Chapter 9

THIRD PERSON POV

Hailey hadn’t expected to see Dorian that night. She had barely stepped away from her mother’s side when his familiar scent reached her sharp cologne and something warm, like smoke and citrus. He looked effortlessly charming as usual, his dark hair slicked back, his suit tailored to perfection. He was standing in the midst of about eight young beautiful ladies, each of them exquisitely dressed. When his gaze found hers across the ballroom, he smirked, the kind of smirk that always got him into trouble.

“Hailey Carter,” he said, his tone teasing as he walked over. “Looking like sin in heels tonight. You trying to kill a few hearts?”

She rolled her eyes, though a small smile played on her lips. “You’re late.”

“Fashionably,” he said with a wink. “Where’s the groom-to-be? Brooding in a corner somewhere?”

“Don’t start,” she warned but she smiled warmly.

But Dorian’s smirk faded when she slipped the small folded note from her clutch and handed it to him discreetly. His expression turned serious instantly. He read it once, then again, his jaw tightening.

‘Be careful of Santino. He’s not who you think he is.’

When he finally looked up, there was something fierce in his eyes. “Who gave this to you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It was just handed to me. I thought it was one of those stupid admirer letters until I opened it.”

He folded the paper slowly, slipping it into his pocket. “You shouldn’t even be touching this. Santino doesn’t play fair, Hailey. I’ve been looking into him for sometime now.”

Her eyes snapped up. “You what?”

“I had to,” Dorian said, voice low. “I wanted to know who the hell you’re being tied to. The name Blackwood shows up in a lot of places it shouldn’t. Offshore accounts, private ports, arms contracts under fake companies. But there’s no direct link nothing that holds in court. He’s covered his tracks.”

Her heart skipped. “You think he’s-...?”

“Dangerous?” Dorian’s lips curved without humor. “More than you realize.”

They stood closer now, voices barely above a whisper as violins filled the background. Hailey’s hands fidgeted with the edge of her glass, trying to hide how her fingers trembled. She wasn’t scared easily, but something about hearing it from Dorian someone who never took anything seriously made it real.

“Hailey,” Dorian said softly, his tone shifting. “Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”

“I can’t,” she said bitterly. “My father’s already made the deal. The papers, the press, the contracts!it’s all done.”

Dorian’s eyes darkened. “Your father sold you off for business.”

“More like for power,” she muttered.

Before he could say another word, movement from the other side of the room caught his attention. His gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening slightly. Santino stood there tall, composed, radiating quiet danger from the upper end of the room. He wasn’t talking to anyone, wasn’t smiling either. His eyes were fixed on them.

Hailey didn’t notice. She was still lost in her thoughts, talking about the note, her tone frustrated. But Dorian did. And the corner of his mouth lifted into something reckless.

He stepped closer, closer than necessary. His fingers brushed a loose strand of her hair, tucking it behind her ear. Then, with deliberate slowness, he let his hand linger there, his thumb grazing her jawline.

Hailey blinked, startled. “Dorian?”

He leaned in slightly, voice smooth. “Relax. You look tense.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Maybe. But you love me anyway.”

She tried to shove him playfully, but he didn’t budge. He only smiled wider, eyes glinting as if amused by something unseen. She didn’t know it, but he was staring directly at Santino letting him see every little move.

Santino’s expression didn’t change, but Dorian could feel the storm from across the room. A warning that said he was crossing a line. That only made him grin harder.

When Hailey finally noticed where Dorian’s attention was fixed, she turned and her stomach tightened. Santino was still watching. The air around him seemed to pulse with restrained violence.

Hailey swallowed and turned away quickly. “Let’s go,” she muttered.

Dorian nodded, satisfied. He’d made his point.

…

The event ended past midnight. The crowd thinned out, laughter echoing down the hallways, champagne glasses clinking. Hailey’s parents left last, her father clearly drunk, his arm heavy around her mother’s trembling shoulders.

Inside the car, her father laughed too loud, the smell of whiskey thick in the air. “You looked… like your mother when she was younger,” he slurred, gesturing at Hailey with his glass. “Beautiful but stubborn. Don’t ruin this marriage with that mouth of yours, Hailey.”

Her mother tensed, hands clenched in her lap. “Please, just rest,” she whispered.

But he went on, voice turning softer almost pitiful. “I’m sorry, Rosa… sorry for everything.”

Hailey froze. He never said sorry. Not once in her life. Her mother’s eyes filled instantly, and she looked away, blinking fast as if afraid to believe him.

When they reached home, Hailey got out first, slamming the door behind her. She didn’t want to hear more. She didn’t want to see her mother’s tears. The mansion lights were bright, too bright, like nothing bad could ever happen inside. But everything bad did.

She climbed upstairs without another word.

…

The next afternoon, she met up with Lila and Dorian again. The sun was out, warm and bright against the city skyline. They sat at their usual café spot a hidden garden terrace that smelled of coffee and rain.

Lila was in her usual thrifted sundress, her dark curls pulled up messily. “So you got a death note from someone at the party,” she said, stirring her drink.

Hailey groaned. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Well, it’s true,” Lila said. “And maybe you should listen to it. Maybe it’s a sign.”

Dorian leaned back lazily, sunglasses on, one arm resting behind Hailey’s chair. “Or maybe it’s someone trying to stir drama. You know how these circles are. People hate when they can’t have what they want.”

Hailey sighed. “Either way, it’s not like I can walk away.”

Lila’s expression softened. “Then marry him. Get it over with. Maybe he’s not as bad as they say.”

Hailey turned sharply. “Excuse me?”

Lila raised her hands. “I’m just saying. Maybe you can survive it. You’ve handled worse.”

“Marry him?” Hailey repeated, voice rising. “You think I should tie myself to someone like that because it’s easier?”

“I think fighting your father is impossible,” Lila said quietly. “You know that.”

The table went silent for a moment. Dorian’s relaxed posture stiffened slightly. “Don’t tell her to marry him,” he said flatly.

“Then what?” Lila shot back. “Run away? You think her father wouldn’t drag her back by force?”

Dorian leaned forward, his voice sharp now. “She deserves better than being handed to a monster.”

“Better?” Lila snapped. “And what are you, Dorian? Another spoiled heir who plays savior between parties and scandals?”

He grinned humorlessly. “At least I’d never sell her.”

The air thickened between them, heat rising in Hailey’s chest. She hated when they fought especially about her. “Stop it,” she said, pushing back her chair. “Both of you.”

But they ignored her.

Dorian turned to her then, his jaw set, eyes suddenly serious. “Marry me instead.”

Hailey froze. “What?”

He leaned closer, tone softer now, almost pleading. “I mean it. I can protect you, Hailey. You don’t owe your father anything. Let me take care of it.”

Lila stared, stunned. “Dorian-...”

But he didn’t look away from Hailey. His hand reached across the table, brushing hers. “I’m not joking. You don’t belong in that man’s cage.”

For a long second, she just stared at him, the sounds of the café fading into the background. Her heart pounded, too fast, too heavy. She saw something in Dorian’s eyes she’d never seen before not playfulness, not teasing but something raw and Real.

Her phone pinged with a text.

WE NEED TO TALK ~S

Her blood ran cold.

Dorian noticed her expression shift. “Hailey? What is it?”

She looked up, her lips parting, but no words came out.

The air around them suddenly felt heavier, like the calm before a storm.