Chapter 11: The Dress and the Wall
The gown was a weapon.
Deep crimson. Backless. Cut to expose her collar and scar alike. Slit high enough to make walking feel like an invitation.
Evelyn stared at it in the mirror.
It wasn't hers.
It was sent by Damon.
A silent dare, wrapped in silk.
She wore it anyway.
Because if they wanted a monster—
They could choke on the fire.
—
Bryant said nothing when she entered the private banquet room.
Not at first.
But he looked.
Gods, he looked.
From the curve of her thigh to the bare skin across her spine, his jaw locked tighter with every step she took.
The room was otherwise empty.
Just them.
Wine. Two chairs. Low lighting.
And silence so thick it could be cut with her heels.
"You wore it," he said finally.
"I did."
"You know who sent it."
"I do."
He didn't speak.
Didn't sit.
Just moved toward her with that lethal calm, his eyes colder than ice and burning like fire.
She didn't step back.
"Take it off," he said.
"No."
"Take it off."
"I thought you liked obedience."
"Not when it's his."
And just like that—he grabbed her.
Not roughly.
Not cruelly.
But hard enough to shove her back against the wall in one fluid motion, his palm flat against the stone beside her head, his body too close, too hot, too furious.
"You don't get to let him dress you."
"I didn't know I belonged to you."
"You don't."
His voice was sharp.
But his hand—
It lifted.
Fingers brushing her bare collarbone, down the edge of the scar, slow and trembling.
"You make me forget what I own," he muttered.
She stared up at him.
Breathing fast.
Trembling, yes.
But not from fear.
From heat.
From proximity.
From power.
"Is that why you're shaking?" she asked.
"I'm not shaking."
"You are."
His fingers dug into the stone beside her.
Not her skin—
Not yet.
But gods, he was close.
"If I kiss you," he said, "I won't stop."
"Then don't start."
He looked like she'd slapped him.
But then—slowly—his eyes dropped to her mouth.
And lingered.
Too long.
Too full of something dangerous.
And then—
He pulled back.
Not because he wanted to.
But because he had to.
He turned away, hands clenched at his sides, voice ragged.
"Dinner's over."
Evelyn exhaled.
And only when the door closed behind him…
Did she let her legs finally give out?