Allistair's POV

As I stepped out of the restroom, my heart stuttered at the sight before me. Tahlia was advancing across the ballroom like an avenging angel, her eyes blazing with rage, her beautiful features contorted into a ferocious scowl. Merciless purpose radiated from her with every clipped stride.

"Oh Shit," I muttered under my breath, an icy fist of dread clenching my gut.

She had witnessed the altercation with Haysmith. Of course she would be furious - I had promised to keep a low profile this evening for the sake of her ambitions. Yet fate seemed intent on thwarting us at every turn.

Tahlia closed the distance rapidly, her glare so scorching I was amazed I didn't spontaneously combust. Before I could open my mouth to explain, she grabbed my arm in a vise-like grip and yanked me towards the nearest alcove.

"Tally, please, let me—"

"Outside. Now," she hissed through gritted teeth.

I clenched my jaw but obeyed. Denying Tahlia when she was in this mood would only lead to further explosive confrontation. It was better to allow the storm to crest before attempting to reason with her.

"What in the blazing hell were you thinking?" Her finger jabbed into my chest, the sting of it negligible compared to the knowing I had disappointed and angered her so. "Have you utterly lost your mind?"

I prepared to lay bare the truth - how I had intervened solely to protect Rosemary from Haysmith's vile intentions towards her. As a gentleman, it was my duty.

But that justification was merely a smokescreen. The real reason I kept such vigilant watch over Rosemary, the driving force that had me ingratiate myself into her orbit, stemmed from deeply troubling intel. Hints, however tenuous, that she harbored a shocking connection to the Steelman family - one capable of detonating Tahlia's entire world.

One look at the gawking crowd spilling through the alcove doors, however, and the words turned to ash on my tongue. Tahlia's wellbeing was the axis around which my entire world turned. I would let nothing disrupt that orbit, even if it damned me in her eyes for a time.

"Tahlia, I can explain—"

"Explain what? Explain trading blows with that reprobate like a couple of warring Neanderthals in front of every influential figure in Hopevale City?"

I winced at the venom in her tone, all too aware of how this spectacle must have appeared. A black mark on the pristine record of accomplishments she portrayed on her race for the SteelCo Chair.

"Tally-"

The alcove doors flew open to admit Antoine, Tamara, Tessa, and...Lucian Drago. Why was the slithering snake here was beyond me.

Before I could protest their intrusion, Tahlia rounded on me once more. "Well? I'm waiting for this marvelous explanation of yours, Allistair William Lockwood."

As much as it scorched my soul to have Tahlia view me with such contempt, I could not bring myself to burden her with this potential truth. Not without irrefutable proof to shelter her from the devastation.

Because if Rosemary, the woman Tahlia so openly disdained, proved to be....what I tought she was...it would atomize what remained of Tahlia's world into fragments too shattered to reassemble.

Clearing my throat, I temporized. "Haysmith was out of line. I did what any gentleman would do when a lady's honor is impugned."

Tahlia's lips twisted in a mocking sneer. "Is that what you call it? Because it looked more like petty machismo on display."

Her eyes turned a very dark shade I have never seem before.

"Or could it be you felt possessive over that little charity case you cavorted with so intimately on the dance floor earlier?"

I recoiled at her derisive slight towards Rosemary. Regardless of who the girl ultimately proved to be, she deserved better than to be denigrated so...especially by the woman I loved more than life itself.

As Tahlia's diatribe reached a fever pitch, I could only gaze upon her magnificence - regal despite her wrath, terrifying yet entrancing in her fury. This was the woman who embodied my deepest devotions and darkest desires.

And I, it seemed, had once again faltered in a way she perceived as the gravest betrayal.

"Tally, you're being unreasonable—"

"Unreasonable?" She released a biting peal of laughter devoid of mirth. "I'm the unreasonable one? That little harlot has done it this time and I'll make sure the entire city learns of her escapades"

My temper flared at the demeaning slur directed at Rosemary.

But, I could not voice these suspicions recklessly, not when the intelligence Antoine had uncovered remained so muddied, the implications so catastrophic if mishandled. People had gone to astonishing lengths to bury this connection. To rip away that veil of obfuscation now could prove ruinous for all.

So I would have no recourse but to weather the storm of Tahlia's fury, to endure her resentment as the price for protecting her from a truth she was utterly unprepared to face. So, I did the only thing I could think at that moment, point the finger rigth back at her.

"She has a name, Tahlia! And need I remind you of the cozy little dance I witnessed between you and our esteemed Professor Hahn?"

Tahlia recoiled as if I had struck her, cheeks flushing crimson in a mixture of rage and embarrassment. "Allistair I... I-"

She felt silent but, her inner struggle was evident. "My dance with the Professor will not make headlines in the morning Allistair. Can't say the same for you!"

"Then what, pray tell, was that hushed conversation and lingering looks?" I challenged, a nasty part of me perversely satisfied to have her on the defensive for once. "Care to tell me since when you and him are so intimately acquainted?"

"Unlike you, Allistair, I don't make a habit of airing my private affairs before an audience of gawking sycophants!" She whirled on our spectators, lips peeling back in a snarl. "Well? You've had your pound of salacious gossip, now leave us!"

