Chapter 46: The Dance

The ballroom had gone still.

Mindy stood at the edge of the crowd, her gaze locked on the man who had just entered. Matthias King. The name alone carried weight—half legend, half warning. Every whisper in the room seemed to circle back to him.

He was the center of gravity now, the point around which every conversation faltered. Men straightened their ties. Women adjusted their smiles. But when Matthias’s eyes swept across the room, no one dared meet them. Every glance that brushed against his was quickly averted, as if looking too long might invite misfortune.

That was the rumor, after all.

The devil himself had walked into the gala.

But Mindy didn’t look away.

Her gaze held steady, calm and unflinching. The distance between them was filled with murmurs and music, but it felt like silence. For a heartbeat, the entire ballroom faded, leaving only the two of them—her in crimson, him in black.

Matthias noticed.

His eyes, sharp and assessing, lingered on her longer than they should have. Most people looked at him with fear or fascination. She looked at him like an equal.

He tilted his head slightly, intrigued.

Neither of them broke the stare.

"Interesting," he murmured, just loud enough for Dante and Zac to hear.

Dante’s brows lifted a fraction, the only sign of surprise he ever allowed himself.

Matthias King never commented on anyone. He never smiled at galas. He never stared at a woman this long.

Zac leaned closer, voice low. "Did you just—smile?"

Matthias didn’t answer. His gaze had already drifted back toward the crowd, but his mind wasn’t on the people around him. It was on the woman in crimson who hadn’t looked away.

Dante followed his line of sight, studying Mindy for a moment. "She’s not afraid of you."

Matthias’s jaw tightened beneath the mask. "No."

"Most are."

"I know."

He said nothing more.

Zac Turner nearly choked on his drink.

"Oh God. Oh God. That’s Mindy Wilson," he whispered, elbowing Dante. "She just won the Bright Design Competition. It was insane. She’s incredible."

Dante didn’t even glance at him. "Focus."

But Zac was already lost in his own excitement. "Her Genesis gown was crazy. You should’ve seen how she handled her step-sister. It was like a soap opera—slap after slap, verbal and emotional. I swear, I’ve never seen anything like it."

Dante sighed. "Would you stop fanboying? We’re here on business."

Zac blinked, caught mid-ramble. "Right. Business. Of course."

"Maybe stop watching so much television," Dante muttered.

Zac glared at him. "You’re just jealous you didn’t see it live."

Matthias didn’t comment. His attention had already shifted back to the woman in red who hadn’t looked away.

A ripple of movement broke the tension as Leon Marley, the head of Maxine Magazine, approached Matthias with a practiced smile.

"Mr. King," Leon greeted warmly, extending a hand. "What an honor to have you here tonight. We weren’t expecting you."

Matthias shook his hand, polite but distant. "I prefer to keep my schedule quiet."

Around them, the whispers grew louder. No one had known he would attend. No wonder the security had been doubled.

But why was he here?

Zac and Dante stood slightly behind him, their posture deceptively relaxed. Anyone paying close attention would notice the subtle tension in their shoulders, the way their eyes scanned the room. They weren’t just here for business.

Something else was in play.

Mindy watched them carefully from across the ballroom. Her gaze flicked to Leon Marley, who was still speaking animatedly to Matthias. The head of Maxine Magazine—of course he would be the one to greet him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp voice beside her.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Layton’s tone cut through the noise like a blade.

Mindy turned her head slowly, her expression unreadable. "Oh. You’re still here."

His jaw tightened. "Mindy—"

"I don’t want to listen to anything you say."

Layton’s voice dropped, low and deliberate. "You’re still married. Remember that."

Mindy gave a short, humorless laugh. "Married?"

Before she could say more, Wade’s voice slid in, smooth and sharp. "If you don’t remember it, why should she? Maybe look at the woman hanging off your arm. Everyone here already thinks she’s your wife. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the same."

Layton’s glare snapped toward him. "Who are you to say anything about us?"

Mindy’s tone was cool. "He can say whatever he wants. Everything he said is a fact."

Ana, standing nearby, raised her glass. "Cheers to that."

Mindy turned away before Layton could respond. She didn’t need to waste another breath. She walked toward the bar, her gown trailing behind her like a streak of fire.

Layton watched her go, something twisting in his chest. The way she had looked at Matthias King—steady, fearless—had unsettled him. It felt like watching something precious slip through his fingers, something he hadn’t realized he was still holding.

