CHAPTER 438: CHAPTER 448: ALLIES

The music shifted, and the servers cleared the aisle, the light dipped slightly warmer, and those who understood anything about power began to turn.

Because the King of Saha did not enter quietly.

Dax swept through the ballroom like a well-aimed dagger, all polished ease and coiled threat. His tailored black ensemble was lined in Sahan gold, sharp as a crest and unmistakably regal. He didn’t smile and didn’t acknowledge the gasps or the bows.

And beside him was Christopher Malek, or, as per sahan law and their marriage, Christopher Altera.

Chris wore a sahan omega robe in cream and black, tailored modestly but with the same etched gold embroidery that once only touched royal blood. A high collar swept around his neck, meeting a line of fine diamond mesh that shimmered just enough under the chandelier light. Every movement was quiet grace.

Lucas lowered his champagne, eyes narrowing slightly. "Is it me, or did he outdress Mia? She will kill him."

Trevor didn’t even look. "She’ll forgive him. Eventually. After her third glass."

"She’s on her second," Cressida noted, sipping hers. "And she’s smiling like someone planning either a toast or a duel."

Down on the marble, the two Sahan royals moved unbothered. They didn’t pause. Didn’t wave. They arrived in the truest, most curated sense of the word.

Christopher Altera wore power like it was stitched into the hem of his robe, which, considering the gold-etched silk, might not be far off. His expression didn’t flicker. Not when the nobles glanced his way, not when someone bowed a second too low, not even when a young countess forgot to breathe.

Dax walked beside him, but somehow also behind, the same way a storm hovered just past the skyline.

"Do you think they practiced the walk?" Lucas asked.

"They didn’t need to," Trevor said. "Chris hates attention and Dax lives on it. This is compromise."

"I’ve seen war treaties with less tension," Lucas muttered.

"They’re married," Cressida said. "And they’re terrifying. It’s romantic."

As if summoned, Chris’s gaze swept across the room and landed on their small lounge cluster. His eyes lingered on Lucas for half a second before flicking to Trevor, then Cressida, Serathine, and back. He had the look of a man who had mapped the room already and was confirming the results.

Then he leaned slightly into Dax’s space, no whisper, just the smallest shift of breath.

Dax smiled.

The room reacted before anyone else could. Space opened. An unspoken invitation, or warning.

Lucas exhaled. "Here they come."

"I’ve heard you." Chris said with a bored look on his face.

Chris didn’t smile.

But he didn’t object either.

Not when Mia stood in the spotlight like a queen in waiting, poised and radiant in deep green silk, her emerald earrings catching the light like a warning. She looked, in that moment, like she didn’t need backup.

Which meant, Chris knew, that she absolutely did.

Dax’s hand brushed lightly against the back of his waist. Silent, but grounding.

"Your sister looks murderous," Trevor murmured beside him.

Chris didn’t look away from the stage. "She’s trying not to stab someone in front of the press."

"Which one?" Lucas asked, too casually.

Chris’s mouth thinned. "Take your pick. The Maleks keep multiplying."

Cressida arched a brow. "So they didn’t back out? I thought the Black family was enough to make even Caelan back down."

Chris’s eyes flicked to the far edge of the room where the remaining Malek relatives had clustered, smiles too tight, eyes too loud, dressed in wealth they didn’t earn but would weaponize if given half a chance.

"They didn’t back out," he said. "They just regrouped. New tactics. Same vultures."

"Desperate ones," Serathine added coolly, her fingers tightening slightly on her champagne stem. "You cut off their golden ticket. Now they’re circling Mia, hoping she bleeds opportunity."

"Mia won’t bleed," Chris said. It wasn’t a wish. It was a fact.

"She has Andrew," Trevor murmured, following Chris’s gaze. "He’ll gut them in court if they try anything."

Chris gave the smallest nod, the kind only family would notice. His older brother, Andrew Malek, now Andrew Milo Black, a former prosecutor, a quiet weapon, and the last person you wanted to face in a legal ring, stood just behind the raised dais. Watching the room like he was already tallying the lies for later dismantling.

"They didn’t show up for years," Chris said. "Not for her. Not for me. Not until Dax signed the marriage seal and Caelan sent a gift."

"They only care about power and money," Cressida said mildly. "I’m surprised the king didn’t deal with them."

"I offered," said Dax mildly, "but Chris stopped me."

Cressida’s eyes glittered. "Pity. I would’ve sent flowers."

"I told him they weren’t worth the fuel," Chris said, tone flat. "Or the international incident."

"Yet here they are," Lucas murmured, swirling the champagne in his glass. "Still breathing."

"For now," Serathine said, not bothering to soften it.

Across the room, one of the older Maleks leaned in too close to a foreign ambassador’s spouse, likely mistaking manners for leverage. Mia’s jaw tensed, so briefly it was almost invisible, but Chris saw it. Felt it.

"She’s cornered," he said quietly.

Trevor stood straighter, sharp eyes scanning the crowd. "We can intercept."

Chris didn’t move yet. Dax shifted closer, subtly angling his body so that the press couldn’t capture more than a profile. His fingers brushed against Chris’s arm again, grounding him.

"She can hold a line," Chris said, measured. "But I’m not letting her do it alone."

He stepped forward.

Dax followed immediately, like a shadow shaped into a man, stormlight tucked into royal gold.

The crowd parted again, faster this time.

Trevor set his glass down. "I’ll flank."

Lucas rose without being asked. "Let’s make it look casual."

Cressida didn’t move, but her smile deepened like a knife sliding into velvet. "I’ll stay here. Someone needs to make the nobles sweat."

Serathine nodded. "And someone needs to keep the reporters from getting brave."

Chris moved through the ballroom like a quiet verdict. When he reached Mia’s side, her spine eased half a breath. That was all she gave him.

But it was enough

"I thought you weren’t coming until the second act," she murmured, never looking away from her unwanted guests.

"I changed my mind," Chris said, standing slightly in front of her. "And brought witnesses."

Dax’s presence darkened the air like a thundercloud on command.

Trevor stopped beside Mia with the ease of a man who’d won bigger wars than this and still had time for dessert. Lucas offered his arm like a perfect distraction.

The Malek relatives hesitated.

Too late.

Andrew Black had already moved from the dais, standing behind them now, quiet and watching.

And for the first time that evening, one of the older nobles took a step back.

Chris smiled, just barely.

"Good," he said softly. "They remember."

And the engagement party finally began.