Elena stood in front of the mirror, smoothing her hands down the champagne-toned silk of her dress, trying to steady the fluttering in her stomach.
The gown hugged her waist, falling into a soft, elegant drape, simple, refined, but stunning in its quiet way.
Her hair fell in loose, glossy waves over one shoulder, framing her olive-green eyes that shimmered subtly under warm-toned shadow.
A pair of delicate diamond earrings caught the light every time she moved.
She looked… older. Softer. Surreal.
A soft chime echoed through the hallway.
Her heart jumped.
He's here.
She took several deep breaths to calm her nerves down and hurried downstairs and opened the door—and froze.
Nathan stood on the porch, framed by the evening glow, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tux. The crisp white shirt emphasized his shoulders, the jacket hugging his lean frame. His hair was styled with that effortless precision he always had, polished, powerful, controlled.
But it was his expression that stole her breath.
His eyes swept over her slowly, starting from the waves of her hair, down the curve of her shoulders, following the line of her dress all the way to the floor… and then back up again.
Something dark flickered in his gaze. Something she couldn't quite read.
"Elena…" he exhaled, almost under his breath. "You look… unbelievable."
She felt the heat rise to her cheeks.
"Thank you."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to something smoother.
"No," he said, eyes lingering on her lips, "I mean it. I've never seen you like this. You're… breathtaking."
Her breath stuttered.
Nathan extended his hand toward her.
"Shall we?"
She slipped her fingers into his and felt the warmth of his palm close around hers. Steady, confident, possessive without being forceful.
As he led her toward the car, she caught him stealing another glance at her, jaw tightening the way it always did when he was trying to keep himself composed.
When they reached the car door, he paused still holding her hand.
"Elena," he murmured, leaning slightly closer, "you are going to ruin me tonight."
Her heart nearly stopped.
She couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except stand there while he opened the door for her.
She slid into the seat, still dazed.
Nathan rounded the car, got in beside her, and started the engine.
The soft lights of the dashboard cast a glow across his face, sharp and devastating.
He glanced at her once more.
"Ready?" he asked gently.
She nodded.
But the truth was—she didn't feel ready at all.
Not for the gala.
Not for the way he was looking at her.
Not for the way her heart reacted every single time he said her name.
And definitely not for the night that was waiting for her.
The drive to the venue felt shorter than it should have.
Her heartbeat had settled… until the car rolled to a slow halt.
A wave of bright, frantic flashes lit up the night.
Paparazzi.
Elena inhaled sharply.
The entrance of the gala shimmered with gold lights, a deep-blue carpet stretching toward towering glass doors.
Photographers lined both sides, cameras raised, flashes bursting like electric fireflies. Luxury cars pulled in one after another, spilling out politicians, CEOs, models, and socialites.
Nathan stepped out first.
And instantly—flashes exploded.
He looked like he belonged here.
Composed.
Unbothered.
A man used to attention.
He moved to her side and opened her door.
"Elena," he murmured, offering his hand again, "don't be nervous. I've got you."
She placed her hand in his for support.
The moment she stepped out, cameras aimed at her too.
Voices mixed with shutter clicks:
"Who's she?"
"That's Nathan Brown—he never brings a date."
"Is she new?"
"She's stunning, look at that dress—"
The lights were blinding, dizzying.
She clung a little tighter to Nathan's hand.
He leaned closer, lips brushing her ear.
"Just keep your eyes on me."
She did.
And somehow, the chaos softened.
Nathan guided her inside quickly—the world shifting from sharp flashes into warm, golden light.
The ballroom was breathtaking.
Crystal chandeliers.
Velvet drapes.
Soft orchestral music drifting through a sea of expensive perfume and polished confidence.
But it wasn't the beauty that made her stiffen.
It was the people.
Nathan's colleagues, older men and women in immaculate suits noticed them immediately.
Their eyes flicked between her and Nathan with curiosity… and something else she couldn't place.
A group of his associates approached, three men, one woman.
"Nathan," one of them drawled with a grin, "you always manage to find the interesting ones."
Her stomach tightened.
Interesting ones?
Another chuckled, eyes sweeping over her politely but sharply.
"This one is an amusing choice. Didn't expect your type to change."
Type?
What's his regular, usual type?
Elena's grip on Nathan's arm faltered.
Nathan's smile sharpened but stayed cool and controlled.
"Behave," he warned lightly, though there was an edge beneath it.
The woman in the group leaned slightly closer to him.
"So this is the one you're pursuing, nowadays ?"
Pursuing.
The word hit Elena like a flick to the chest.
Before she could speak, Nathan slipped a hand around her waist. Firm, protective, possessive.
"Yes," he said calmly. "She is."
A murmur passed through the group.
A knowing look.
Then a laugh.
