“I need to return to my guests.” Lucian strolled past me, reeking of money and corruption in his sleek, tailored tuxedo. “When Amanda arrives, she’ll know where to find you.”

“I’ll be ready.” I lowered into an armchair and loosened my bow tie, letting it hang against my disheveled button-up.

The trap was simple. Lucian’s sister, Eva, would make sure Amanda overheard her gossiping about an argument between Tinsley and me, a fight that had sent Tinsley fleeing from the ball and me to this room in a rage.

In reality, Tinsley was waiting in Lucian’s office, surrounded by an army of guards. His and mine.

She was right down the hall. If anyone threatened her, Galen would text me, and I would be there within seconds.

“I’ll see you on the other side, student-fucker.” Lucian handed me a half-empty bottle of whiskey, wearing an evil grin.

The twisted prick wanted me to paint the walls of his den with blood.

He might get his wish.

In the week that had passed since learning about Amanda Herschel, I wasn’t feeling at all forgiving.

Impossible to forgive someone who intended to murder the love of my life.

After discovering who the threat was, I’d put all my time and resources into tracking her down. To no avail. She was still missing, and I was ninety-nine percent certain she wouldn’t show tonight.

That one percent chance, though? That brought me here, committed to this plan.

I longed to kill her with my bare hands.

As Lucian slipped into the hall, I drank from the whiskey bottle. Not to drown myself in booze, but to saturate my breath with it. Setting the bottle beside my foot, I unbuttoned my tuxedo jacket and settled in to play the part of a lonely, brooding man with no fucks to give.

Then I waited.

The orchestra played. Muffled laughter filled the air. The sound of footsteps. Inebriated voices. Goddamn holiday cheer. It was the time of year for family gatherings, for putting aside differences and making amends.

I used to celebrate Christmas Eve with prayer.

Now I was prepared to desecrate this holy night with vengeance.

I tried to imagine this going another way. I shut my eyes and pictured myself handing Amanda off to the authorities. Letting them determine her punishment. A prison sentence? That wasn’t enough.

I needed justice. My hands twitched. I needed blood. My pulse sped up. I needed her anguish. My throat burned. I needed…

Christ, I needed to chill the fuck out.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my rosary. My fingers moved on their own, sliding over the beads as the prayers streamed through my mind.

The words grounded me, shining warm light on my soul and chasing back the shadows.

And so I prayed as the minutes ticked toward an hour. I prayed until the sound of footsteps entered the room.