"The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing." - Albert Einstein

Veronica

The music swirled around me, a waltz that should have felt romantic, but instead, a knot of unease tightened in my stomach. Yet, in the midst of the swirling chaos and my own anxieties, there was Saint. His hand on my waist was warm, reassuring, a steady presence in the storm within me. He moved with such grace, guiding me effortlessly across the dance floor. It was as if, for these few precious moments, the world narrowed down to just us, to the rhythm of the music, to the feel of his close proximity. I could feel my gaze drawn to him, intense and searching, even through his mask. There was something about him, an underlying strength and intensity, that both intrigued and intimidated me. He made me feel… safe. Protected. And more than that, there was a spark, a flicker of something more, that ignited within me whenever he was near. It was a dangerous feeling, considering the circumstances, considering he was my protector, not someone I should be… attracted to. And a part of me was worried about the people I cared about getting hurt because of me. My connection to Saint, however innocent, could make him a target too. The thought made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't believe how important he was becoming to me. I barely knew him, but I couldn't deny these feelings. I'd never felt this way about a man before. The line between us was getting blurred, and a part of me, more than I wanted to admit, didn't mind and welcomed it.

"Thank you," I murmured, more to break the unsettling silence than anything else. He truly had been a constant presence, a quiet guardian in this strange and overwhelming world.

"You don't have to thank me, Veronica. It's my pleasure," he replied, his voice sincere, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a warm smile that reached me even through the mask. And I believed him. It *was* his pleasure. There was a genuine warmth in his gaze, a quiet intensity that made me feel… seen. Understood. It was a rare and precious feeling, one I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

As we danced, I tried to focus on the rhythm, on the feel of his hand guiding me, on the way he made me feel – lighter, more confident, almost… carefree. It was a welcome distraction from the fear that gnawed at me. He made me forget, if only for a little while, the threats, the auction, the feeling of being hunted. He made me feel… normal. A woman at a ball, not a target. But even in these moments of respite, the underlying fear remained, a constant hum beneath the surface.

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"Let's get some fresh air. It's getting a little warm in here," Saint murmured, his voice cutting through my thoughts.

The balcony was a welcome escape from the crowded ballroom. The city lights twinkled below, a breathtaking panorama, but even their beauty couldn't fully dispel my anxiety.

"It's beautiful," I whispered, more to myself than him.

"Yes," he agreed, his eyes on me, not the view. And in that moment, I felt a blush creep up my neck, even in the dim light. His attention was unnerving, yet… thrilling. His gaze held mine, a silent conversation passing between us. I felt a pull towards him, a yearning for something… more.

Then, I saw him. A figure standing in the shadows, a man in a dark mask, staring directly at me. The feeling of safety that Saint had evoked shattered, replaced by a wave of icy fear. My breath hitched. "Saint," I whispered, my voice trembling. "Do you see that man over there?"

"Yes," he replied, his voice hardening. I saw the tension in his posture, the way his hand tightened on my waist, pulling me closer, as if he could shield me from the unknown threat.

Before either of us could react, the man vanished into the crowd.

"He was watching us," I said, my heart pounding.

"I saw him," Saint replied grimly. "I'll find him." He scanned the ballroom, his eyes searching, but the man was gone, swallowed by the sea of masked faces. "Damn it," he muttered, frustration evident in his voice. "Let's go, Veronica."

We left the dance floor immediately, the music and laughter now a jarring contrast to the fear that gripped me. I felt Saint’s hand on my back, a protective gesture that offered little comfort in the face of the unknown.

Back at the hotel, Saint escorted me to my room. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything," he said at my door.

"Thank you, Saint," I replied, my voice still shaky. I managed a weak smile. "I don't know what I would do without you." It was the truth. He had become my anchor in this chaotic world. And a complicated one, I feared.

He returned my smile, his eyes conveying a silent promise. "You're safe now," he reassured me, though I wasn't sure I believed it. He hesitated, then gently cupped my face in his hands. And then, he kissed me. It was a soft kiss, a brief but tender moment of connection. It was unexpected, and it sent a shiver down my spine, a confusing mix of vulnerability and… something else. Something I couldn't quite name. But in that kiss, I felt a flicker of the same warmth and safety I felt in his arms on the dance floor. It was a dangerous comfort, a forbidden spark.

"I'll be right here," he promised, his voice firm, his gaze searching mine. He pulled me into a brief, tight embrace, then stepped back, allowing me to enter my room. I turned to go inside, but paused, a strange sense of foreboding washing over me. "Saint," I began, my voice barely a whisper. "Be careful. Not just for me, but for yourself too."

He nodded, his expression serious. "Always," he replied, his eyes never leaving mine. He stood there, watching as I finally slipped into my room and closed the door. I leaned against the cool wood, my heart still racing. His kiss, his promise, the masked figure… it was all swirling together, a confusing and unsettling mix of emotions. I knew one thing for certain: the stakes had been raised. Someone was watching me, and they weren't playing games anymore. And I was terrified of what they might do, not just to me, but to those I cared about. Especially Saint.