Succubi Chapter 230. An Expensive Boyfriend
Succubi Chapter 230. An Expensive Boyfriend
At first, she was hesitant. Not clumsy. Alyra had too much control for that. But there was caution in her body, like she didn’t fully trust me not to mess up the rhythm and embarrass us both in front of every watching noble.
Fair.
Honestly, I wouldn’t have trusted me either.
But then I adjusted.
Matched her.
Led with just enough pressure, followed when the pattern needed it, guided the turn without forcing. My body remembered what my eyes learned seconds ago. The rhythm entered my feet, then my shoulders, then my breathing.
Alyra noticed.
Her hesitation melted.
The tension in her waist softened under my hand.
Her steps became smoother, closer, more confident. We turned with the other couples, black and silver against her dark elegance, moving under the chandelier like we had done this before.
We hadn’t.
But lies were all about confidence.
The beautiful ones especially.
As we danced, I caught something else.
The way Alyra looked at me had changed again. There was a blush. Faint, but there. Her eyes kept finding mine, then moving away. Nervous, but not afraid. Excited, but trying to hide it under etiquette. Like she had hired a weapon and suddenly realized the weapon could smile, bow, dance, and make her ex look like a cheap decoration.
My Pride liked that. Too much.
So I leaned forward slightly.
Not enough to be inappropriate.
Enough that anyone watching would see closeness.
My lips neared her ear, and my voice dropped beneath the music. “This isn’t your first dance,” I murmured. “But… you look nervous.”
Alyra’s fingers tightened on my shoulder. “I’m not.”
“Convincing.”
She shot me a small glare, but the effect was ruined by the blush. “I’m just shocked,” she said quietly.
“By what?”
“How well you can turn into this.”
“This?”
Her eyes moved over my face again. “You don’t look like an academy student anymore. Or Rogue Mask E.”
I smiled. “Good.”
The corner of her mouth curved.
I guided her through another turn, watching the light move across her face. “Then what do I look like?”
Alyra didn’t answer immediately.
She looked at me.
Really looked.
Finally, she said softly, “An expensive boyfriend.”
I smiled.
Couldn’t help it.
That answer was too good.
“Expensive?” I repeated. “My payment agrees.”
Her laugh came quietly, close enough that I felt it more than heard it.
For a few breaths, the mission almost felt easy.
Alyra in my arms. Music around us. Nobles watching. Cassian probably suffering somewhere behind us. Mirena calculating something poisonous with her green tea soul.
Actually.
Wait.
I glanced past Alyra’s shoulder.
There.
Cassian Vale and Mirena Sol had stepped onto the dance floor.
And somehow by “pure coincidence”, they began dancing near us.
My eyes narrowed slightly.
Alyra noticed the shift in my posture. “What?”
“Vale and Sol joined the floor.”
Her expression stayed calm, but her gaze flicked sideways.
Cassian’s face carried polite irritation. Mirena’s smile looked sweet enough to rot teeth. They moved smoothly at first, circling closer with every turn. Not obvious. Just enough to enter our rhythm’s space.
So that was the plan.
Rich people truly weaponized everything.
I adjusted my hold on Alyra. “Stay with my lead,” I whispered.
Her eyes returned to mine.
She understood immediately.
We continued dancing.
Mirena laughed softly at something Cassian said, then let her foot slide just a little too far.
Fake clumsy.
Her body tilted toward Cassian as if she had stumbled into his embrace, fragile and pretty and helpless.
But her movement had another effect.
It pushed Cassian’s turn wider.
Which pushed their space into ours and would force Alyra to step back.
And behind Alyra, dancing too close, was another couple.
A man with dark hair and a lazy smile who had been glancing at Alyra since we entered the floor. Not subtle, nor respectful. His gaze lingered too long on her shoulders, her waist, the curve of her dress. His partner, a woman in pale green, had noticed too. Jealousy sharpened her face every time his eyes wandered.
If Alyra stumbled into that man? Disaster.
He would catch her too intimately.
His partner would look offended.
Whispers would bloom.
Mirena would gasp and pretend concern.
Cassian would smile.
Alyra would become the center of an ugly little scene.
Unfortunately for them, I had spent the past year being sabotaged by life itself.
This?
This was beginner difficulty. Not even Queenie’s level.
The moment Mirena’s fake stumble triggered the chain, I moved.
Alyra’s balance shifted as expected. Her foot caught the edge of space she wasn’t supposed to lose. Her eyes widened for half a second.
I tightened my hand at her waist and caught her before gravity could betray us.
Then I spun.
Full romantic drama.
The kind Queenie used to watch on television while hugging her pillow and sighing like she personally deserved a prince, a palace, and three jealous stepsisters to defeat. I always found those scenes cringe. The slow-motion rescue. The elegant turn. The heroine falling just enough for the hero to catch her. The eye contact. The music swelling at exactly the right moment like the orchestra had a sixth sense for romance.
Cringe.
Ridiculous.
Unrealistic.
And apparently useful.
My learning caught it.
And now I was weaponizing Cinderella against nobles.
My body moved before my brain finished mocking it.
I pulled Alyra away from the collision, pivoted around Mirena’s forced path, and guided her into a sweeping turn. Her dress flared dark around her legs. My coat followed like shadow. The movement carried us out of danger and back into rhythm so smoothly that it didn’t look like an escape.
It looked like a scene from a romance movie, live.
Alyra gasped softly as she landed closer against me than before, one hand pressed to my shoulder, the other still caught in mine. Her face was inches from mine.
The ballroom noticed.
The couple behind us halted. The lustful man blinked, denied his opportunity, and his jealous partner’s expression eased into surprise. Mirena froze halfway through her own fake recovery. Cassian caught her, yes, but his eyes were on us.
And the music?
The damn music swelled.
Perfect!
The musicians deserved tips.
I held Alyra there for half a heartbeat longer than necessary.
Why?
First, I was a Pride demon.
Attention was not a weakness.
It was nutrition.
Second, maybe this would make me get more tips.
Because yes, this was technically a mission. A paid mission. And if nobles loved romance-movie nonsense so much that they started whispering, gasping, and clapping behind their fans, then who was I to deny the performance?