Chapter 9 Ball

The car moved smoothly through the night, city lights casting flashes of gold and silver across Lucy's face. She stared out the window, her heart pounding and mind racing. The soft rustle of her silver dress filled the quiet space inside the car. Barry sat beside her, his hand resting lightly on hers, his thumb brushing her knuckles now and then.

She wished he wouldn't touch her.

From the corner of her eye, she could see his sharp black suit, the clean lines of his jacket, the cold strength in his jaw. He looked like a king on his way to claim his crown.

"You look worried." Barry said after a while, his voice low but clear.

Lucy didn't turn to him. "I'm not worried. I'm thinking." She muttered.

"About what?" His thumb kept stroking her hand. Slow and steady.

"About why I'm here. About what this night is for." Her voice was tight, as she chose her words carefully.

Barry smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're here because I want you here. That's reason enough." He stated.

Lucy bit her lip. "But what for? To be seen at your side? Like some trophy?" She asked, sadness evident in her voice.

His grip on her hand tightened just a little. "Don't say that."

"It's what it feels like." She stated.

Barry let go of her hand and leaned back, his face unreadable. "You think too much. Just enjoy the night."

Lucy crossed her arms over her chest and stared out at the street again. Ahead of them, another black car carried Barry's guards. She could see its red brake lights glowing in the dark.

'Easy for him to say' She thought bitterly. 'He's the one in control.'

***

When they reached the grand hall where the ball was held, Lucy stepped out of the car, and the cool night air hit her bare shoulders. The building in front of them was huge, with tall pillars and lights that made it glow like gold. The sound of soft music and voices floated out through the open doors.

Barry came around the car and offered his arm. Lucy hesitated but took it. His grip was firm, like he wasn't going to let her go. Together, they walked up the steps, their steps in time, his head held high and hers low.

Inside, the hall was even grander. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, filling the room with soft light. The floor was marble, smooth and shining. People in gowns and suits moved like shadows, voices mixing with the soft music of the string band.

Lucy felt small, out of place. She could feel the weight of every glance that fell on her as she entered with Barry. Some people stared openly. Others whispered behind gloved hands. She kept her chin up, but inside, her stomach twisted.

Barry guided her through the room, stopping now and then to greet people. His voice was smooth and almost polite. His charm, cold but powerful. Lucy stood beside him, smiling when she had to, but saying little. The air smelled of perfume, champagne, and polished wood.

Then she heard a woman's voice.

"So, where's your fiancée tonight, Barry?"

Lucy blinked. Fiancée?

Barry's face didn't change. He gave a small smile. "Not here tonight."

The woman laughed lightly. "A shame. I was hoping to meet her. You hide her so well."

Barry said nothing more, just moved on, guiding Lucy toward the long table where glasses of wine waited.

Lucy felt like the floor had dropped from under her. She grabbed a glass with shaking fingers and turned to him.

"You're engaged?" she asked, voice low but hard.

Barry didn't look at her right away. He took a sip of his drink, eyes on the crowd. "Does it matter?"

"Does it..." She stopped herself, breathing hard. "You tell me I belong to you. You say I'm yours. But you're going to marry someone else?" She asked.

Barry met her eyes at last. His gaze was cool, steady. "That's business."

Lucy stared at him in shock. "Business? You call that business? What am I then? A side game?"

He set his glass down and took a step closer, so close she could feel the heat of him. "You're mine, Lucy. That hasn't changed. That won't change. What I do for business is something else."

Lucy's heart raced with anger. Her hands shook, and she clenched them into fists. "You can't have it both ways. You can't claim me and promise yourself to someone else."

"I can do whatever I want," Barry said, his voice quiet but firm. "And don't raise your voice here. Not in front of these people."

Lucy bit down hard on her lip, trying to hold back the flood of words she wanted to throw at him. She hated the way he made her feel, trapped, small, powerless.

Barry leaned in close, his mouth near her ear. "Smile, Lucy. Everyone's watching."

And she did. A small, forced smile, just enough to hide the storm inside her.

But as she stood there, pretending, she felt a chill run down her spine. The fine hairs on her neck rose. She felt eyes on her, not the polite glances of the guests, but something else. Something sharp, dark and dangerous.

She looked around, her heart thudding. The faces blurred together, smiling, laughing, drinking. But the feeling stayed. Like a weight on her chest.

Barry noticed her tense. "What is it?"

"Someone's watching me," she said quietly, her eyes scanning the room.

He frowned, his eyes sharp now. "Where?"

"I don't know. I can't see who. But I feel it."

Barry straightened, his hand resting lightly on her back. He guided her toward a quieter corner of the hall. His guards, standing near the walls, seemed to stiffen, their eyes more alert.

"Stay close to me." Barry said, voice low.

Lucy nodded, but her heart still raced. The music, the lights, the voices, they all seemed far away now. All she could focus on was that cold, crawling feeling at the back of her neck.

Barry spoke with a few men who came over to greet him, but his eyes kept moving around, watching the room, looking for the source of the danger Lucy felt.

Lucy tried to calm herself. She took a deep breath, the scent of roses and wine filling her nose. But it didn't help. The feeling wouldn't leave.

She leaned towards Barry, her voice soft but urgent. "I want to leave."

"We can't leave yet," he said, glancing down at her. "It would look strange."

"I don't care," Lucy whispered. "Please."

Barry studied her face, saw the fear in her eyes. His jaw tightened. "Ten more minutes," he said. "Then we leave."