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Chapter 2 – The Encounter
The next evening, Elena stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, smoothing down the crimson silk gown that clung to her curves. The invitation to the Winter Charity Gala had arrived weeks ago, back when she was still Mrs. Blackwell. She had almost tossed it aside — until her lawyer reminded her that attending such events could help her reestablish her own connections.
Connections she might need, now more than ever.
Still, as she adjusted her earrings, doubt gnawed at her. What if Alexander was there? What if people whispered behind her back again?
She straightened her shoulders. Let them whisper. Tonight wasn't about him. It was about her.
---
The Gala
The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers, golden light cascading over marble floors and guests dressed in designer gowns and tailored suits. A live orchestra played a waltz as waiters glided between tables with trays of champagne.
"Elena Moore?" a socialite whispered, eyes widening. "I thought she was—"
"Divorced," another supplied with a smirk. "She looks better without him, doesn't she?"
Elena ignored them, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Every smile, every poised step was armor.
"Miss Moore," a voice greeted warmly.
She turned to see Richard Lane, a family friend of her father's. His graying hair and kind eyes were a welcome sight.
"You're here alone?" he asked gently.
She nodded. "Is that a problem?"
"Not at all." He lowered his voice. "But be careful tonight. The sharks smell blood when they think someone is vulnerable."
Before she could reply, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
---
His Arrival
Alexander Blackwell had entered.
The crowd seemed to part for him naturally, as if the very air acknowledged his presence. Tall, commanding in a midnight-black suit, he was flanked by board members and investors eager to greet him.
But it wasn't Alexander who made Elena's stomach clench. It was the woman at his side.
Sophia Allen. Beautiful, ambitious, and notorious in business circles for her pursuit of powerful men.
Sophia's hand was hooked through Alexander's arm, her smile radiant as if she owned the night.
"Elena," Richard murmured. "You don't have to stay."
"No," Elena said quietly, though her chest ached. "Leaving would look worse."
---
The Confrontation
It didn't take long before Alexander's gaze found hers across the room. His steps slowed, his steel-gray eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Elena," Sophia said loudly as they approached, voice dripping with faux sweetness. "What a surprise! I didn't expect to see you here tonight."
Elena smiled politely. "Life is full of surprises."
Sophia leaned closer, her voice low but not low enough. "You're looking well, considering…" She let the words trail off, inviting speculation.
Alexander's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
"Don't worry," Elena said smoothly, lifting her champagne glass. "Divorce is liberating. You should try it sometime."
Several nearby guests chuckled, whispering behind their hands. Sophia's smile faltered.
Alexander's gaze, however, remained fixed on Elena — not with anger, but with something far more dangerous: curiosity.
---
The Mysterious Note
As the orchestra shifted to a new piece, Elena excused herself and slipped onto the balcony for air.
The city skyline stretched out before her, glittering like a sea of stars. She closed her eyes, letting the cold night soothe her burning cheeks.
When she opened them again, a folded piece of paper lay on the railing.
Her breath caught. She was certain it hadn't been there a moment ago.
She picked it up, hands trembling.
You're being watched. Trust no one.
No signature.
Her eyes darted around the balcony, but she saw only shadows.
---
The Dance
"Elena."
She spun around to find Alexander standing in the doorway.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," he said.
"Why? Afraid I'll embarrass you?"
He stepped closer, the city lights casting his sharp features in silver. "You embarrassed me plenty inside."
"Good," she said, turning to leave.
But he caught her wrist gently. "Dance with me."
She froze. "Excuse me?"
"One dance," he said quietly, though his eyes burned. "For appearances."
She wanted to refuse. Every rational bone in her body screamed to walk away. But the crowd inside was already watching, waiting.
And so, against her better judgment, she let him lead her back in.
---
They moved onto the dance floor, his hand firm against her waist, hers resting reluctantly on his shoulder. The music swelled, a waltz spinning them across marble.
"You've changed," he murmured, so low only she could hear.
"People change when they stop bleeding for someone who doesn't notice," she whispered back.
His grip tightened almost imperceptibly. "You think I didn't notice?"
Her laugh was bitter. "Don't pretend now, Alexander. We're over."
But his gaze told her something else entirely — that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't that simple.
---
The Intrusion
The waltz ended, and polite applause rippled through the room. Elena stepped back, ready to leave, when a waiter brushed past her with a tray.
Something slipped from beneath the tray and landed at her feet.
A photograph.
Her as a child again — this time, standing in front of that same stone mansion she didn't recognize.
She picked it up, heart pounding, and looked around.
But the waiter was gone.
---
"Elena," Alexander's voice cut through her panic. "What's that?"
She quickly hid the photograph in her clutch. "Nothing."
His eyes narrowed. "You're lying again."
