Chapter 4 Hunter Raw

"There are moments that divide time in half, before you saw her, and after."

The Steels knew how to throw a party.

Classy. Polished. Pretentious, but with enough liquor to make it tolerable.

I was nursing a whiskey, leaning against one of the white marble pillars of the ballroom, watching people do what they did best in this city, pretend.

Fake smiles. Shiny rings. Empty compliments.

It was like a mating ground for the wealthy and dead inside.

Jordan hadn't shown yet, and I figured he'd roll in late. He always did. Fashionably chaotic, devil-may-care. That was Jordan Steel.

Unfiltered. Untouched. Unfazed.

Adam was playing host well enough in a suit pressed, posture perfect, expression unreadable. But I could see it. That tightness in his jaw. That subtle detachment in his eyes. Man was locked in, but far from present.

I knew him.

I knew he hated every goddamn second of this engagement.

Charlotte was clinging to his arm like she owned it. But everyone knew better. She didn't own shit. Least of all his heart.

I took a sip of my drink just as I heard it. A low murmur behind me.

"Sweet Jesus."

Jordan.

I didn't have to turn to know he was there; his voice was unmistakable. That slow, dragged-out drawl of disbelief with a grin underneath.

But I did turn.

And I followed his line of sight.

That's when I saw her.

Fay Wolfgang.

And yeah, Jesus was right.

She walked in like the room wasn't even worthy. Black dress. Short, fluttering just above the knee, hugging her waist and flaring at her thighs like it was designed to ruin men.

Her hair was usually tied back or pinned in some chic, untouchable style. Not tonight. Tonight it was loose, wild, tumbling over one bare shoulder like a silk curtain kissed by sin.

Stilettos so high they were practically weapons.

Lips painted the color of blood and silence.

Eyes scanning the crowd like she was already bored of it.

She wasn't the kind of beautiful that made you stare.

She was the kind that made you forget how to breathe.

"Who's the sin that just walked in?" Jordan asked beside me, his voice casual, but his tone... hooked.

I snorted into my drink. "That, my friend, is probably the one woman you should stay the hell away from."

His brows lifted lazily. "That's an invitation if I ever heard one."

"No," I said firmly, cutting him a look. "That's a warning."

He leaned back slightly, arms folded, studying her with a gleam in his eye. "What's her name?"

"Fay Wolfgang."

"Wolfgang?" he repeated, as if tasting the syllables. "Sounds dangerous."

"She is."

He chuckled. "I like dangerous."

"Not this kind," I muttered. "She's got claws, teeth, and the brains to back it up."

Jordan narrowed his gaze slightly. "We've never met."

"You haven't," I confirmed. "She's not the social kind. Keeps things professional. Strategic. But she's..." I paused, searching for the word, "...different."

He watched her in silence, his expression unreadable now. That was the thing about Jordan. He didn't need to ask many questions. He watched. Listened. Assessed. Calculated.

"Is there anything between her and Adam?" he asked finally, still watching her like she was a puzzle he wanted to solve.

I sighed. "Not officially."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning," I said, lowering my voice, "she was his friend. A real one. Probably the only person who knew how to get under that ice in his chest. Everyone thought they'd end up together eventually."

"But?"

"He got Charlotte pregnant," I said dryly. "And Fay stepped back. Didn't make a scene. Didn't cry. Just... vanished from his life. She's been ghosting him since."

Jordan glanced at Adam, who stood stiffly by Charlotte, nodding at someone's speech with a half-hearted smile. Then he looked back at Fay.

"That's why he looks like he swallowed a shotgun."

"Yup."

Jordan whistled low. "Poor bastard."

"She didn't come to the rehearsal dinner," I added. "Made some excuse. We all thought she wouldn't show tonight either."

"But she did."

"Yeah. Probably because the Steels are family to her. Alexander, her brother, and Adam go way back. She couldn't dodge this one."

Jordan tilted his head slightly. "So she's here. Beautiful. Cold. Unbothered."

I looked at him. "You're planning something."

He smiled without smiling. "Just observing."

"Don't."

"Why not?"

"Because I know that look," I said flatly. "You're looking for trouble. And she's not someone you play games with."

"Good," he said softly. "I don't like games either."

"Jordan," I warned, but he was already walking away, slipping into the crowd with that easy, slow gait that made women turn and watch without realizing it.

He adjusted his cuff. Smoothed his already-ruffled hair.

Sin incarnate in a black suit.

He didn't even look back.

I exhaled sharply and tossed back the rest of my drink.

This was going to be a long night.