digging into the material until my nails threatened to snap, he barely noticed the sting. Hot, bitter tears stung the back of my eyes, blurring my vision into a haze of gold chandeliers and shifted shadows.

Around me, the elite crowd cheered and murmured in awe at his imposing presence. But while they worshipped the ground he walked on as usual, I trembled. Every single brick of the fortress I had built over the years was cracking, crumbling, and scraping away, piece by piece, leaving me raw and exposed just like all those years.

“I… I need to get out of here,” I choked out, the words dying in my throat before they could even become a whisper.

I needed to turn. I needed to run until the air burned in my lungs and my legs gave out. But my feet felt glued to the marble floor, my entire body frozen solid in shock and utter terror.

Inside my head, I was screaming. I was sobbing, clawing at my own skin, thrashing against the invisible cage of my own mind until the sheer panic finally snapped the paralysis.

I forced my feet to move. One small step back. Then another.

I turned and stumbled away from the light, blindly pushing through the sea of guests. I ignored the irritated grunts and harsh glares from people I bumped into, my chest heaving, my heart hammering like a trapped bird.

My steps quickened into a desperate stride. My heels clicked frantically against the floor as the grand exit doors finally came into view. 

Freedom was right there.

An escape from this hell.

My hand reached for the door, i shifted throwing one last glance over my shoulder.

Across the crowded, glittering hall, past hundreds of swaying bodies, a razor-sharp pair of cold, stormy grey eyes was staring right back at me.

Locking onto mine.

He was staring. 

At me?

My breath hitched violently in my throat.

I didn't wait another second. I slammed my weight against the heavy doors, burst through them and bolted out into the cold night.