Chapter 228: Deception: A Far Safer Weapon
Catherine did not want to be anywhere near Dorian Blackwood and she certainly had no intention of getting into Dorian Blackwood’s car.
The moment he opened the rear door of the Maybach, she turned and attempted to leave. She only managed a few steps before stopping.
The street appeared ordinary enough at first glance. People walked along the sidewalks. A man sat outside a café with a newspaper. Another stood near a storefront, speaking on his phone. Traffic flowed normally through the intersection.
Yet the longer she looked, the more artificial the scene felt.
Every instinct she possessed screamed that something was wrong. Several people were watching her.
Not openly. Professionally. The sort of attention trained men gave to a target while pretending not to look.
And a few of them carried themselves with the unmistakable alertness of security personnel. Their jackets concealed most of it, but Catherine caught brief glimpses of hard outlines beneath the fabric.
Armed.
A chill slid down her spine.
Keeping her movements calm, she lowered her gaze to the phone hanging from its pearl-beaded lanyard and quickly typed out a message.
Maximilian.
The message failed.
Her brows furrowed. She tried again. Nothing. It was not weak reception, there was no reception.
For a moment, Catherine stared at the screen before slowly lifting her eyes toward Dorian. She didn’t need long to understand what was happening.
A signal jammer.
Of course, Dorian Blackwood was not the sort of man who arranged an ambush and forgot the details.
Taking a slow breath, Catherine slipped the phone back against her side.
"You’ve come prepared."
Dorian’s lips curved.
"I prefer to avoid complications."
The answer did nothing to soothe her.
He stood there looking as immaculate as ever, as though he had stepped out of the pages of a luxury magazine. His dark hair was brushed neatly back, every strand perfectly in place. The pinstripe suit he wore had been tailored with obsessive precision, while his polished Oxford shoes gleamed beneath the morning light.
A ruby-red rose brooch adorned his lapel. The vivid splash of crimson immediately drew Catherine’s eye. Against the charcoal suit, it looked almost like a drop of blood.
Dorian followed her gaze and smiled.
Then, with infuriating courtesy, he held the rear door open for her.
An invitation. Or perhaps the illusion of one.
Catherine looked at the open door. Then at the armed men positioned throughout the street. Then back at Dorian.
The outcome had already been decided long before she stepped out of the brownstone. Resisting here would accomplish nothing. She needed information. She needed time.
And most importantly, she needed to stay alert.
Without another word, she stepped into the vehicle. The door closed behind her with a heavy click. Immediately, her pulse accelerated. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Fear pressed insistently against her ribs, urging her to panic, urging her to imagine every terrible possibility.
Catherine forced herself to breathe. Slowly. Deliberately. This was not the time for fear. Fear clouded judgment. Fear created mistakes.
And mistakes were dangerous.
She was on a battlefield now, whether she liked it or not. Not every battlefield involved weapons and bloodshed. Some were fought with information, leverage, and power.
A moment of distraction could be just as damaging.
She folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited. A few seconds later, the opposite door opened. Dorian entered the car. The spacious interior immediately felt smaller. More confined.
He settled into the seat across from her before rapping his knuckles lightly against the custom-built divider separating the passenger compartment from the driver.
The vehicle began moving.
"I don’t think it’s a particularly good idea to take me somewhere else," Catherine said evenly.
Her hand drifted unconsciously toward the bracelet around her wrist. The familiar weight grounded her. Reminded her to stay calm. To think.
She had lived with Dorian for decades in another life. She knew how he thought and acted. She needed to go with the flow. One little sign of defiance... she’d be in real danger.
Dorian did not answer immediately. Instead, he simply watched her.
The intensity of his gaze made her skin crawl.
It lingered on her face with unsettling focus, as though he were studying every reaction she failed to conceal.
Catherine met his stare anyway, refusing to look away first. "He might drop a bomb," she said quietly.
The corner of Dorian’s mouth twitched. Whether it was in amusement or irritation, she couldn’t tell.
Without breaking eye contact, he lifted a hand and made a brief cut-throat gesture toward the driver.
A soft mechanical click followed. Then another.
