The ballroom glittered under the crystal chandeliers, every corner filled with laughter, quiet deals, and the soft clinking of glasses.
Camille stood beside Dante, her back straight, her expression calm. On the outside she looked perfectly composed.
Inside, she was studying everything.
Every whisper.
Every glance.
Every person who looked at her like she didn't belong beside Dante Moretti.
She was used to judgment. High society thrived on it.
But tonight felt different.
Tonight they were watching her like a test.
And Camille Laurent had never enjoyed failing tests.
Dante's arm was still around her waist.
It wasn't tight.
It wasn't controlling.
But it was deliberate.
A silent message to the room.
Mine.
Camille pretended not to notice the warmth spreading from where his hand rested against her side.
"You're staring," she murmured quietly.
Dante didn't look at her.
"I'm observing."
"Same thing."
His thumb moved slightly against the fabric of her dress.
A small movement.
But enough to make her heartbeat stumble.
"You're doing well," he said.
Camille lifted a brow.
"I always do well."
Dante finally looked down at her.
"I'm aware."
Before she could reply, a voice cut through the air behind them.
"Well, well."
Camille turned.
Victor.
Of course.
Standing beside him was Elena, dressed in an elegant white gown, her smile sharp enough to cut glass.
Victor looked amused.
"Camille," he said smoothly. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Camille tilted her head.
"Why? Is the invitation only for people with loyalty issues?"
Elena's smile tightened.
Victor chuckled.
"Still sharp."
His eyes moved toward Dante.
"Moretti."
Dante nodded slightly.
"Ashford."
The tension between the two men was immediate.
Victor slipped a hand into his pocket casually.
"I have to admit, I was surprised when I heard about the marriage."
Camille folded her arms lightly.
"Most people were."
Victor's gaze slid over her slowly.
"You always did move on quickly."
The insult was subtle.
But it was there.
Camille opened her mouth.
Before she could respond, Dante spoke.
His voice calm.
Cold.
"My wife doesn't owe you explanations."
Victor's eyes flashed briefly.
"Oh, I wasn't asking for one."
Elena finally spoke then.
Her voice sweet.
Too sweet.
"We were just worried about Camille."
Camille laughed softly.
"Worried?"
"Yes," Elena said gently. "You made such a sudden decision. Marriage is a serious commitment."
Camille looked at her for a moment.
Then smiled slowly.
"You're right."
Elena seemed pleased.
Until Camille added,
"That's why it's important not to steal someone else's fiancé first."
A nearby group of guests suddenly became very interested in their drinks.
Victor's jaw tightened.
Elena's cheeks flushed slightly.
But Camille wasn't done.
She stepped closer.
Her voice soft but clear.
"Tell me something, Elena."
"Yes?"
"Was it worth it?"
Elena blinked.
"What?"
"Destroying family relationships for a man who couldn't even stay loyal to his first fiancée."
Victor stiffened.
Dante watched silently beside her.
His eyes dark with approval.
Elena recovered quickly.
"You seem very confident for someone in a contract marriage."
The words dropped like a bomb.
Several nearby guests froze.
Camille felt Dante's arm tighten around her waist slightly.
Victor smiled slowly.
"Ah," he said. "So the rumors reached you too."
Camille didn't react immediately.
Inside, anger flickered.
But she refused to let them see it.
Instead she laughed.
A calm, amused sound.
"Of course it's a contract marriage."
Victor looked surprised.
Elena blinked.
"What?"
Camille shrugged.
"Did you really think Dante married me because he was desperate?"
Dante's gaze slid toward her.
Interested.
Curious about where she was going.
Camille continued smoothly.
"Powerful people make strategic decisions all the time."
She gestured lightly toward the room.
"Half the marriages in this room probably started as business agreements."
Several guests shifted uncomfortably.
She smiled sweetly.
"The difference is that ours actually works."
Victor narrowed his eyes.
"And how exactly does it work?"
Camille turned slightly toward Dante.
Her hand lifted.
Resting lightly against his chest.
The contact surprised even her.
But she didn't pull away.
Instead she looked up at him.
Then back at Victor.
"Simple," she said.
"We respect each other."
Dante looked down at her.
For a moment the world around them faded.
Something passed between them.
Something quiet.
Something dangerous.
Victor scoffed.
"Respect?"
Camille nodded.
"Yes."
Then she added calmly,
"Which is more than I can say for my previous relationship."
Victor's expression hardened.
Before he could respond, Dante spoke again.
His voice lower now.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ashford."
The words sounded polite.
But the message was clear.
Leave.
Victor stared at them for a moment longer.
Then grabbed Elena's arm.
"Come on."
They walked away.
The moment they disappeared into the crowd, Camille exhaled slowly.
Her hand was still on Dante's chest.
She suddenly realized.
And pulled it back quickly.
"Sorry," she muttered.
Dante didn't respond immediately.
Instead he studied her face.
"You handled that well."
She crossed her arms again.
"I told you."
His gaze moved slowly over her.
"You're dangerous."
Camille smirked.
"You're just noticing?"
Dante's lips curved slightly.
But before he could reply, a loud voice echoed across the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen."
Everyone turned.
An older man stood on the stage near the center of the ballroom.
"Thank you all for attending tonight's investment gala."
Applause rippled through the crowd.
Camille leaned slightly toward Dante.
"Who's that?"
"Charles Harrington," he said quietly.
"The host."
The man continued speaking.
"Tonight we celebrate new partnerships and future opportunities."
Waiters began circulating with fresh drinks.
Camille accepted one absentmindedly.
As Harrington spoke, she noticed something strange.
People were watching her again.
More closely this time.
She leaned toward Dante.
"Why does it feel like everyone expects something to happen tonight?"
Dante's gaze scanned the room.
"They do."
Her stomach tightened.
"What do you mean?"
He lowered his voice.
"Someone here wants to challenge my company."
Camille frowned.
"So?"
"So tonight they'll try to embarrass me."
"And you brought me into this?"
His eyes flicked toward her.
"I trust you."
The words caught her off guard.
Camille blinked.
"You trust me?"
Dante nodded once.
"You don't break under pressure."
For a second she didn't know what to say.
No one had ever described her like that before.
Before the moment could stretch further, Harrington spoke again.
"And now," the host announced, "we will begin the investment discussion."
Several people moved toward a long table near the stage.
Dante extended his arm.
"Come."
Camille slipped her hand through it.
The warmth of his arm against hers felt unexpectedly steady.
As they walked forward together, whispers followed them.
But Camille kept her head high.
Let them watch.
Let them judge.
Let them try to tear her apart.
Because tonight they were going to learn something very important.
Camille Laurent wasn't the weak girl they remembered.
And standing beside Dante Moretti, she was even more dangerous than before.