The Holt Holdings Anniversary Gala was a spectacle of excess.
Crystal chandeliers. Endless champagne. People dressed like royalty, pretending not to watch each other watching.
Emery stood near the bar in a sleek black gown that hugged her curves and bared her shoulders - elegant, restrained… and suffocating.
Across the room, Beckett stood in black-on-black, no tie again.
He looked like a shadow that didn't belong in this world of glitter and grins.
He wasn't supposed to be here tonight.
But neither was she - not really. She wasn't part of this world. She was a product of it.
Their eyes met once. Briefly. But it was enough.
Later That Night
The string quartet shifted into something softer. Slower. Romantic.
Grayson was nowhere in sight - likely making connections, shaking hands, buying people with promises.
Beckett approached her slowly.
"Dance with me," he said.
It wasn't a question.
Emery's breath caught. "Someone will see."
"I don't care."
"You should."
"I don't."
He extended his hand.
She hesitated - then took it.
His palm was warm, fingers steady as he led her onto the floor. They weren't the only pair dancing, but in her mind, the room emptied. No noise. No music. Just his hand on her waist and her body melting into his.
His touch was barely there - fingers at the curve of her spine, not even pressing, just present.
Their eyes locked. Too long. Too intense.
He leaned closer, voice brushing her ear. "Tell me to stop."
She didn't.
His thumb traced a slow, dangerous line along her back.
"Emery…" he said her name like a sin.
"Don't," she whispered. "Please don't make this harder."
"I'm already making it worse."
She pulled back slightly - just enough to breathe.
"Then stop."
"I can't."
His hand tightened on her waist - not possessive, but anchored.
"Say the word," he murmured, "and I'll walk away."
She looked up at him, heart hammering in her chest.
"I don't want you to."
That was the moment.
The one they'd never forget.
The one where if he leaned in just a little closer, they would've burned the whole world down.
But he didn't.
Instead, he pulled away, gently letting go of her hand.
"Then I will," he said quietly. "Because you deserve someone who can touch you without breaking you."
And he walked off the dance floor like he hadn't just shattered her in the softest way possible.