What? Why am I the centre of attention here?
"Well then," one of them said lightly, "good luck keeping this one."
"What does that mean?" Elena asked before she could stop herself. She couldn't contain the comments pointed at her.
Four amused smiles.
Four glances that made her feel… evaluated.
Nathan didn't let her hear the answer.
He cut in instantly, voice silk-smooth:
"Dance with me."
"What—?"
"Now," he whispered, already guiding her away.
She had never seen him like this. Cold, business-like, and far from reach.
Did I make a mistake by agreeing on that deal? This is certainly not a place where I belong!
Her questions dissolved as he pulled her toward the ballroom floor.
Not harshly—just decisively.
Like he needed her away from them before they said too much.
When his hand settled on her waist, she felt her heartbeat jump.
But her mind didn't quiet.
I don't belong here. I don't think I could ever be a part of this society!
Those colleagues knew something.
Something she didn't.
It felt like a ridicule! Were they belittling me?
As they moved into position, she couldn't help herself.
"Nathan," she couldn't keep herself from asking him, "what did they mean? About your 'type' changing?"
His hand tightened fractionally at her waist.
"They're just surprised," he said smoothly. "Usually I don't mix business with pleasure. But you…" His eyes softened. "You're different."
"And what did they mean about 'keeping' me?"
A shadow crossed his face there and gone.
"They're being crude. Ignore them. People in this world… they see relationships as transactions. They can't understand what we have."
The sincerity in his voice made her doubt vanish a little.
He pulled her closer, and she let herself believe him.
She wanted to believe him.
Nathan leaned down, brushing his cheek against hers in a gesture intimate enough to draw eyes away.
"Don't overthink their comments for now," he murmured.
But she couldn't help it.
Because for the first time since she'd stepped into his world—
The way they looked at her, not quite at her face, but at the space between her and Nathan, like they were measuring a distance, calculating an outcome.
She forced herself to smile.
But her stomach had gone cold.
____
Elena followed the hallway Nathan had disappeared into, the faint click of her heels the only sound echoing across the marble corridor.
She hadn't meant to look for him.
But he'd been gone too long.
As she passed a half-closed door, a voice stopped her in her tracks.
Nathan's.
Low. Controlled. Nothing like the warm softness he used with her.
> "Mom, I didn't forget what you asked me to do."
Elena froze.
Her fingers curled against her dress.
> "Everything is under control. She's getting along really well."
Her stomach twisted.
She took one step back, quietly. Her breath suddenly shallow.
> "Yes… I'm close. Closer than I planned."
Her heartbeat thudded painfully.
Who was he talking about?
> "Don't worry, this chapter will end sooner than I thought. I'll give you the 'good news' soon."
Good news?
About what?
Elena's pulse hammered against her ribs. She stepped back again, but too quickly, her heel scraped the floor.
The sharp sound cracked through the hallway.
Her breath caught.
She moved away instantly, turning the nearest corner, forcing herself to stand still and breathe but the world around her was starting to spin.
Her hand trembled against the wall.
Who was he talking about?
Why did it sound like a plan?
Why did it sound like… her?
Her chest tightened.
Before she could gather her thoughts, the bathroom door beside her swung open as someone came out. Elena slipped inside, locking the stall door behind her.
She braced both palms on the cool sink counter, trying to steady the panic fluttering beneath her ribs.
What was that conversation?
What did he mean?
What "chapter" was ending?
What "good news" was he promising?
She couldn't breathe.
Her reflection stared back at her. Pale, frightened, confused.
A knock sounded at the restroom door.
Then his voice, the warm version, the practiced version, filtered through.
"Elena? Sweetheart? Are you in here?"
Her pulse trembled painfully.
She opened the door slowly.
Nathan was already striding toward her, eyes scanning her face with concern.
"What happened?" he asked, taking long strides toward her. "Elena— I'm sorry, I had to take a few calls. But…"
He paused. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Her mouth went dry.
Her voice stuck in her throat.
"I… I just felt dizzy," she managed. "Maybe the lights."
He didn't fully believe her.
But he didn't question her, either.
He simply placed a steady hand at her back.
"Come," he murmured. "Stay with me. I'm here now."
The moment they stepped back into the ballroom, the music swelled — violins blooming through the air as glittering chandeliers washed the room in gold.
Nathan's hand stayed at the small of her back, steady, guiding, grounding.
"Nathan!"
A deep voice called out.
A man in a sharp charcoal suit strode toward them with a grin that stretched wide. His hair was tousled from travel, tie loosened like he'd thrown it on the moment he landed.
"Kyle," Nathan exhaled, some real warmth spreading through his expression for the first time since they reached here. "You finally made it."
"Man, I'm sorry I'm late. My flight got cancelled. Had to switch airports. Total nightmare."
