The walls of the lavish restaurant seemed to close in on Annalise as she clenched her hand under the silk-covered table. The air was saturated with the scent of aged wine, lavender polish on the wooden panels, and the faint perfume of roses from the gold-trimmed vases. A low hum of classical music floated from the ceiling, barely covering the sound of clinking cutlery and murmured conversations from distant tables.
She sat stiffly, her breath shallow, back pressed straight against the upholstered velvet seat. The white gloves on her hands hid the tension in her fingers, knuckles pale from how hard she gripped herself. Her sapphire-blue gown glimmered under the soft chandelier light, a haunting contrast to the turmoil twisting her stomach.
Moments after, as she had dreaded, the doors opened with a soft whoosh.
Dragnok Valtore entered first—Caden's father. Broad-shouldered, severe-eyed, and silent, he had the air of a man used to commanding armies. Beside him walked Mella, Caden's stepmother, her expression calculating behind a flawless face and cascading brunette curls. Lilith came last, her blood-red dress hugging her frame with practiced elegance, her eyes trailing arrogantly over the room—until they landed on Annalise.
They all settled in their chairs with an ease that made Annalise feel like she was drowning. Even Lilith and Mella, with all their beauty and pride, couldn't seem to take their eyes off her. Annalise could feel their stares like pinpricks against her skin.
She didn't meet their gazes.
She didn't want to.
She didn't want to be here at all.
But her body played the part her father had demanded. Straight posture. Quiet elegance. Obedient daughter.
The next sound made her heart stop.
Footsteps. Heavy. Confident.
The grand double doors parted again. And then—first came the man with a silver cane and a commanding aura: Caden's grandfather. A living legend, some called him, with eyes like frozen metal and a presence that could silence the dead.
But behind him— oh.
Behind him was the man that made Annalise forget how to breathe.
Caden Valtore.
He entered like he owned the world. His suit was midnight black, tailored so finely it looked sculpted to his frame. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing the firm line of his chest and a hint of a black tattoo curling up from beneath. His inky black hair was swept to the side, effortlessly tousled. A single gold earring gleamed in his left ear. He looked like a prince. A predator. A secret the world hadn't earned.
And she couldn't believe.
That he wasn't human but a Vampire , a night creature .
And she was supposed to kill him. How absurd .
Her breath faltered.
His dark eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on each face—before flicking past her.
Annalise's heart dropped.
She had promised herself she wouldn't look at him. She wouldn't be one of those girls who melted under a man's gaze. But when she felt that intense awareness—like fire crawling up her spine—she couldn't stop her head from lifting.
And their eyes met.
Her pulse thudded.
He was more beautiful than she remembered. Sharper. Wilder. Danger cloaked in a suit.
He looked at her like he knew.
Knew her secrets. Knew her lies. Knew her.
And then, just as quickly, he looked away and walked to the head of the table. His chair scraped softly against the polished floor as he sat, the final piece of the royal image falling into place.
Constencia, seated with graceful poise, smiled in satisfaction, her silver hair gleaming beneath the golden chandelier. Her gaze flicked between her grandson and Annalise with amusement.
Caden's grandfather nodded slightly, clearly pleased.
Annalise, however, was dying inside.
She was sweating under layers of silk and diamonds, her skin prickling with nerves. The thought of her mission felt impossible now. Her father wanted her to get close to Caden. Gain his trust. And then take his heart.
Literally.
Aston needed Caden's heart for something only he understood. Something about living longer. Annalise hadn't even asked questions. She didn't want to know.
How could she kill a man like this?
No—not a man.
A vampire.
A god, hidden in flesh.
The tension was unbearable.
Lilith, desperate to break it, cleared her throat loudly.
"I'm so happy this day is finally here. That my cousin Caden is finally getting married."
The smile she wore was warm which eased ghe tension.
Everyone responded with polite laughter, some genuine, some not. Annalise could barely move. Her throat felt tight.
The waitresses entered then, dressed in crisp black uniforms with white gloves. They carried silver trays topped with delicate porcelain dishes, each one holding artfully plated food: roasted duck glazed with orange and honey, seared scallops in truffle cream, steamed vegetables in fragrant garlic butter.
