Page 59 of Property of Legend

“You look like pure trouble,” Sam says.

“Funny,” I mutter.“Trouble’s headed this way.”

Legend doesn’t stop at the edge of the floor.He storms straight up to us, eyes murderous.

“Dance is over,” he growls.

Sam’s brows lift.“Excuse me?”

“She’s coming with me.”

“No, I’m not,” I say sharply, stepping between them.“You don’t get to do this.”

“Sophie,” he warns.“You’re in danger.”

“You made it pretty damn clear I’m not your problem anymore.”

He flinches.Good.

Oaks tugs at Legend’s arm.“We got a problem.”

“What now?”Legend snarls.

“There’s movement.Rear exit.Depraved Sinners patch spotted.”

The blood drains from my face as I realize Legend’s not just jealous.He’s serious.“Sam, we need to go…”

Except I never finish the sentence.

Sam tenses, clearly unsure if he’s supposed to protect me or protect his suit.

The lights cut.Glass shatters.A woman shrieks.Somewhere, someone’s shouting orders.But all I feel is a hand, rough, gloved, slamming into my mouth before I can scream again.

I fight.I scream.I bite.

But the last thing I see is Legend shoving through the crowd, teeth bared like a wolf, before everything goes black.

Chapter 34

Legend

Sophie’s gone.

I can still smell her perfume on my shirt, can still feel the weight of her hand in mine, the heat of her body pressed against me while she danced with that prick Sam like she didn’t have a care in the damn world.

And now?Now she’s vanished.

One second she was fire and silk on the ballroom floor.The next?Smoke and shadows.

The ballroom’s in chaos, sirens scream in the distance, security’s shouting over the noise, women crying in sequined gowns.A tipped-over champagne tower sparkles like shattered glass under the emergency lights.Oaks and Rye are securing exits, Bullet’s already tracked a blood trail through the service corridor.But there’s no sign of her.No scent of her perfume.No echo of her heels.No whisper of where she went.Just that hollow ache in my gut like something’s been carved out of me.

And then James shows up.

He storms into the middle of the mess like he owns it, hair perfectly in place, jacket unwrinkled, mouth twisted into that permanent sneer he always gives when he sees me.

“This is what protection looks like?”he spits, eyes darting around the room.“Real professional.”

I step into his path, cracking my knuckles.“You wanna say that again, rich boy?”

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