Victor swats at her hand until she drops the material. “Darling, if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” The cliché line is delivered in a mockingly slow drawl, and the circle of people laugh.

Everyone except for me because while they were fawning over my dress, I was staring up at Emmett on the second-story landing. His arrival brings with it a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. He stands at the top stair, wearing a classically tailored tuxedo over a black dress shirt. Even from a distance, I can see his black mask is inscribed with swirls of silver leaf. Without meaning to, we’ve dressed like polar opposites. Light and dark. Good and evil.

His eyes sweep the crowd, and unlike when I stood in his spot, surveying everyone with equal measure, he seems to be on the hunt for someone right up until his gaze settles on me. My heart plummets in my chest as he slowly begins his descent down the stairs, never taking his eyes off me. With every breath, my chest strains against my corset. My hand instinctively comes to press against my stomach, where a tight knot has already formed.

There is such a thing as a man who was born to wear a tuxedo…a man whose presence feels like a demigod has deigned to come down and pay a visit to his loyal subjects…a man who seems to control the hearts of every person in this room, including mine.

I almost resent him. Almost.

I see what he’s trying to do. He cuts through the crowd, winding a path directly toward me, and though I feel the surge of excitement at having his attention so clearly aimed at me, I know I can’t stand here and let this play out.

Though I haven’t seen them yet, I know Royce and my grandmother are here. Emmett and I have misbehaved all week, and I won’t allow us to continue. Going down to the pier was my mistake, but outside of that, my hands are mostly clean, and I’d like to keep it that way.

“I’m going to get more champagne,” I tell the group, though it’s useless. Like me, they’ve turned to watch the devil stroll into the room, their breaths bated, their lips parted in wonder.

What a fool we all are for a man who wants nothing more than to play us like pawns.

My exit was a sham—I don’t need more champagne. I still have a mostly filled glass, but as I turn my back on Emmett, I down it in one swift swallow and pass it off to a nearby waiter.

“Another?” the man asks gently.

I accept a new glass with a shaky hand and swallow down another long sip. I’m tempted to drink the whole thing, but I’d be left with nothing but a headache.

Even though the ballroom is crowded, it feels like I can’t put nearly enough people between Emmett and me. I look for my grandmother, but I don’t see her. I should have asked Victor where she was when I had the chance.