Chapter 4 - The Outstretched Hand
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Naya crossed the sprawling ballroom, the heels of her cheap shoes clicking faintly against the marble.
The invisible, suffocating circle of fear around Devan opened for her simply because she carried a bottle and wore an apron. She was the help. She was invisible.
She set the scotch on the pristine white tablecloth.
He did not look up.
“Leave it.”
His voice was roughened by a long, agonizing silence.
Naya reached for the silver water pitcher instead.
“I said leave it.”
“It’s water.”
His head lifted. His eyes were dark hazel, hard and sharp enough to make most people instinctively retreat.
Naya steadily poured the water.
“I am aware of what water is,” he said, his tone dripping with quiet menace.
“Good. Then we have one thing in common.”
Something shifted in his expression. Not amusement. Shock. People did not answer Devan Marshall back. They obeyed, lied, begged, or died.
Naya finished filling the glass and calmly wiped a ring of condensation from the table.
“My manager will yell at me if I don’t serve you.”
“I can buy your manager.”
“Please do. He’s exhausting.”
Devan stared at her, assessing her for the first time.
Across the ballroom, someone laughed again. The sound was sharp, mocking, and it came directly from the Rossi side of the room.
His hand tightened so violently around the wheelchair armrest that the leather creaked.
Naya followed his gaze to the musicians waiting beside the empty dance floor.
“They’re waiting for you,” she said quietly.
“Who?”
“The band. The guests.”
He looked back at her, his jaw clenching. “You are becoming dangerously comfortable.”
“You paid for music.”
“I paid for a wedding.”
“You still have six hundred witnesses and a dance floor.”
His eyes went dead cold.
“I am in a wheelchair.”
The words were quiet, bitter, and entirely lethal.
Naya set down her white cloth.
“Yes.”
His face hardened further. She continued before he could summon his guards to drag her away.
“You’re also alive.”
Silence widened between them. Naya nodded toward the smirking guests.
“They expect you to sit here until the humiliation becomes the only thing anyone remembers. If you let them, they win.”
“You have no idea who these people are.”
“No.”
“They would burn cities to embarrass me.”
“Then embarrassing them back seems reasonable.”
His mouth almost moved into a smile. Almost.
May you like
Naya stepped around the table. She walked directly into the empty space where Camilla’s chair should have been.
Then she held out her hand.