The privacy system activated.
The electrochromic glass surrounding the passenger compartment gradually darkened until the city outside vanished from view. Within seconds, even the driver’s silhouette disappeared behind the opaque divider, leaving nothing beyond the polished wood, leather interior, and the silence that settled between them.
The luxurious Maybach suddenly felt less like a vehicle and more like a carefully designed prison.
And Catherine found herself locked inside it with Dorian Blackwood.
Dorian’s gaze dropped to her left hand. For the first time since entering the car, something shifted in his expression. His eyes lingered on the ring resting on her finger. The ring Maximilian had given her. The ring she wore openly. Unapologetically.
"So the rumors are true," he said quietly.
His gaze remained fixed on the alexandrite. Then he lifted a hand and pointed toward it.
Catherine followed his line of sight before looking back at him. "What do you want me to say, Dorian?"
For a moment, he simply stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled. The expression was genuine. And somehow that disturbed her more.
"You said my name." His voice softened. "It’s beautiful coming from your mouth."
Catherine maintained her composure, though every instinct urged her to put more distance between them. She studied him carefully. The happiness in his expression wasn’t feigned.
That was what unsettled her. Dorian Blackwood was dangerous when he was angry. But he was infinitely more unpredictable when he was pleased.
"What is this, Dorian?" she asked calmly. Her eyes briefly flicked toward the darkened glass surrounding them. "You don’t have much time." A faint smile touched her lips.
"He’s watching me."
She intended it as a threat.
Because if there was one thing Catherine understood about Maximilian, it was that he paid attention. The moment her live location disappeared, he would notice. The moment she stopped responding, he would investigate.
And if he concluded someone had taken her...
Well.
Catherine wasn’t entirely certain what Maximilian would do. But she knew enough to be concerned for anyone standing in his way.
Just a few days ago, he had been discussing autonomous surveillance drones with a contractor over dinner. She had laughed at the time. Now she wasn’t laughing. She genuinely would not be surprised if he filled half the city skyline with drones searching for her.
Which was why she wasn’t joking about someone getting bombed.
Unfortunately, Dorian did not seem to interpret her words as a warning. If anything, his smile deepened.
Catherine resisted the urge to sigh. Part of her wanted to clarify exactly what she meant. To tell him plainly that Maximilian was likely already mobilizing resources, that this situation would end badly for everyone involved.
Once, she would have done exactly that. Once, she had spoken her mind freely around Dorian, whether he agreed or disagreed, whether he liked what she said or not.
In another lifetime, she had considered him her partner. Someone who stood on her side. Someone who belonged to her team.
The memory left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Because she knew where that road had led. She had trusted him even when she didn’t love him. she believed in him.
And in the end, none of it had mattered.
He had never seen her the way she had seen him. He had never chosen her. And eventually, he had killed her son, and her.
The thought settled coldly in her chest.
No.
She would not make the same mistake twice.
So instead of correcting him, Catherine merely smiled. The expression came easily enough. After all, deception was a far safer weapon than honesty when facing an enemy.
And Dorian Blackwood was her enemy.
"Maybe we can die together this time." He said it with a low chuckle, as though discussing the weather.
Catherine stared at him. Her eyebrows twitched slightly.
What a bizarre thing to joke about.
More importantly, why would he assume Maximilian would be willing to sacrifice her life alongside his own?
Then understanding dawned.
Of course. Classic Dorian. He had always assumed everyone thought the way he did. Loved the way he did. Destroyed the way he did.
He viewed obsession as devotion. Possession as affection. Control as loyalty.
And because those were the rules he lived by, he expected everyone else to follow them as well.
"Can’t die today, Dorian." Her tone remained light. Almost playful. "I still need my name on a research paper."
The smile faded from his face, immediately, as though she had reminded him of something important.
Or perhaps something painful.
The atmosphere inside the car shifted. The amusement vanished from his eyes, replaced by something far more serious.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Dorian slowly lifted his hand. The movement was unhurried and deliberate. His fingers rose toward her face... Toward her cheek.
And despite all her efforts to remain calm, Catherine felt every muscle in her body tense.
"My Queen..."
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