Shadow of Saul

Chapter 6. The lone wolf.

The interior of the Grand Hotel’s ballroom was a sensory overload of gold leaf, crystal chandeliers, and the suffocating scent of old money. 

It was a world Daniella had spent three years clawing her way into, a world she had sacrificed her marriage to secure.

And yet, standing there in her shimmering silver gown, clutching the arm of the man who was supposed to be her golden ticket, she felt a distinct, gnawing discomfort.

Her eyes kept drifting. 

Not to the heavy velvet curtains or the waiters circulating with trays of caviar, but to the couple moving through the crowd like a pair of apex predators.

Veronica Hale was truly a divine beauty as she walked through the hall like she owned them, her midnight tuxedo dress cutting a sharp silhouette against the sea of pastel ballgowns. 

And Saul...

Daniella swallowed hard. Saul looked different. 

It wasn't just the suit, though the tailoring was exquisite, hugging his broad shoulders in a way his old flannel shirts never did. It was the way he held himself. 

The slump of the beaten-down man was gone, replaced by a rigid, dangerous stillness.

"Stop staring," Ephraim hissed, his fingers tightening painfully on her elbow. "You’re giving him the attention he craves."

"I’m not staring," Daniella lied, snapping her gaze back to her fiancé. "I’m just... confused. Why would a woman like Director Hale associate with him? It doesn't make sense, Ephraim."

Ephraim scoffed, adjusting his silk tie. "It’s obvious, isn't it? She’s using him. The wretched woman probably needs a good roll in the hay every once in a while, or maybe she just likes keeping a pet around to look charitable. Don't worry, darling. Once the novelty wears off, he’ll be back to mixing cement."

As if on cue, a group of guests swarmed toward them. 

These were the vultures of the business world; CEOs of mid-tier tech firms, real estate developers, people desperate to get close to the Moore family fortune.

"Mr. Moore!" a balding man with a red face exclaimed, extending a sweaty hand. "I heard about the merger. Brilliant move. And this must be the lovely Daniella. Oh you are absolutely gorgeous! You two are the power couple of the century!"

Ephraim preened, his chest puffing out. "Thank you, Mr. Henderson. We do try. Daniella is the perfect partner for the empire I’m building."

"Indeed, indeed," Henderson agreed, bobbing his head. "You’re certainly the kings of the night. Though, I hear the auction list is particularly fierce this evening. Have you heard about the centerpiece?"

Ephraim raised a brow, feigning disinterest. "I’ve seen the catalog. Nothing I can't handle."

"Oh, but this is special," Henderson lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Item number forty-five. The Twin Wolf Ring. It’s from the private vault of Magnus Haruno himself."

The name sent a ripple of nervous energy through the small circle. Magnus Haruno. 

The President of the Business Association. 

A man whose reputation was built on ruthlessness and a rumored connection to the old underworld syndicates.

"Mr. Haruno released a piece?" Ephraim’s eyes lit up with greed. To own something from Haruno’s collection wasn't just about art; it was a political statement. It showed you had the power to play in the big leagues.

"I’ll have it," Ephraim declared loudly, making sure his voice carried. "Consider it already on my finger. A little trinket to celebrate our engagement, wouldn't you say, Daniella?" He nudged her, giving the woman a leering grin.

"It sounds lovely," Daniella murmured, forcing a smile.

"Bold words for a man whose credit limit is currently under review."

Immediately, the circle of sycophants parted like the Red Sea. Veronica stood there, a champagne flute dangling loosely from her fingers, a look of utter boredom on her face. 

Saul stood silently beside her, his expression unreadable.

Ephraim’s face turned a blotchy shade of red. "Excuse me? My credit is impeccable, Director. Unlike the company you keep." He shot a sneer at Saul.

"If you say so," Veronica drawled, taking a sip of her drink. "But bragging about buying a ring? How pedestrian. If my associate here wanted to, he could buy this entire auction house, burn it down, and build a parking lot on the ashes just for the view."

For a second, there was silence. 

Pfft.

And just like that, laughter rippled through the group. 

It started with Ephraim, a harsh, barking sound, and spread to Henderson and the others.

"Oh, that’s rich!" Ephraim wiped a tear from his eye. "Saul? Buying the auction house? The man couldn't buy a sandwich this morning without a coupon! Oh, Director, you have a wicked sense of humor."

"He’s a useless ex-husband," Henderson chimed in, eager to please Ephraim. "I heard he was begging for scraps at the construction site just this afternoon."

"How did he trick you, Director?" another woman asked, looking at Saul with open disgust. "Did he give you a sob story about his 'amnesia'?"

The mockery washed over them, a tide of high-pitched giggles and scorn. 

Daniella looked at Saul, expecting him to shrink, to look at his shoes, to rage even if it came to that, to be the embarrassed man she remembered.

But Saul didn't flinch. He didn't even look at the people mocking him.

He was looking at the stage, where a covered podium stood.

"I don't want the auction house," Saul said. His voice wasn't loud, but it had a timbre that cut through the laughter, silencing it instantly. It was the low rumble of a shifting tectonic plate.

He turned his dark eyes toward Ephraim. "But that ring... that ring is mine."

Ephraim stared at him, stunned by the sheer audacity. Then, his face twisted into a mask of pure malice.

"Yours?" Ephraim stepped forward, invading Saul’s personal space. "You delusional rat. I’m going to enjoy watching you cry when the gavel drops. You don't belong here, Saul. And tonight, I’m going to prove it."

Saul didn't blink. 

"We’ll see."