Falling For My Cold Billionaire Captor

Colby dragged Azura through the suffocating crowd of the grand ballroom, his grip vice-like on her arm. Every abrupt yank sent a jarring bolt of pain through her bandaged right foot, but she bit down hard on the inside of her cheek and forced her legs to keep pace. Politicians, hedge fund managers, and tech billionaires constantly stepped into their path, eager to kiss the ring of the Mcintosh family.

Every time someone asked about Azura, Colby would flash a sleazy, suggestive smile and say, "This is my new companion for the evening."

The word "companion" dripped with objectification. Azura's stomach churned. She wanted to rip her arm away and slap him across his smug face, but the threat of expulsion kept her paralyzed. She forced a stiff, agonizingly fake smile, nodding at people who looked at her like she was an expensive rented accessory.

Up on the second-floor balcony, Hunter watched the display. His chest tightened with a dark, violent possessiveness he couldn't explain. He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a single sentence.

Come to the second floor. Now.

Down in the crowd, Colby's phone buzzed in his tuxedo pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and the color instantly drained from his face. The arrogant swagger vanished, replaced by a deep, instinctual fear.

Without a word of explanation, Colby ripped his arm away from Azura. "Stay right here. Don't move. I have to see someone important," he ordered, before turning and practically sprinting toward the VIP staircase.

Azura let out a massive breath, her shoulders sagging in relief. She immediately turned her back on the crowded dance floor and limped as quickly as she could toward the dimly lit dessert tables lining the far wall. Her injured foot screamed in protest with every step, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through, desperate for a moment of solitude.

She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. A wave of dizzying hypoglycemia hit her. Her hands shook slightly as she grabbed a small porcelain plate and piled it with macarons and salmon tartare.

She stepped behind a massive marble Roman column to hide from the crowd, shoving a macaron into her mouth without an ounce of elegance. She just needed sugar to survive the next few hours.

"Well, well. Aren't you a hungry little thing?"

A thick, slurred voice broke her peace. Azura froze mid-chew.

A heavy-set, middle-aged man with a flushed face and reeking of cheap champagne stumbled around the column. Dax Adler, a notorious Wall Street executive. His bloodshot eyes raked over Azura's body, lingering disgustingly on the exposed skin of her back.

Dax leaned his sweaty palm against the marble column, completely blocking her only exit. "You're a stunning piece of work. Which modeling agency are you from, sweetheart?"

Azura swallowed the dry pastry, her throat tight with revulsion. "I'm not a model. Excuse me." She tried to step around him, carefully keeping her weight off her throbbing right foot.

Dax shifted his bulk, blocking her again. He leaned in close, his sour breath fanning her face. "Don't play hard to get. I saw Colby ditch you. I know you're just a high-end escort. Whatever he's paying you for the night, I'll double it."

The sheer audacity of the insult made Azura's blood boil. Her amber eyes flared with pure rage. "Get out of my way right now, or I will scream for security."

Dax threw his head back and laughed, a wet, ugly sound. "Security? For a whore?" He reached out, his thick, sweaty fingers grabbing her bare shoulder. "Stop acting like a prude and come here-"

Azura's survival instincts took over.

Her hand shot out. She gripped the heavy, solid silver dessert fork from her plate and slammed it downward with all her strength, driving the sharp prongs directly into the back of Dax's hand.

"Aaaargh!" Dax shrieked like a slaughtered pig. He ripped his hand back, blood instantly welling from the puncture wounds. He stumbled backward, his heavy body crashing into a towering champagne pyramid.

Hundreds of crystal glasses shattered against the marble floor with a deafening crash.

The entire ballroom went dead silent. The music stopped. Every single head turned toward the dessert corner.

Dax clutched his bleeding hand, his face purple with rage. He pointed at Azura. "This crazy bitch tried to seduce me, and when I said no, she stabbed me!"

The crowd gasped. The socialites began whispering furiously, their eyes filled with vicious judgment, staring at the isolated, beautiful girl.

Azura stood her ground. Her chest heaved, her knuckles white as she gripped the bloody fork. She looked like a cornered wolf, terrified but ready to fight to the death.

Suddenly, the crowd parted violently.

Beatrice Bancroft, Dax's wife, stormed through the onlookers. She was covered in diamonds and a heavy mink coat, her face twisted in a psychotic fury. She saw her husband's bleeding hand, then looked at Azura's stunning face.

Beatrice didn't ask a single question. She lunged.

She raised her hand, the massive diamond rings on her fingers catching the light, and slapped Azura across the face with terrifying force.

The crack echoed through the silent hall. Azura's head snapped to the side. The metallic taste of blood instantly filled her mouth. Her ear rang violently.

Before Azura could recover, Beatrice grabbed a fistful of Azura's hair and yanked her downward. With her other hand, she grabbed the neckline of the blue velvet dress and pulled hard.

Riiip.

The delicate fabric tore down the seam. Azura's left shoulder and part of her chest were suddenly exposed to the cold air. Azura cried out, dropping the fork to desperately cover herself with her arms. Two other women, eager to please Beatrice, grabbed Azura's arms, pinning her in place. The sudden loss of balance slammed her injured foot flat against the marble floor, and a choked cry of pain tore from her throat.

Up on the second floor, Hunter had just finished tearing Colby apart verbally. He heard the crash and walked to the railing.

He looked down.

When Hunter saw Azura pinned, bleeding, and her dress torn, the temperature in his eyes dropped to absolute zero. A terrifying, murderous aura exploded from his body.