Absolute King Chapter 31.

Chapter 31: Jealousy Part 2.

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The lights dimmed, and the soft melody of violins filled the air.

On the center of the ballroom floor, Mark and Raven stood close, too close.

Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, his fingers pressed gently against the small of her back. Their bodies swayed to the rhythm, their movements slow and deliberate, as if the entire world had faded away around them. The music, the murmuring crowd, the flickering chandeliers,all of it blurred into the background, leaving only the steady heartbeat that pulsed between them.

Mark’s gaze met hers. Neither of them looked away.

There was something raw and unspoken there, an electricity neither dared to name, but both felt burning in their veins.

On the sidelines, Damian stood motionless. His eyes tracked every subtle movement, every shift of Raven’s body as she leaned into Mark’s chest. A faint tremor ran through his hand, and a vein pulsed visibly at his temple. The air around him thickened with a cold, biting intensity.

Anyone who came too close instinctively stepped back.

It wasn’t just jealousy it was something darker, more primal. The thought of Raven in another man’s arms ignited something fierce and unrestrained inside him.

He clenched his jaw.

How dare he touch her?

Across the ballroom, Kara danced with Garfield Logan - at least, her body did.

Her mind, however, was miles away, locked on the sight of Mark and Raven swaying together under the lights. Her blue eyes followed every brush of Mark’s hand, every moment Raven leaned closer. The sting in her chest deepened with every passing second.

She didn’t even realize she’d stepped on Garfield’s toes until he yelped.

“Ow! That really hurt!”

Kara gasped and pulled back. “Oh! I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Garfield waved it off with a laugh, though his wince betrayed him. “No big deal. Happens to the best of us.”

But as he looked at her, he noticed the faraway sadness in her expression ,the way her lips pressed into a forced smile, the way her shoulders sagged.

The joy she’d walked in with was gone.

He sighed softly. So it’s like that, he thought.

He could see it clearly now ,the unspoken triangle forming between Mark, Raven, and Kara. A tangle of feelings he both envied and pitied.

“Hey,” Garfield said gently, trying to lift the mood. “Don’t worry about them, alright? I bet there’s nothing going on between those two. Besides, a beautiful girl like you could catch as many fish as she wanted.”

Kara tried to smile at that, but it was a hollow effort. “Maybe. But…”

Her voice trailed off. There’s only one fish I ever wanted to catch, she thought silently.

Meanwhile, at the center of the floor, Mark and Raven had long forgotten anyone else existed.

The tempo slowed. Raven’s waist fit perfectly against his palm, her movements fluid and sensual. Her back pressed to his chest, her hips swayed lightly against his. His breath brushed the side of her neck, and he could feel her shiver under his touch.

Raven turned her head slightly, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re staring again.”

“Can you blame me?” Mark murmured, his lips dangerously close to her skin.

Her eyes fluttered shut - not to deny him, but to hide how much that voice made her pulse quicken.

To the side, Kara’s chest tightened painfully. The sight was too much. The warmth in her heart turned to ache, and before she realized it, tears had blurred her vision. She whispered a shaky excuse to Garfield and slipped away toward the hall, her heels clattering softly against the marble.

Damian saw it.

He also saw how Mark’s hands lingered on Raven’s waist, how her head rested against his shoulder. His jaw clenched, his pulse roared in his ears.

Garfield, standing nearby, noticed the storm building behind Robin’s eyes. “Hey, man…” he began cautiously, “the MVP of tonight’s party shouldn’t be standing here looking like he’s about to kill someone. Go enjoy yourself, yeah?”

Damian turned to him with a stare so cold Garfield immediately regretted speaking. The glare pierced through him, freezing the joke in his throat.

“Right,” Garfield mumbled, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll just… be over there.”

Damian looked back toward the dance floor one last time, at Mark’s grin, at Raven’s content expression feeling something inside him just cracked.

Without a word, he turned and strode off.

Garfield watched him leave, shaking his head. “Yup. Someone’s gonna die tonight,” he muttered under his breath. “Better have 911 on standby.”

Back on the dance floor, Mark was completely absorbed. Raven’s warmth against him, her scent, the sound of her quiet breath — everything pulled him deeper into a haze he didn’t want to escape.

He tightened his hold on her waist. Raven noticed. Her eyes flicked up to his, her lips curving slightly before she whispered something low against his ear.

“Come with me.”

Her tone was soft, but it carried a promise — one that sent a pulse of heat straight through him.

Mark’s thoughts spiraled. Is this it? he wondered. Is this finally happening?

He’d waited a long time for something like this — for someone like her. In the back of his head, his mind was already painting scenes of how the night might unfold, how her voice might sound when it was just the two of them.

He almost laughed at himself. Maybe I should actually thank God this Sunday.

They slipped through the crowd, Raven leading him by the hand toward the dim corridor that led deeper into the manor. The music faded behind them, replaced by the hush of quiet footsteps and the echo of his racing heart.

But then in the midst of everything,something caught his eye.

A flicker of movement in the crowd.

A silhouette. Familiar. Too familiar.

Raven turned to look at him, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”

“Just—give me a second,” Mark said, his tone suddenly sharp. He gently pulled his hand away from hers. “I’ll be right back.”

The warmth in his chest vanished, replaced by something cold and furious.

He slipped through the crowd, his eyes locked on the shadowed figure. The closer he got, the clearer she became ,the graceful posture, the deliberate movements, the way she seemed to glide through the chaos untouched.

It was her.

Lady Shiva.

The assassin who had brought hell to Santa Prisca. The woman whose actions had led to his father’s death.

She was here.

At this party.

Her hair was tied elegantly, her black dress sleek and understated, a simple eye mask covering the upper half of her face. But he’d recognize that poise anywhere — the quiet precision of every step, the lethal grace beneath it.

Rage burned through him like acid.

She stopped.

Mark froze behind a column, watching as another figure approached her — shorter, leaner, familiar.

Damian.

Mark’s heart dropped.

He saw the two exchange words, quiet but unmistakably friendly. Shiva leaned in slightly, Damian nodded once, and the two began walking toward the rear exit of the manor.

A dozen questions flooded his mind. Was Damian working with her? Did he betray us? How could he let her walk freely after everything she did?

Mark’s pulse thundered in his ears. His anger began to boil over, twisting into something dark.

Before he could act, a gentle voice cut through his thoughts.

“Mark? Where did you go?”

He turned to see Kara approaching, worry etched across her face. But before he could answer, another voice called out.

“Mark! I waited for you — where did you—”

Raven’s sentence died halfway as she caught sight of Kara beside him. The air between them instantly thickened — Kara’s expression tightened, Raven’s eyes narrowed. Silent tension sparked like electricity.

Mark barely noticed. His focus was fixed elsewhere — on Shiva and Damian slipping through the door at the end of the hall.

“Sorry, ladies,” he said quickly, his tone low and distracted. “I’ve got to go.”

He brushed past them, leaving Raven and Kara standing side by side, locked in an icy silence. Both turned to look after him — but whatever unease they felt was nothing compared to the storm that was already brewing inside him.

As the door shut behind him, the sounds of the ballroom faded, swallowed by the quiet night.

And in that darkness, Mark’s eyes burned with one emotion —

vengeance.