Chastised but unrepentant, the others exchanged glances before reluctantly filing out, leaving only Drago remaining. Of course the fox lingered, surely the smell of blood in the air is keeping him here.

Tahlia's POV

Allistair's blatant lie about his motivations only served to ignite the flames of my fury even further. His feeble attempt to deflect blame back at me or to mention the professor only confirmed to me that his reasons for attacking Robbie Haysmith were fueled by something far more insidious.

He lacked the courage to own up to the truth: that he was defending that...that vagabond Rosemary for more 'primal' reasons, fully aware that admitting such would expose his own indiscretion. If he had the integrity to confess, I would gladly reciprocate by owning up to mine involving the professor.

As soon as Teresa, Tamara, and Antoine left, I turned to face Allistair once more. I would not be silenced this time. His attempts to defend the little mouse had gone too far.

"Is that truly the story you want to run with?" I demanded, raking him with a withering glare. "About defending a lady's honor?"

His jaw tightened mulishly, but I pressed on, unwilling to let him evade the truth so easily. "What will the morning headlines say, I wonder? The Lockwood heir caught in a sordid love triangle?"

My lips peeled back in a contemptuous sneer. "Or will they portray me as the foolish socialite so dazzled by her own privilege that she failed to notice when her beau traded her in for a lowly waif?"

Allistair's handsome features contorted in indignation, but I refused to let up, lashing him with every bitter recrimination that had festered during his flagrant dalliance with Rosemary.

"Do you take me for a brainless debutante, Allistair?! Tell me, when did my own boyfriend start cavorting with questionable strays behind my back?"

"You shouldn't speak of Rosemary that way!" he thundered, his outrage mirroring my own. "You sound just like your father, looking down on others for the grave sin of not being rich. Insulting her only shows your arrogance and entitlement."

The words struck like a physical blow, momentarily stealing my breath. Allistair had never spoken to me with such open condemnation before. And yet, some treacherous part of me recognized the kernel of truth in his accusation.

Drago cleared his throat then, a slight smirk playing about his lips. "As entertaining as this familial drama is, perhaps we could take it elsewhere? I fear you two have already provided your audience with enough fodder for the society pages."

I started, for the first time registering the hushed murmurs and muted gasps emanating from the alcove doors behind us. Of course that salacious rabble would be shamelessly eavesdropping on our altercation like a pack of vultures scenting carrion.

Fury resurged in an overwhelming tide, this time directed at myself for so brazenly exposing my personal affairs to public scrutiny like some desperate fame-monger. I was a Steelman! My reputation and dignity should have been sacrosanct.

"Tally, please..." Allistair reached for me, his expression a complicated mix of hurt, anger, and desperate pleading. "This isn't the way."

I shrank from his touch, needing to put distance - both literal and figurative - between us to regain my equilibrium. "I...I need some air. Away from here."

Casting about wildly, my gaze landed on Drago's coolly assessing countenance. Without conscious thought, I stepped towards him, desperate to escape the suffocating turmoil of Allistair's presence if only for a few moments.

"Get me out of here, Lucian. Just...get me out of here."

He arched one dark brow but made no protest, merely offering his arm like a vaguely sinister courtier. As I looped my hand through the crook of his elbow, Drago's expression morphed into something inscrutable but vaguely predatory.

Allistair moved as if to intercept, panic flickering in his gaze. "Tahlia, I can't let you leave with him...anyone but him, please."

I drew myself upright, clutching my tattered dignity about me like a tarnished shield. "Whom I leave with is none of your concern, Allistair. I will go where I damned well please."

"But Drago—"

"Is better company than you at present," I cut him off in a tone that brooked no argument. Shooting him a look of utmost contempt, I turned on my heel, practically dragging Drago towards the doors.

"Tally, wait! Drago you son of a bitch, you so much as lay a finger—"

The older man chuckled softly, not slowing his unhurried pace in the slightest. "Careful with your words, Lockwood. You're treading on thin ice."

Allistair's next words emerged strained, a rumbling growl. "Drago, you better keep your filthy hands to yourself, or I will burn you to ashes."

A deafening silence fell. I could practically see the curl of Lucian's mocking smile. "I do not take threats kindly, Lockwood."

Allistair's piercing gaze bored into my back, blazing with an intensity that seared hotter than the blue flames he commanded. In my mind I could see his jaw ticked as he ground out the words from behind gritted teeth. "It's not a threat, Drago." A tremor ran through me at the menacing timbre of his voice. "It's a bloody promise."

I stilled, holding my breath. The heat of Allistair's protective rage blazed around me in waves. Though I should have been repelled by the feral menace in his tone, some primitive part of me was undeniably, viscerally entranced and aroused by the commanding power it exuded. His words wrapped around me like searing tendrils, daring anyone to attempt to harm what he had claimed as his.

We reached the doors that separated the alcove from the ballroom, and I paused fractionally, almost expecting Allistair to bodily block my exit. Some desperate, futile gesture to keep me from Drago's clutches.

But in the end, he remained frozen where he stood, shooting Lucian one final malevolent glare before meeting my gaze. Even from across the distance separating us, I could see the depth of suffering in his eyes. The slightest plea for me not to do this.

Hardening my heart against his entreaty, I turned away, allowing Drago to sweep me back into the opulent ballroom and the swirl of polite society.