Before she could respond, a familiar vibration buzzed in her clutch. She pulled out her phone.
Another unknown message lit the screen:
The Blackwells cannot protect you. Come home, Elena Hayes.
Her blood ran cold.
And this time, Alexander saw it.
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Chapter 2 – The Encounter
The orchestra's final notes faded, leaving only the buzz of murmured conversations and the clink of crystal glasses. Elena released Alexander's hand the second the applause died down, taking two swift steps backward as though distance could erase the heat of his touch.
"Thank you for the dance," she said coolly. "Now if you'll excuse me—"
"Elena." His voice carried the weight of command, honed from years of boardroom dominance. "Stop running."
Her lips curved in a humorless smile. "I stopped running the day I signed those divorce papers."
Several guests nearby were clearly eavesdropping, their gazes darting between them with poorly concealed curiosity. Sophia Allen, still standing near the champagne fountain, was glaring daggers in their direction.
Alexander noticed. His jaw tightened, but instead of stepping back, he leaned closer, lowering his voice. "We'll talk after this event. Privately."
"No," Elena said simply, turning on her heel.
---
The Shadow in the Crowd
She needed air again. Needed space. Yet every direction she turned, she felt eyes on her — not just gossiping socialites, but sharper, colder stares.
At the edge of the ballroom, a man in a gray suit lingered near the exit. He wasn't mingling, wasn't networking — just watching.
When her gaze met his, he lifted his glass slightly, almost in a toast, before slipping through the doors.
Her heart skipped. Something in his expression reminded her of the stranger from the café.
"Elena."
She startled, nearly spilling her champagne. Richard Lane had returned, concern etched into his features. "Are you alright? You look pale."
"I'm fine," she lied.
Richard hesitated, then lowered his voice. "Be careful of Alexander. Divorce or not, he doesn't let go of things he believes are his."
The words sent a shiver down her spine.
---
A Dance Interrupted
She didn't see Alexander approach until his shadow fell across her again.
"Elena, a word," he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Richard bristled. "She's under no obligation to—"
"It's alright," Elena cut in quickly. The last thing she needed was a scene.
Alexander guided her toward a quieter corridor near the gallery wing of the ballroom. His hand hovered near her elbow, not touching but close enough to remind her of old habits — habits she no longer wanted.
When they were alone, he stopped. "What was that photograph you picked up earlier?"
Her pulse leapt. "You really can't stand the idea of me having secrets, can you?"
"Not when those secrets put you in danger."
She folded her arms. "Why assume I'm in danger?"
"Because someone slipped you something in the middle of a crowded gala," he said flatly. "That's not coincidence, Elena. That's a message."
Her throat tightened, but she forced her voice steady. "So what if it is? Like I said last night — it's none of your business anymore."
---
The Near Confession
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Alexander stepped closer, lowering his head until their faces were only inches apart.
"Damn it, Elena," he muttered. "Do you really think I never cared?"
The rawness in his voice startled her.
Her breath caught. "If you cared," she whispered, "you had two years to show it."
His hand twitched at his side, as if he wanted to reach for her but restrained himself. "I made mistakes."
Her laugh was bitter. "Mistakes? That's what you call making me feel invisible in my own marriage?"
"Elena—"
"Don't," she said sharply, stepping back. "You don't get to rewrite history just because you're suddenly interested again."
The hurt in his eyes was quickly shuttered, replaced by the cold mask she knew too well.
---
Sophia's Interruption
"Alexander!"
Sophia Allen's heels clicked against the marble as she strode toward them. Her painted smile couldn't hide the irritation in her eyes.
"There you are," she said, slipping her arm through his as if staking a claim. Her gaze flicked over Elena, assessing, dismissive. "I was wondering where you'd run off to."
Elena smiled sweetly. "Don't worry, Sophia. He's all yours. I was just leaving."
Sophia's lips curved in triumph as Elena walked past — but she didn't see the way Alexander's eyes followed Elena's retreating figure, his expression unreadable.
---
Another Message
Elena made it to the coat check, relief flooding her as she prepared to leave. But as the attendant handed her clutch back, a small folded note slipped from it.
Her heart stuttered.
Hands trembling, she opened it.
He won't save you. We will. Midnight. The old stone mansion outside Ridgewood. Come alone.
This time, there was a wax seal pressed into the paper — the hawk emblem.
Her blood ran cold.
---
Elena stuffed the note into her clutch just as Alexander's voice echoed behind her again.
"Elena, wait."
She turned, mask of composure back in place, though her heart was racing.
"Yes?"
His gaze locked onto hers, piercing. "Whatever's going on with you… I won't let you face it alone."
Her lips parted in shock.
Because for the first time since she'd met him, she believed he meant it.
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