Missy tugged lightly at his arm, her voice soft. "Layton?"

He didn’t answer.

The host’s voice rose above the chatter.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Leon Marley announced from the stage, "thank you for joining us tonight. As you know, Maxine Magazine is preparing for our annual design portfolio—a celebration of creativity, innovation, and artistry. We are honored to have so many talented individuals here this evening."

Polite applause followed.

Leon smiled, his tone warm and confident. "And tonight, we are especially privileged to welcome Mr. Matthias King to Greendale."

The crowd turned toward Matthias, who inclined his head slightly.

Leon continued, "Now, let’s begin the evening properly. Please, join us on the floor for the first dance."

The orchestra shifted into a soft waltz. Couples began to move toward the center of the ballroom, laughter and conversation filling the air once more.

At the bar, Mindy sipped her champagne, her eyes still following Matthias from a distance.

Zac lasted all of thirty seconds before he broke.

"I can’t take it anymore," he muttered, setting down his glass. "I’m going over there."

Dante groaned. "Zac—"

But Zac was already walking toward the bar, his grin wide and unguarded. Matthias and Dante exchanged a look, then followed.

Mindy noticed them approaching. She straightened slightly, her expression composed.

"Miss Wilson," Zac said, his voice full of genuine admiration. "I’m Zac Turner. I just wanted to say—it’s an honor to meet you. I watched the Bright Design Competition live. You were incredible."

Mindy blinked, surprised. "Thank you."

"I was one of the people commenting during the stream," Zac continued enthusiastically. "Rooting for you the whole time."

Dante sighed and rubbed his forehead. "He’s serious. He hasn’t shut up about it since."

Matthias shook his head, amused.

Ana, who had drifted closer, laughed. "Hey! Me too! I was in that chat, arguing with people who were defending that thief. I was the one shutting them up."

Mindy gave a small laugh, the tension in her shoulders easing. "I appreciate the support."

Wade chuckled quietly beside her.

Zac and Ana launched into a lively discussion about the competition—how Missy had cried, how Mindy had dismantled her with calm precision, how the audience had erupted. Their voices overlapped, full of energy and mischief.

For a moment, it felt almost normal.

When the laughter subsided, Matthias stepped forward.

"Matthias King," he said simply, his voice low, clipped, and cold.

Mindy smiled politely, her tone light. "Who doesn’t know you, Mr. King?"

He arched a brow, the faintest trace of irony in his voice. "I hope all good things."

"Not at all."

For a heartbeat, silence.

Then, to everyone’s astonishment, Matthias King laughed.

It wasn’t the sharp, humorless sound his associates sometimes heard in meetings. It was deep, genuine, startlingly human. The sound drew curious glances from nearby guests.

Dante Mark and Zac Turner, standing a few paces behind him, froze.

Zac blinked. "Did he just—"

"Laugh?" Dante finished quietly. "Yes."

Matthias’s laughter faded into a faint smile—real, unguarded. "No one’s ever been that honest," he said.

"I don’t see the point in pretending," Mindy replied.

He studied her, the silver mask catching the light. "Most people pretend around me. It’s safer."

"I’m not most people."

"No," he agreed softly, something shifting in his expression. "You’re not."

For the first time in years, the coldness in his eyes eased.

Dante leaned toward Zac. "He’s smiling."

Something flickered in his eyes—amusement, maybe respect.

Then, with a glint of challenge, he extended his hand.

"Dance with me."

Mindy hesitated only a moment before placing her hand in his.

"All right."

The crowd parted as they stepped onto the dance floor. Whispers rippled through the guests.

"Why would she dance with him?"

"Doesn’t she see his face?"

"I heard the burns are awful."

Matthias heard them all. His jaw tightened, the familiar chill creeping back.

Then Mindy’s fingers brushed his lightly, a small, grounding gesture.

When he looked at her, she was smiling—genuine, unbothered.

The coldness melted again.

The orchestra began a slow waltz. His hand rested lightly at her waist, his movements precise, controlled. She followed effortlessly, her crimson gown flowing like liquid flame.

For the first time in years, Matthias King felt comfortable.

"No normal woman would have agreed to dance with me," he said, his tone half teasing.

"Who said I’m normal?"

He laughed again, low and genuine.

"You’re not afraid of me."

"Should I be?"

"Everyone else is."

"Maybe they don’t know you’re just a man," she said lightly. "A dangerous one, but still just a man."

Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe relief.

"You see too much."

"Or maybe you hide too little."

He smiled at that, a real smile that softened the sharp edges of his face.

As they moved, Mindy’s thoughts drifted.

She remembered another night, another life—the cold water closing over her head, the panic, the darkness. Layton swimming toward Missy, leaving her to drown.

And then Matthias King, the stranger with the silver mask, pulling her from the water, asking if she was all right.

He had been the only one who reached for her when everyone else turned away.

Her smile deepened, filled with quiet gratitude.

Around them, whispers continued.

"She’s smiling at him."

"Like she doesn’t even notice the mask."

"She must be pretending."

Matthias heard the words, his jaw tightening again.

"Ignore them," Mindy said quietly.

He looked at her.

"They don’t matter," she added simply.

Across the room, Layton watched, his expression darkening with every passing second. Missy tried to distract him, but his eyes never left the couple on the floor.

Wade and Dante stood near the bar, both alert despite the calm surface of the evening.

Raymond, from across the hall, had also noticed. His brows furrowed as he watched his daughter dance with the most dangerous man in the room.

Matthias’s voice broke the silence between them.

"Zac’s been your fan since the competition. He hasn’t stopped talking about you since he saw you here."

Mindy smiled faintly.

"He has great taste and He seems nice."

"He is," Matthias said. "He just talks freely."

"I like people like that," Mindy replied. "They usually make good friends."

Matthias raised an eyebrow, a faint smile appearing on his face. "He is!"

Mindy nodded. "Yes. At least you always know what they’re thinking."

They moved in perfect rhythm, their steps smooth and unhurried. Around them, other couples twirled and laughed, but the air between them felt different—charged, deliberate, dangerous.

"What brings you here tonight, Miss Wilson?" Matthias asked after a moment.

Mindy met his gaze.

"A chance."

He stopped mid-step, eyes narrowing slightly.

"For what?"

"Maxine Magazine, what else!"

Mindy continued.

"And why are you here, Mr. King?"

"Business!"

Mindy said, "You need to be careful today, Mr. King."

"Why?"

"Because someone knew you would be here."

His grip tightened slightly.

"No one knew I was coming."

"Someone did."

His grip on her waist tightened slightly.

"That’s... concerning."

"Or fortunate," she replied. "Depends on your perspective."

His grip tightened just slightly, curiosity sharpening his tone. He studied her face, searching for any hint of deceit.

There was none.

Only calm certainty.

"How did you know?" he asked quietly.

Mindy subtly nodded toward the staircase.

"Do you see the waiter standing behind the stairs?"

Matthias did not turn immediately. Instead, he guided her through another step and used the movement to glance in that direction.

The waiter stood with one hand near his ear, pretending to adjust his earpiece.

"He has looked at you several times since you arrived," Mindy continued. "When you entered, I was near the bar. I heard him say, ’He’s here.’"

Matthias’s eyes returned to hers.

"Are you certain?"

"I heard him clearly."

"Something going on here, isn’t there?" she asked softly.

He studied her face, searching for any hint of deceit.

There was none.

Only calm certainty.

"You’re observant," he said finally.

"I pay attention."

For a moment, neither spoke. The music swelled around them, the crowd oblivious to the quiet tension threading through their conversation.

Then Mindy smiled faintly.

"Don’t worry. I’ll protect you."

Matthias blinked, his eyes flickering with something unreadable—surprise, maybe confusion.

His grip on her waist loosened slightly, as if he didn’t quite know how to respond.

No one had ever said that to him before.

Not like that.

Not with such calm certainty.

He wasn’t used to concern. Not genuine concern. Not from strangers.

For a moment, his carefully constructed mask slipped.

Just a fraction.

Matthias blinked, then laughed—a short, surprised sound that drew a few curious glances.

"You’ll protect me?"

"Why not?" she said lightly. "You look like you could use it."

His laughter faded, replaced by something more serious.

"You mean that."

"I don’t say things I don’t mean."

He studied her face, searching for the joke, the angle, the manipulation.

There was none.

Only calm certainty.

"You’re either the bravest woman I’ve ever met," he said quietly, "or the most reckless."

"Can’t I be both?"

That earned another quiet laugh.

"You’re not what I expected, Miss Wilson."

"Good. I’d hate to be predictable."

He shook his head, still smiling.

"You’re full of surprises."

"So are you, Mr. King."