Chapter 23
The evening of the charity gala transformed the Ashbourne estate into a blinding display of orchestrated opulence. Cascading crystal chandeliers cast a soft, golden warmth across the grand ballroom, completely devoid of any muddy yellow tint. The room hummed with the sophisticated chatter of the city's political and corporate elite.
Annie stood near the base of the sweeping marble staircase, looking breathtakingly beautiful in a sculpted sapphire evening gown. Heavy diamond earrings flashed against her jawline as she greeted the arriving guests with aristocratic grace.
Kieran stood a few paces away, a monument of lethal, masculine power in a flawless black tuxedo. His cold, unblinking eyes scanned the room, calculating every angle and blind spot.
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The heavy mahogany doors opened, and Viktor Markov stepped into the ballroom. He was a large, fair-skinned man with a shaved head and an arrogant, cruel smile, flanked by three massive bodyguards in ill-fitting suits. Markov did not respect the subtle etiquette of the American elite; he moved with the blunt force of a thug pretending to be a gentleman. He locked eyes with Annie and began marching directly toward her, entirely underestimating the woman he intended to exploit.
Kieran did not intervene. He remained perfectly still, watching his queen prepare to dismantle the Russian boss.