Kyle clapped Nathan's shoulder before turning and freezing as he took in Elena.
"Well, well," he said with a slow smile. "Who's this gorgeous woman beside you?"
Nathan's hand pressed subtly against Elena's back as he answered,
"Elena, this is Kyle — my closest friend. Kyle, Elena. My childhood friend… and the woman I'm dating."
The words hit her like a warm jolt.
Dating.
He said it out loud.
In public.
To someone close to him.
Kyle took her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing a gentleman's kiss across her knuckles.
"A pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Elena. My man here has gone completely nuts about you."
Elena flicked a quick glance toward Nathan.
He told Kyle about me?
Maybe… maybe the phone call wasn't about her.
Maybe she misunderstood.
Her heart steadied just enough to breathe normally again.
Nathan's arm slipped loosely around her waist subtle, possessive.
Kyle turned back to Nathan with a playful smirk. "Mind if I steal her for a dance?"
Nathan's entire expression shifted, a flash of annoyance so quick it might've been imagined.
"No," he said flatly. "I like to keep her close."
Kyle burst into laughter.
"Mr. possessive-don't-touch-my-property. Come on, man. I'll return her safely."
Nathan looked at Elena, something like a silent question in his eyes.
She nodded gently. "Of course, Kyle. I'd love to join you."
Kyle extended his arm, theatrically formal. Elena placed her hand in his, and he guided her toward the dance floor.
As they moved, Elena could feel Nathan's eyes on her sharp, fixed, even while he appeared engaged in conversation with a group of suited men.
Kyle noticed her glance. "Ignore him," he chuckled. "He's always been like this. Watches everything."
They settled into a slow rhythm, Kyle leading with an easy confidence.
"It's really a pleasure to meet you in person, Elena," he said. "I've never seen Nathan talk about any girl the way he talked about you."
Her brows lifted in curiosity. "He… talked about me?"
"Oh definitely." Kyle grinned. "Mind you, he's not much of a talker. You must've noticed by now."
Elena let out a small laugh. "That's true. He… doesn't say much."
"That's why it surprised me. Seeing him mention a girl out of nowhere?" Kyle shook his head. "Completely out of character. But now that I've met you… I get it. He's made a good choice this time."
She blushed, eyes dropping.
"He's completely infatuated with you, you know," Kyle added lightly.
She swallowed softly. "Thank you. And… really? He doesn't seem emotional at all."
"Oh, he hides that perfectly," Kyle said. "But beneath the sharp edges? He's surprisingly soft. Emotional. And ridiculously possessive about the people he loves."
Elena blinked.
He loves? No… that can't be what he meant.
"I hope he opens up," she said quietly. "Sometimes… he feels far away."
"He will," Kyle said, reassuringly. "Give him time. You're good for him, I can see it."
Elena smiled, but something in his tone made her pause.
"How long have you known him?"
"Since when he came to The States, I was his nosy neighbour" Kyle chuckled softly. "We've been through a lot together. I've seen him at his best…" He hesitated, just for a beat. "And his worst."
"His worst?"
Kyle's smile flickered. "Nothing dramatic. Just… when Nathan sets his mind on something, he's relentless. Doesn't stop until he gets it. It's what makes him successful in business."
The song dimmed toward its final notes.
Before it even ended, Nathan appeared at their side.
"Okay, time's up, Kyle."
His tone was smooth, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable.
"Give me my girl back."
Kyle laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Giving her back in one piece, brother. All yours."
Nathan stepped forward, claiming Elena's hand gently but decisively.
"I hope he behaved?" he asked, eyes flickering to her lips.
Elena smiled softly. "He's a gentleman."
Her nerves felt quite at peace after talking to him.
"Hm." Nathan's gaze burned a moment too long on Kyle before returning to her.
"Shall we leave?"
Elena nodded — maybe too quickly. She wanted this nightmare of a Gala to be over now.
"Yes," she breathed. "Let's go."
She didn't trust herself to stay here a moment longer.
Not with the questions in her chest still echoing.
Not with the way Nathan's careful tenderness contrasted so sharply with the words she'd overheard.
Not when every step deeper into his world felt like stepping into something she could no longer see clearly.
She slipped her hand into his.
Nathan's hand was warm in hers, his thumb tracing small circles on her skin, the same gesture he'd done a hundred times before.
She looked up at him. He smiled down at her, eyes soft in the streetlight. The commanding, business-like aura was gone.
This was real.
It had to be.
She pushed everything else away and smiled back.
Behind them, through the ballroom windows, she didn't see the way his expression shifted the moment she looked away.
Didn't see the way his jaw tightened.
Didn't see the brief, cold calculation that flickered across his face before the mask slid back into place.
She only felt his hand squeeze hers.
And chose to believe that was enough.