Florian's Pov;

The light was not a fan of mine—yes. It despised me the same way I despised it.

That’s why I buried myself in the shadows, an alcove inside the Kuznetsovas’ party lounge.

It was a perfect view from here. I could see every fucking thing that was happening.

The fake smiles, false pleasantries, and hidden motives.

The whole party reeked of lies and secrets.

I flicked my wrist, the sleeve of my tuxedo slipping a little. I lowered my gaze to the watch strapped around my wrist.

8 PM.

Still four fucking hours before the party came to an end.

Guess I’d have to bide my time a little more.

It then made me wonder how all these people could gather themselves in one setting and throw smiles and laughter when they knew deep within them that they hated each other.

It was a normal thing in our kind of life.

No true friend. No one you could trust. Not even your own blood.

It was inevitable.

How were they even breathing normally?

Just then, something interesting caught my eyes.

No one noticed her, but I did.

I always did.

Everyone was focused on forming stupid alliances.

I leaned back, my head on the wall as I tipped my chin further upward—the wall as support.

My arms tucked themselves between each other, my biceps flexed in my tight black suit.

My eyes glued to her.

Unnoticeably—just the way she preferred—she slipped in through the entrance.

Her gaze was roaming. Assessing.

She held on to her magnanimous gown as if she gripped it tight enough, it would materialize into something else and come to her rescue—like she knew she was going to need rescuing… from me.

I grinned at the thought, slowly rolling my head back and forth on the wall.

The red and blue lighting from the chandeliers cast reflections on the diamonds embedded in her dress, making it sparkle.

Its upper part hugged her chest so tight, I wondered if she was even fucking breathing.

I felt my brows narrow. She hated pink.

My frown darkened at that expression she always wore when she was among people.

One of the Kuznetsova’s sharp abilities—seemed not only the males possessed it.

She breathed. And I counted along. Out loud.

In.

“One.”

Out.

“Two.”

In.

“Three.”

Out.

I stopped lolling, inclining my head to the side. “Four.”

And then she stopped.

Her expression shifted, but I studied her.

Three damn months I had watched her—stalked her.

Yet, I still didn’t know what she was about—what she was made of.

But I knew her just enough. Just enough to know she preferred papers to human beings.

She was a vortex of emotions. It was tempting, but I wouldn’t risk being sucked in.

Right then, I watched as faint blue eyes zeroed in on a spot.

Without moving my head, I threw my gaze over to what might have snagged hers, unbothered.

Just a boring circle of men, gossiping like women—possibly the Pakhan’s men.

My attention returned lazily to her.

And she proceeded to do something I did not expect.

She walked over, grabbing a random drink along her path.

I released my hands from where I had them folded below my chest, dipping them into my pants pockets.

The sole of my left foot plastered to the wall of the alcove behind me.

The Kuznetsova princess made her way to them, stopping a few feet shy. She turned her back to them, the glass lifted but not kissing those red lips.

Pretty dark brows drawn tight.

I didn’t know why. But I grinned. Fucking. Damn. Wide.

I didn’t know what it was they whispered about. But I knew it was bad news.

They were too late already. Because I was fucking here. And they were going to fucking pay.

Their worst nightmare yet.

I loved the expression her face morphed into… horror was such a good look on her.

It gave me imaginations.

And then she was pacing away.

I trailed her, my eyes never leaving her petite figure—oh, how crushable she was.

My fingers flexed in my pockets.

She stopped. Scared, frosty eyes scanned the entire large space.

A knowledge dawning on her.

“Smart.” The corner of my lips lifted predatorily.

Her eyes landed on mine.

Except, she couldn’t see me. The contrasting lights made it difficult to.

I was one with the dark. I had always been.

But she knew. She knew I was in here—someone, at least. She was certain.

And then she did the wise thing. She ran.

“But I’ll catch you, princess,” I muttered to myself.

The broken part of me excited for the hunt.

Here came the fun part.

The tip of my black boot caught the light as I attempted to step out. However, my elbow was immediately snagged backward.

My chest sparked with curiosity of who wanted to meet their maker so soon.

I snapped my head over my shoulder. It was Valon.

The only one of my men I had brought with me.

I had barely noticed him—that’s why he was by my side.

“Sir, you shouldn’t.” His Albanian tongue not straying.

My eyes narrowed at him. Head tilting to the side. I glared at his hand around my right elbow. And he immediately let it go like it scalded him.

Valon was merely protecting me. I was in the Kuznetsova territory. If I was spotted, then it was over.

The Kryetar would take my life before the Russians ever had the chance to.

But that would never happen.

I felt the blood in my veins simmer.

I’d like to see them try.

I stepped out from the hidden spot. Trudging through the midst of the enemies like it was my father’s stronghold.

My eyes dead set on where the enemy’s daughter had just fled.