Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO Chapter 79: Sultry Rhythms

LEONARDO ANNISON

Oliver’s fingers twisted into the fabric of my shirt, anchoring to him as if he knew I was one breath away from pulling back. The music slowed, a sultry rhythm that matched the way his body moved against mine—too close, too deliberate. His pulse thrumd beneath my palm where it rested against his waist, a rapid staccato that betrayed the confidence in his smirk.

This is dangerous.

Not just the way he looked at —like I was sothing to be unraveled—but the fact that he was here, in a room full of people who would use him against without hesitation. My family’s enemies didn’t play fair. They didn’t hesitate. And Oliver? He was a flashing neon sign of vulnerability, bright and impossible to ignore.

"You’re thinking too hard," Oliver murmured, his breath warm against my jaw. His fingers loosened their grip on my shirt, sliding up to my collar, adjusting it with a casualness that belied the tension between us.

I caught his wrist before he could pull away. "You shouldn’t be here."

His eyebrow arched. "At the party? Or in your personal space?"

Both.

But the words lodged in my throat. Because the truth was, I didn’t want him to step back. The way he fit against , the way his defiance lit sothing reckless in my chest—it was intoxicating. And that was the problem.

"Charles was right," I said instead, forcing my voice low, controlled. "You don’t know what you’re getting into."

Oliver stilled, his playful expression flickering. "Ah. So this is about him."

"It’s about survival." My grip on his waist tightened. "You don’t understand the kind of people—"

"I understand enough." His fingers pressed against my chest, right over the scar hidden beneath my shirt. The one I’d gotten three years ago when a business rival decided a bullet was a more effective negotiation tactic than a contract. "You think I haven’t noticed the way your family watches you? The way you watch them?"

A cold weight settled in my gut. He’d seen too much.

The music swelled around us, but the room felt too quiet, too exposed. Anyone could be listening. Anyone could be watching.

"Oliver," I warned.

He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "Tell to leave, then. Right now. And an it."

My jaw locked.

I should. God, I should.

But the thought of him walking away—of never feeling this heat between us again—was worse than the fear of what might happen if he stayed.

I didn’t answer.

Oliver pulled back just enough to et my eyes, his own dark with sothing unreadable. "That’s what I thought."

Then his mouth was on mine.

It wasn’t gentle. It was a challenge, a claiming, a promise. And I was lost.

My hands slid into his hair, holding him there as if he might vanish. The taste of him—whiskey and sothing sweet—drowned out every rational thought. The world narrowed to the press of his body, the way he sighed into , the way his fingers dug into my shoulders like he was afraid I’d let go.

A sharp laugh cut through the haze.

I tore myself away, heart hamring. Across the room, Charles stood with a glass in hand, watching us with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes.

Fuck.

Oliver followed my gaze, his brow furrowing. "Problem?"

"We need to go." I caught his hand, pulling him toward the nearest exit before Charles could decide to intervene. Before anyone else could get too interested in Oliver’s presence at my side.

He didn’t resist, but as we slipped into the dimly lit hallway, he tugged to a stop. "Leo."

The sound of my na on his lips was a knife to my ribs.

"This isn’t a ga," I said, voice rough. "You can’t just—kiss in front of them and expect nothing to happen."

Oliver’s gaze didn’t waver. "I know it’s not a ga. But I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you just because you’re scared."

Scared.

The word hit like a slap. I was scared. Not for myself—I’d made my peace with the target on my back years ago. But Oliver? He was a spark in a room full of gunpowder.

And I was the match that would burn him alive.

I cupped his face, my thumb brushing over his bottom lip. "You don’t know what you’re asking for."

He turned his head, pressing a kiss to my palm. "Then show ."

The hallway was empty. The party was a distant hum. And Oliver was looking at like I was the only thing that mattered.

I was going to regret this.

But as I backed him against the wall and claid his mouth again, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Let the world watch.

Let them co.

I’d destroy every last one of them before I let Oliver pay for my sins.

Oliver lted against , his body arching into the heat between us as my hands slid down to grip his hips. His breath hitched when I bit down on his lower lip, just hard enough to make him gasp. The sound went straight to my gut, igniting a hunger I hadn’t let myself acknowledge until now.

This is a mistake.

But God, it was a sweet one.

I dragged my mouth along his jaw, down the column of his throat, feeling the frantic pulse beneath my lips. He tasted like salt and recklessness, like everything I shouldn’t want but couldn’t stop craving. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling just enough to sting, and I groaned against his skin.

"You’re going to be the death of ," I muttered.

Oliver laughed, breathless. "Dramatic."

I pulled back just enough to glare at him. "You have no idea what you’re playing with."

His smile faded, replaced by sothing sharper, darker. "Then stop treating like I’ll break."

I wanted to shake him. To kiss him until neither of us could think straight. To lock him sowhere far away from the vipers circling us.

A door creaked open down the hall.

Instinct kicked in. I shoved Oliver behind , shielding him with my body before I even registered the movent.

Charles leaned against the doorway, swirling his drink with a smirk. "Am I interrupting?"

Oliver stiffened behind , but before he could speak, I cut in. "What do you want?"

Charles’s gaze flicked between us, lingering on Oliver’s kiss-swollen lips. "Just checking on my favorite cousin." His tone was light, but the warning in his eyes was clear. You’re being careless.

Oliver stepped around , chin lifted. "We’re fine."

Charles’s smirk widened. "Oh, I can see that."

I clenched my fists. If he so much as looked at Oliver wrong—

"Relax, Leo." Charles held up his hands. "I’m not here to fight. Just to remind you that not everyone at this party is fond of distractions."

A chill slithered down my spine.

He wasn’t talking about himself.

Soone else had noticed Oliver.

And that ant we were already out of ti.