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"Why?" Yunah's voice was a mere whisper, hanging in the air between them.
Noah opened his mouth to answer, the weight of years of secrets behind his eyes, but Ashish's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Master, we have arrived," Ashish announced with a respectful bow.
"Hmm." Noah brushed the interruption aside, rising from the velvet couch with effortless grace. He turned to Yunah, a bold, dangerous light dancing in his masked eyes. "Then, my 'wife'... shall we?" He extended his hand, palm up, an unspoken command wrapped in an invitation.
Yunah's heart didn't just skip; it stumbled. The word wife felt heavy, sending a jolt through her system. She stared at his hand for several long seconds, her reluctance warring with the magnetic pull he exerted, before finally placing her smaller hand in his.
The moment their skin met, Noah didn't just hold her hand—he adjusted his grip, intertwining their fingers until they were locked together. "Now, that's better," he murmured. It sounded less like an explanation for her and more like a private confession to himself as he looked down at their joined hands. Her fingers fit perfectly between his, as if they had been carved from the same stone, belonging nowhere else but there.
Gently, he pulled her to her feet. Then, to the absolute shock of Ashish, the man who forced the world to bow before him sank to one knee. Noah knelt before Yunah, his movements fluid as he adjusted the hem of her gown, ensuring the silk draped perfectly. In the dim light of the cabin, he looked like a dark knight swearing fealty to his queen. Ashish's eyes widened; the sight was beautiful, but the devotion behind it was terrifyingly dangerous.
"Done," Noah said, rising and meeting her gaze with a softness that felt like a physical touch.
"I... I could have done that myself. But thank you," she stammered, her voice breathy. As the yacht groaned against the dock, she looked toward the dark shoreline. "So, we're here?"
"Hmm." Noah nodded, his grip on her hand tightening protectively as he guided her off the vessel.
As they stepped onto the island, the fine, white sand proved treacherous for her stilettos. Her heels sank with every step, making her stumble. Without a word of warning, Noah reached down and swept her into his arms. He lifted her as if she were made of nothing but air and feathers, his stride never breaking.
"Put me down! I can walk!" she protested, her hands instinctively grabbing his shoulders. She tried to squirm, but his hold was a silken vice—unyielding and absolute. He ignored her completely, his eyes focused on the path ahead.
"I know you can," he replied flatly, a hint of mockery dancing in his voice. "But at your current pace, the gala will be over by the time we reach the gates. I'm taking you to a party tonight, not a sunrise."
"How much further?" she asked, her face flushing as she looked ahead. He only set her down when they reached a marble-paved walkway illuminated by antique street lamps.
"Not far now," he said. He caught her hand again just as another masked group emerged from the shadows. Noah's entire posture shifted instantly. He stepped forward, placing his body firmly between Yunah and the strangers, shielding her from their sight. It was a silent, predatory declaration: She is mine, and she is under my protection.
The men passing by felt the sudden, suffocating drop in temperature. Intimidated by his sheer possessive aura, they didn't dare even glance in Yunah's direction, keeping their eyes fixed on the path until they were gone.
Once they were alone again, Noah's shoulders relaxed slightly, and he turned back to her. "Let's go. And listen to me—stay by my side. Do not speak to anyone else. In this place, no one is 'good.' Everyone here carries a heart of rot... even me." He paused, his voice dropping to a low, weighted whisper. "But there is a difference between them and me. I will never harm you. I will protect you. They will not. So, no matter what happens, do not leave my side. Do you understand?"
"O-okay," Yunah nodded, her voice trembling. She realized then that she no longer had a choice. In this den of vipers, Noah was the only thing standing between her and the dark.
****
The massive wooden doors groaned open as the guards stepped aside, and Noah and Yunah crossed the threshold. Their entrance was magnetic; even in a room full of the world's elite, they commanded the air. Noah walked with a terrifyingly sharp confidence, his aura impossible to ignore. Yunah clung to his arm, her silk gown whispering against the floor as they moved in perfect unison, turning every head in the grand hall.
Inside, the hall was a spectacle of light and gold, resembling a royal palace more than a gala. A massive crystal chandelier hung like a frozen explosion above them, raining light down onto the marble. The scent of expensive lilies clung to the air, winding through the staircases and draped along the walls. The guests were a blur of masks and hushed chattering, discussing power plays and fortunes that Yunah couldn't begin to fathom. For a moment, she felt like an intruder—a girl from a different world who had accidentally stepped into a lion's den.
Sensing her hesitation, Noah felt her grip tighten on his sleeve. He leaned down, his voice a ghost of a whisper near her ear. "It's okay. I'm right here."
The warmth in his voice acted like a sedative, easing the tension in her fingers. Just as she began to relax, a group of older masked men began to navigate through the crowd toward them.
"Hello, Mr...?" the leader of the group asked, raising a wine glass in a confident greeting.
"Arthur," Noah replied, his voice firm as he accepted a handshake.
Yunah moved to step back, wanting to give them space for their business talk, but Noah wouldn't let her. Before she could retreat, he caught her hand and intertwined their fingers, locking her to his side. He didn't even look at her as he did it; he just kept his focus on the men while holding her hand with a possessive, unyielding grip.
The man in the white mask noticed. He gestured with his glass toward their locked hands. "It seems you love your wife very much, Mr. Arthur."
Noah looked down at their joined hands, then shifted his gaze to Yunah. He didn't hesitate. "Yes," he agreed, his voice dropping into a deep, honest register. "I love my wife very much."
The words hit Yunah like a physical force. Her heart thundered, and a deep flush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks red behind the mask. Noah felt her hand tremble in his and smirked, clearly savoring her reaction.
But the moment was shattered by a figure appearing at the top of the grand staircase.
A young man in a sharp black suit descended, his hair perfectly coiffed, a golden lighter flickering rhythmically in his hand. He radiated a dark, manufactured charm. As he reached the bottom, a guest hurried toward him with a glass of wine, a sycophant's grin plastered on his face.
"Mr. Jay! What a pleasure to see you here..." the guest chirped.
The name echoed through the hall, hitting Yunah like a bolt of lightning. Her head snapped toward the man on the stairs, then back to the man standing beside her—the man she had called Jay for weeks. Doubt flooded her mind, cold and sharp. She realized then that she had never actually seen Jay's face. She only knew a voice and a shadow.
She yanked her hand out of Noah's grip. "I need to use the washroom," she said, her voice tight. She didn't wait for a response, turning and walking away toward the shadowed hallway.
Noah didn't hesitate. He excused himself and followed her, his strides long and predatory. He caught up to her in the dim corridor, his hand flashing out to grab her wrist. With a swift, controlled movement, he pinned her against the cold stone wall, his arms locking on either side of her head, caging her in.
He leaned down, his shadow falling over her as he stared into her eyes.
"Speak," Noah commanded, his voice dropping into a lethal, deep bass. "Don't hold back. Ask me what you want to ask."
Yunah looked up at him. The fear was gone, replaced by a searing, icy resolve. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady. "Tell me... who are you really?"
