Chapter 211: You
Christopher moved through the glittering crowd, tray balanced easily against his palm, the soft glow of phone screens and the whir of discreet cameras mixing with candlelight and crystal.
He’d done this before: private galas, high‑profile fundraisers, late‑night embassy dinners, blending in, making himself invisible as long as glasses stayed full and no one waited too long for anything. He could do this in his sleep.
And tonight, he needed to.
’Act normal. Just act normal.’
His dark eyes flicked, just once, toward the raised platform at the end of the hall, toward the man lounging with unshakable ease in a tailored midnight suit. Dax, King of Saha, didn’t appear to be looking his way anymore. He was speaking to a cluster of foreign dignitaries, his hand idly resting on the arm of his chair, a faint smile playing on his mouth.
Not with hunger. Not with pursuit.
’Good. That’s exactly what I want.’
Christopher kept moving, weaving through tuxedos and couture gowns, topping off champagne flutes with practiced ease. He kept his posture loose, his expression calm, and every motion smooth and professional even as adrenaline hummed through him.
He’ll see the file, Christopher told himself, gripping that thought like an anchor. Some aide will bring him the registry, it’ll say exactly what it’s always said: Christopher Malek, beta. No flags, no alerts, no affiliations. He’ll mark it down as a mistake. A mix‑up in a hall packed with scents.
And there were a hundred scents tonight, more than that.