CHAPTER 007

BETTY

I squint my eyes, completely thrown off by this stranger standing in front of me.

“Did you just say you’re Batman?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, trying to mask the confusion twisting in my stomach.

He smiles — and it’s ridiculous how beautiful it is. It’s those kinds of smiles that feel practiced yet disarming, the kind that could melt through walls.

For a fleeting second, I think of Nathaniel and how he has that same kind of smile, but it has never been directed to me.

“Mmh,” he hums, raising an eyebrow, and for some reason, that tiny gesture sends warmth crawling up my neck.

Did I just blush? What the hell. I was crying only minutes ago.

I straighten my shoulders, forcing my voice to steady. “If you’re not going to tell me who you are, maybe you’ll be more comfortable telling the security.”

I step around him to make my way back to the house, but he moves just as quickly and blocks my path.

I bump into his chest, and the impact sends a shiver down my spine, because damn, that’s a hard chest.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone I’m here,” he says, stepping back just enough before pulling a cigarette from his pocket, flicking the lighter open.  

“Don’t,” I blurt, raising a hand before I can stop myself. “Don’t do that here. Harriette won’t like it if you smoke near her garden.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, and it makes him chuckle.

He lights it anyway, deliberately ignoring me, and takes a slow drag before blowing the smoke toward the roses. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he says, eyes dancing with amusement.

Who the hell is this man?

“That’s it. I’m reporting you.” I turn to leave, but his hand catches mine before I can take a step, and he pulls me towards him, landing on his chest.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go back in there?” he asks, his voice gentle. “I heard you crying a few minutes ago.”

He takes another drag, exhaling the smoke toward the side of my face, and I begin to choke.

I yank my hand back, coughing into my wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I choke out, my eyes stinging.

He laughs, a quiet, unbothered sound that grates and soothes at the same time.

I turn, quickening my pace toward the house, but I can feel him behind me, his footsteps unhurried, almost lazy.

I glance back, and sure enough, he’s following, hands in his pockets, looking like he has nowhere better to be.

I step back inside the ballroom, and everything stills once again.

Nathaniel stands in the center of the room, his hands resting on Amanda’s waist as they sway together to the soft hum of violins.

She’s smiling, her face tilted toward him, and he’s whispering something against her ear that makes her laugh.

The sight knocks the air out of my lungs, but I take a deep breath, refusing to let anyone see me break.

He turns his head, just slightly, and his gaze brushes over me.

Our eyes meet, and I wait for him to pull away from her, or at least pretend to care that his wife is standing right there, but instead, he turns back to Amanda, and this time, he leans in, his mouth close to her ear, his hand pressing lower on her back.

My stomach twists, the air heavy in my throat, and tears threaten to return, but then the faint scent of cigarettes and rain reaches me again.

I turn my head, and the strange handsome man is now standing beside me, his leather jacket gone, his dark shirt open at the collar, sleeves rolled to his forearms.

There’s a silver mask on his face, too, but I’d recognize that smile anywhere.

“Care to dance?” he asks, his voice calm and low, like the chaos of the ballroom doesn’t touch him at all.

I lean back slightly, caught off guard by the question, and for a second, I almost laugh — not because it’s funny, but because it’s absurd.

But then I look at Nathaniel—laughing and dancing like no one is watching, and something crawls up my chest.

Something unfamiliar. It tastes like defiance. And I like it.

I turn to the stranger, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Sure,” I mutter. “Why not?”

His lips tilt into a knowing smirk, and he gestures to a nearby waiter, handing over his jacket without saying a word, before turning back to me and extending his hand.

I hesitate, my heart beginning to thud faintly in my chest, but I take it.

His palm is warm, steady, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m about to fall apart.

He leads me to the dance floor, his hand finding my waist as mine rest on his shoulder, and the minute our bodies align, my breath catches.

His touch is confident in a way that steadies me rather than cages me, and it makes me feel seen, the opposite of how Nathaniel makes me feel.

We begin to move slowly, with measured steps, the music wrapping around us like silk.

He doesn’t take his eyes off me, and as much as I try to look away, I can't.  The more I avoid his gaze, the stronger it pulls me back.

“Are you finally going to tell me who you are?” I ask softly, my voice barely above the melody.

He shakes his head once, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “Tell you what, you tell me why you were crying in the garden, and I’ll tell you my name.”

I scoff lightly, rolling my eyes and tilting my head to the opposite direction. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He narrows his eyes, his lips thinning just enough to make his expression unreadable. “Sure. You weren’t,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I arch my brow slightly, and I try studying him, trying to figure him out, but nothing about him seems to make sense.

 He’s confident, too confident, I might say, like every other person in this room, but there’s just something different about him.

I’ve never seen him before, and I’ve been to every Blackwell event for the past six years.

Is he a friend of the family? A business associate? Or did he somehow sneak in? But no. That’s impossible. Harriette’s guest list is highly exclusive. No one can get past her security without being noticed.

So who the hell is he?

His hand shifts slightly lower on my waist, and I slap it gently, more out of instinct. He chuckles under his breath, the sound low and unbothered, but somehow that makes me even more flustered.

I glance around and notice a few people watching us, their eyes filled with curiosity, but I keep dancing.

Partly because stopping now would draw even more attention, and partly because it feels good to be seen again, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment.

As we turn with the rhythm, my eyes drift across the room until they find him again.

He’s still holding Amanda, their bodies close, his hand at the small of her back as they talk and laugh like they’re the only two people here.

His gaze hasn’t flickered in my direction. Not even now, and for a moment I wish he would look. Just once.

I wish he’d turn his head and see me in another man’s arms, smiling like I’m finally free, and maybe it would burn him the way he’s burned me for years.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t even blink.

I bite the inside of my cheek and force my attention back to the stranger, whose eyes are still fixed on me, and just as I’m about to ask him who he really is again, the music ends.

The applause starts around us, and I look down, suddenly shy under all the eyes, and my fingers slip from his shoulder, before I take a small step back.

“Thanks for the dance,” he says, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

I nod, my eyes widening, my lips folded. “You’re welcome.”

I turn to leave, already feeling the cool air of distance creeping back between us, when a voice cuts through the room.

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.” The words drop like glass on marble.

I stop and turn, instinctively thinking he’s talking to me, because who else would Nathaniel take a jab at in public?

But when I follow his line of sight, his eyes aren’t on me at all. They’re locked on the man standing beside me, and the tension in the air thickens instantly.

He straightens, the easy smile still lingering, though it sharpens at the edges, and in one slow, deliberate motion, he reaches up and removes his mask.

Nathaniel does the same.

None of them speaks; they just stand there, staring at each other across the space, both beautiful, both powerful, but radiating completely different energies.

Nathaniel looks furious; the stranger seems entertained.

Finally, he smirks — that same lazy, self-assured smile from the garden before nodding once.

“Hello there, cousin,” he says smoothly, his voice a mix of charm and provocation. “It’s been a while.”