The scarred man's presence drew stares, but Darius ignored them. He guided him to a shadowed alcove away from the ballroom's glimmer and noise.
"You shouldn't be here," Darius said flatly.
The man grinned, the scar along his jaw pulling taut. "And yet, here I am. You've been hard to reach, King. Thought maybe you were avoiding me."
Darius didn't blink. "I was. You bring trouble, Rafael. Trouble I don't have time for."
Rafael leaned in, lowering his voice. "Time's the one thing you're running out of. The shipment goes south tomorrow unless you handle it. And if it does, you lose more than money — you lose your grip on this city."
Darius's hands tightened into fists at his sides. "I told you, I'm out of that business."
"You don't get to be 'out,'" Rafael said, smirking. "Not when there are people waiting to gut you and everyone under your protection. Including your… charming new wife."
At that, Darius's eyes went cold. "Leave her out of this."
"Can't. She's already in it. You paraded her here tonight, right into the lion's den." Rafael stepped back, glancing toward the ballroom. "You might want to tell her the truth before someone else does. This city loves a fresh target."
Before Darius could respond, Rafael melted into the crowd, vanishing as quickly as he'd appeared.
Darius stayed in the shadows a moment longer, jaw tight, mind turning. Rafael was right about one thing — Aria was now a piece on the board, whether she realized it or not. And in this game, pieces that weren't protected got taken.
When he finally returned to the table, Aria was alone. Vivienne was gone, but the faintest trace of her perfume lingered in the air.
Aria looked up at him, eyes sharp with questions he wasn't ready to answer. "Everything alright?" she asked.
Darius gave the smallest of nods. "For now."
It was a lie — and he could see from the way her gaze lingered on him that she knew it.