Shadow Of The Prey

CH7. Hindrance.

My brow raises as I stare at his polite smile. It's the kind of smile that's irritating to look at. A smile that's obviously fake— holding no connection to emotions of being charmed, amused, friendly, or maliciousness.
His is a smile just as detached as his mask.

"Your partner? Without even having a conversation?" I scoff, giving him a meaningless smile that hides the annoyance I have for him.
"Of course. It's not everyday a talented gambler as beautiful as you comes along. It'd be a shame to not ask for a dance."
"I'll decline. I have no interest in dancing."
"Funnily enough, neither do I."

One look at his expression is enough to confuse me, almost derailing me from my focus. Glancing at Meredith and her friends, I watch Miss. Hayashi and Miss. Vidius being whisked away by his companions for a dance.

"If you have no interest in dancing, why bother me to be your dance partner?" My tone is harsh, resembling the tone of an entitled heiress.
"Oh Lady Ruby, you're too splendid to not approach."
"Since I don't want to dance, what idea of a partner do you have, inside that peculiar little mind of yours?"
"Anything you desire. However, at the moment I have only one idea in mind."

Gently taking my hand, he brings my fingers up to his chin—his head bowing slightly as he keeps his eyes secured back to mine.

"I only wish to see your beauty bared in front of me. Won't you show me what's under your mask?" His words whispered, only for my ears to hear.

His cologne—a spiced and dry woody scent—assaults my nose from the artificial sharpness. Slowly closing the distance between us, his lips plant a feather-light kiss onto my knuckles.

"You haven't even given a name to address you, what makes you to think it's acceptable to treat me with such familiarity?" My eyes turn sharp as I analyze him, my demeanour evidently hostile.

He's irrelevant to my mission, but I can't help try to read him.
Someone who looks at me with a friendly curious gaze, his eyes painted with what can only be described as scorching lust—yet deep down, there's a sign of chaotic fury. The aggression he hides, doesn't show any signs that I was the cause, but the one thing is clear of my analysis—he's a man who's hungry with desire. Not the desire he'd find in a bed partner, but for something tainted with malice.

"A night where our identities are hidden, shouldn't we use this chance to free our desires? Why not free yourself with me?"

Ripping my hand away, I take the handkerchief in his pocket.
Wiping the back of my hand where his lips made contact, I meet his stare with a look of visible disgust in my expression, until haphazardly dropping the cloth on the ground.

"I'll have to ask you to leave. Our ideals are far too different, and you're unruly in attempting to pursue me to follow your indecent lechery." I speak my words as if a hiss.
"I apologize for being rude, it seemed like you're the kind of lady who would enjoy such escapades." His expression never falters—the same revolting friendly look, even as his eyes quickly glance at his handkerchief on the floor.
"You have no value to me. You're merely a stray dog who's drooling at my feet, hoping I'll offer a bone."
"And have you no empathy for even a stray?"
"A stray as disobedient as you, doesn't even deserve a crumb. If you're done, I'll let you leave my sight before I notify security."
"If you wish. But one day you'll wish to offer a bone to this stray."
Leaving the handkerchief behind, he gives a nod alongside of his sly grin until disappearing into the crowd of people mingling and dancing a few feet behind us.

Taking a sip of the whiskey, I can't help but scowl at the encounter. The irritation within me, making it difficult to pay attention to the sounds of the lounge—laughter, conversations, and the clinking of chips and glasses—I lost track of the target's position.
A deep breath in, until taking another sip, I calm my nerves, instantly focused on my duty.
Resting my arms on the counter to seem as if I'm lounging and enjoying my drink—which I thoroughly am, of course—I notice Meredith still speaking to a man a few feet away from me. My eyes move around the room until focusing on the table where the target previously was, only to see his friends laughing with people around.
The target's nowhere in sight.
I take another deep breath, upset with myself for getting distracted. I discreetly glance around as I take a sip—hoping to catch a glimpse of his mask or his suit.