The scent alone should have made her hungry.
It didn't.
She barely touched her cutlery as a glass of sparkling champagne was placed before her.
Aston finally smiled and decided to talk. His voice was deep, practiced, like someone who enjoyed commanding attention when it wasn't his to take.
"This is my first daughter," he said, gesturing toward Wendy with an air of importance, as if introducing a royal heir.
Wendy's cheeks lit up in bashful red. She tucked her hair behind her ear, glancing shyly at Caden as if trying to catch his gaze—only to realize it wasn't hers he was watching.
Caden's eyes, sharp and amused, were pinned on someone else.
Annalise.
She could feel it. Like a prickling heat behind her ear. She gripped her cutlery a little too hard, the metal pressing into her palm, cold and unyielding. She wanted to glare back and tell him to stop, that she wasn't some painting he could stare at, but her body refused to move. Her pride folded itself into her bones, leaving her paralyzed under his scrutiny.
"And this is Annalise," Aston added, almost like an afterthought.
He didn't bother hiding the irritation in his voice, like she was an accessory he was forced to bring to an auction.
Caden's grin spread like silk across his lips.
Annalise didn't react. Not a smile, not even a blink.
Dead silence.
Aston, flustered, stomped her foot under the table in warning—hard enough to sting. She inhaled sharply and finally lifted her head, forcing a smile that looked like it had been stitched onto her face.
Caden leaned forward ever so slightly and chuckled—low and mocking.
"Ah, there it is," he drawled with a smirk. "I was beginning to think the pretty doll didn't come with a smile setting."
Annalise's stomach flipped. Her eyes burned, but she held the smile—barely.
Mella scoffed so loud it echoed off the polished walls of the restaurant. She didn't bother whispering.
"She's so disrespectful," Mella spat, narrowing her eyes at Annalise like she was something stuck to the bottom of her heel.
Good, Annalise thought. Let them think I'm the worst thing to ever enter their lives. She needed them to believe that. If they did, they'd never suspect her true purpose.
Forgive her, Mella," Alessandra interjected quickly, laughing awkwardly. "Annalise is just… shy."
Mella rolled her eyes in a full, dramatic arc, looking like she'd rather chew glass than tolerate another minute of this dinner.
Meanwhile, Annalise was calculating.
If she wanted an excuse to escape—if she wanted to think, to breathe, to plan—she needed a reason to leave the table. A distraction.
Then it hit her. Without a second thought, she "accidentally" knocked over her glass of red wine. It spilled straight onto her pale satin dress, the liquid soaking through the fabric like fresh blood.
Gasps erupted around the table.
"Oh my—" Alessandra reached forward.
Annalise stood up quickly, clutching the stained hem. The rich red spread across her lap like a blooming wound.
"A mistake," she gasped. "I'm sorry."
Caden's brows lifted with amused disbelief. He tilted his head, studying her.
"How convenient," he said lazily, crossing his arms. "I never imagined my bride-to-be would stage her own wine massacre in public. How… creative."
Annalise's cheeks flushed, though from embarrassment or anger, even she didn't know.
"I'll go clean it," she muttered quickly, barely making eye contact.
Caden rested his cheek on one knuckle, the faintest curl of his lip still present.
"Careful in there, darling," he called after her as she began to walk away. "Wouldn't want you to drown in the sink."
His sarcasm laced with mock affection made several people chuckle, though most tried to pretend they didn't hear it.
Lilith, who had barely taken a proper look at Annalise while she sat, finally noticed her full frame as she stood. Her eyes widened, mouth slightly open.
"Damn," Lilith whispered under her breath. "This girl is beautiful."
Annalise heard it but didn't react.
The servants began to move, ready to assist her to the restroom, when Constencia interrupted.
"The servants will help you—"
"I can't let my future wife suffer so I'll do you the honor" a voice cut in.
Silence fell like a hammer.
All heads turned toward the source.
Caden was already standing,with a grin on his lips.