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LORI POV.
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Knight’s eyes burned with fury and disbelief as he stood frozen in the centre of the opulent hall. His voice, usually so commanding, faltered as he tried to regain control of the situation.
“Lori, what is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his tone low and taut with anger. His hand subtly gestured as if to summon restraint, yet the audience’s attentive murmur stifled any overt reaction.
I met his gaze, the crimson fabric of my dress swaying with every confident step. “I mean that I’m not here to be your obedient shadow,” I declared boldly, my voice carrying across the room. “I’m here to be truly seen and to own who I am.”
A ripple of shocked whispers swept through the crowd. Knight’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to process the transformation of the woman before him. The woman who once revered him from a distance, too timid to challenge the rules he imposed.
“Lori, you-” Knight began, his voice strained with simmering anger. “Have you forgotten who I am? Now, you dare disrespect me?”
I tilted my head slightly, a wry smile playing at the corners of my lips. ” Disrespect? Oh, call it whatever. I respected you once, Knight, but not at the cost of losing myself. I’ve spent too long dancing on the strings you pulled.”
He stepped forward, his presence still imposing despite the constraints of the public setting. “This isn’t how things work,” he insisted in a low, measured tone, his words barely audible over the soft clink of glasses and murmured conversations. “You’re still under my control, always have been.”
Nicole’s hand found mine as she whispered, “Lori, don’t let him take you back.” Her eyes shone with fierce encouragement.
Knight’s eyes flicked toward Nicole briefly, as if to remind her of the power dynamics at play, but his attention quickly returned to me. “You’re behaving as if you’ve forgotten your place,” he said sharply. “You owe me your obedience.”
I took a slow step closer, unyielding. “My place? That’s the last thing I owe you, Knight. I owe myself the chance to be free. And tonight, I’m free.”
A murmur of shock pulsed through the onlookers. Knight’s fists clenched at his sides. “You’re making a grave mistake, Lori,” he hissed, his tone laced with both menace and a desperate need to reassert his dominance. “You think this boldness will win you something, but it only proves you’re lost.”
“Lost?” I echoed, my voice rising with a calm defiance. “I’m found. I’m found in the moment I decided to speak up, to stop being your accessory. I’m no longer the doll you parade around.”
Knight’s jaw set in a hard line, his eyes smouldering with unspoken fury. “You really think you can just walk away from everything we built?” he demanded, his voice low yet slicing through the murmurs of the crowd.
I met his gaze coolly. “I’m not walking away from what I am,” I replied, my tone steady. “I’m walking toward who I want to be.”
A tense silence fell. Knight’s expression, masked in arrogant composure, betrayed nothing, but I sensed the pain behind his calm. “You’re forgetting your place,” he snapped, his words clipped with authority. “Don’t make me remind you again.”
Nicole squeezed my hand gently. “Lori, don’t let him have that power over you,” she whispered fiercely.
Knight’s eyes flicked toward Nicole as if to silence her support, then turned back to me with a disdainful sneer. “Your defiance is a mistake you’ll regret,” he said, his voice cold and unwavering, the arrogance of a Mafia lord colouring every syllable. “I expect loyalty from those in my circle. You owe me-”
I cut him off, stepping closer with quiet resolve. “I owe nothing to you,” I said firmly. “I owe myself the right to be free.”
Before he could retort, a deep, authoritative voice boomed from the far end of the hall. “Lord Knight, you are required at the podium.”
A ripple of murmurs spread among the guests as Knight’s eyes flickered with barely contained irritation. With a deep exhale, he straightened his back and spoke coolly, “Very well.” His tone was clipped, each word carrying the weight of his authority, even as his eyes burned with an inner rage he would never show.
I watched as he turned abruptly, his cape swirling behind him, and strode toward the stage. “Your absence of sentiment means nothing to me,” he muttered under his breath, though the words were swallowed by the collective whispers of the crowd.
“Nicole,” I murmured quietly as soon as he started giving a speech at the podium. “I need to step away for a moment.”
“Be careful, Lori,” she warned softly, concern and pride mingling in her tone. “This is only the beginning.”
I offered her a brief, determined smile before turning away from the gathering. My footsteps were silent as I slipped through a side corridor, away from the echoing speeches and tense stares.
Soon, I arrived at a heavy, unmarked door guarded by a stern-looking man. A discreet sign read “SILENT ROOM.” I hesitated for a fraction of a second as memories of the confrontation buzzed in my mind, then steeled myself and approached him.
“Excuse me,” I said in a low voice, “I’m here for Santorini.”
The guard’s expression softened slightly as he nodded. “Follow me,” he replied, guiding me down a short, private hallway. We reached a door secured with a small digital keypad. The guard stepped aside and said, “You’ll need the code.”
I glanced around cautiously. Just then, a soft chime sounded from my phone, a message from Santorini: ‘Enter 7-3-9-1. I’ll be waiting inside.’
I relayed the numbers to the guard, who pressed them in expertly. The door clicked open, revealing a quiet, elegantly furnished room.
Inside, Santorini was seated in his chair, a cigar buried in between his middle finger. His eyes held a warm welcome as he off the cigar halfway and stepped up.
“Lori,” he greeted quietly, his tone sincere yet laced with the promise of something more, ” Welcome to my abode!”