Emily’s POV

Blood dripped from Daniel’s palm, bright crimson against the pristine white carpet, but his face remained a terrifying mask of pure, unhinged fury. His storm-gray eyes locked onto mine like two loaded barrels.

"Mr. Walker!" Ethan gasped, turning pale as he stared at Daniel’s hand. "Your hand—it's bleeding!"

"Come on, Ethan," I said coldly, grabbing Ethan’s arm and pulling him away before Daniel could speak. "Let him deal with his own mess."

Daniel didn't move. He didn't call after us. He just stood like a towering silhouette in the middle of the crowded ballroom, watching me drag Ethan out into the night.

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Twenty minutes later, the door...