Natasha's POV
Natasha stared at the threatening text, her vision blurring at the edges.
Beautiful dress, Tasha. Shame about what's going to happen to it. Check the ladies' room. Second stall. You have five minutes before I send the photos to every news outlet in the city.
The attached image showed her and Elias's signed contract, every damning word clearly visible.
What's wrong? Elias's voice cut through her panic.
Natasha looked up at him, her throat tight. They were surrounded by hundreds of people, photographers still lingering near the entrance, Richard probably watching them from somewhere in the crowd.
She couldn't tell him here. Couldn't let anyone see her panic.
I need to use the restroom, she said, forcing her voice to stay steady.
Elias's eyes narrowed. He knew something was wrong. I'll wait for you.
No. The word came out too sharp. Natasha softened her tone. I mean, your grandmother is watching. Go talk to her. I'll be right back.
She didn't wait for his response. She turned and walked toward the hallway leading to the restrooms, her heels clicking against the marble floor, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might break through her ribs.
The ladies' room was empty, thank God. Natasha pushed open the door to the second stall with shaking hands.
A manila envelope sat on the closed toilet seat.
Natasha picked it up carefully, as if it might explode. Inside were printed photographs—dozens of them. Her and Elias signing the contract. Her entering Chen Ventures that first day. James handing her the black card outside her apartment.
Whoever had been watching them had documented everything.
A note was paper-clipped to the photos, handwritten in neat block letters:
You have two choices, Tasha. Option one: End the fake relationship tonight. Walk away from Elias Chen publicly and completely. Tell him you made a mistake, that you can't handle his world, whatever lie you want. Do this, and these photos disappear forever. Option two: Continue the charade. In that case, I'll send these to every major news outlet by midnight. Elias loses his company. You lose your payout. Everyone loses. You have until 11 PM to decide. I'll be watching.
Natasha's hands trembled as she read the note again. Eleven PM. That gave her less than two hours.
Someone wanted her away from Elias badly enough to blackmail her. But who? And why?
The obvious answer was Richard—he had the most to gain from destroying Elias's relationship. But the note felt personal, like whoever wrote it knew her. Cared about her, in some twisted way.
End the fake relationship tonight.
If she did that, Elias would lose everything. His company, his position, everything he'd built. And she'd lose her only chance at revenge against Marcus and Simone.
But if she didn't, they'd both be destroyed anyway when the photos went public.
The bathroom door opened, making Natasha jump. She shoved the envelope into her clutch and stepped out of the stall.
A woman in an elegant red dress stood at the mirror, reapplying lipstick. She glanced at Natasha with casual disinterest, then went back to her reflection.
Natasha washed her hands with shaking fingers, her mind racing. She needed to tell Elias. They needed to figure out who was doing this and stop them before eleven PM.
But first, she needed to get through the rest of this gala without falling apart.
She walked back into the ballroom on legs that felt like water. The crowd had thinned slightly as people moved toward the auction area. Natasha scanned the room for Elias.
She found him near the windows, talking to an elderly woman in an elegant black dress who could only be his grandmother, Meilin Chen.
Natasha started toward them, but a hand caught her elbow.
She spun around to find Marcus standing way too close, his expression desperate rather than cruel.
We need to talk, he said quietly. Please, Tasha. Just five minutes.
I have nothing to say to you. Natasha tried to pull her arm free, but his grip tightened.
Richard is dangerous. You don't understand what you've gotten yourself into with Elias Chen. That family destroys people.
The concern in his voice sounded almost genuine. Almost.
Like you destroyed me? Natasha hissed. You have nerve talking about people being dangerous when you fabricated evidence to ruin my career.
Marcus flinched. I didn't have a choice. Richard—he knew things about me, about my past. He threatened to expose me if I didn't help him take you down.
Natasha's stomach dropped. What are you talking about?
My journalism credentials, my degree from Columbia—they're fake. I bought them online six years ago. Richard found out somehow and he said he'd expose everything unless I helped destroy your reputation. Marcus's voice cracked. I didn't want to hurt you. I loved you. But I couldn't lose everything.
The confession should have made Natasha feel vindicated. Instead, she just felt sick.
So you sacrificed me to save yourself, she said flatly.
I'm trying to warn you now! Richard is planning something tonight. Something that involves you and Elias. I heard him on the phone earlier talking about eleven PM and photographs and—
Let go of my girlfriend.
Elias's voice was ice-cold. He appeared beside them, his expression murderous as he looked at Marcus's hand still gripping Natasha's arm.
Marcus released her immediately and stepped back. I was just—
You were just leaving, Elias interrupted. Before I have security remove you from this event and ensure you never attend another one in this city.
Marcus looked at Natasha with something that might have been genuine regret. Be careful, Tasha. Please.
He disappeared into the crowd.
Natasha stood there, her mind spinning with Marcus's warning. Richard was behind the blackmail. Which meant this was about destroying Elias, and she was just collateral damage.
What did he want? Elias asked, his hand settling on her lower back—a touch that was becoming familiar, grounding.
To warn me about your cousin. Natasha looked up at him. We need to talk. Somewhere private.
Elias's eyes searched her face. My grandmother wants to meet you first. Can it wait ten minutes?
Natasha glanced at her phone. 9:47 PM. She had just over an hour before the photos went public.
Ten minutes, she agreed.
Elias led her across the ballroom to where Meilin Chen waited, watching them with sharp, intelligent eyes that reminded Natasha uncomfortably of her grandson's.
Grandmother, Elias said, his voice softening slightly. This is Natasha Quinn.
Meilin extended her hand, and Natasha shook it carefully. The older woman's grip was surprisingly strong.
Ms. Quinn. My grandson speaks very highly of you.
He does? The words slipped out before Natasha could stop them.
Meilin's lips curved into a knowing smile. Not in words, perhaps. But Elias has never brought a woman to a family event before. That speaks volumes.
Natasha felt heat creep up her neck. We've only been dating a short time—
Long enough for him to look at you the way he's looking at you now, Meilin interrupted gently. Like you're the only person in this entire room who matters.
Natasha glanced at Elias, whose expression had gone carefully neutral. But there was something in his eyes, something that made her pulse quicken.
I'll leave you two alone, Meilin said, her smile widening. But Natasha, I hope you'll visit me soon. I'd love to get to know the woman who finally got through my grandson's walls.
She walked away, leaving Natasha and Elias standing together in awkward silence.
I don't look at you any particular way, Elias said stiffly.
Your grandmother seems to think otherwise.
My grandmother sees what she wants to see.
Does she? Natasha turned to face him fully. Because right now, I'm having trouble figuring out what's real and what's performance.
Something flickered across Elias's face. What do you mean?
I mean when you touch me, when you stand close like this, when you defend me against Marcus—is that all just part of the contract? Are you really that good at faking it?
The question hung between them, heavy with implications neither of them wanted to examine.
Elias stepped closer, close enough that Natasha could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone with unexpected gentleness.
What if I told you I don't know anymore? he said quietly. What if I told you that somewhere between signing that contract and watching you walk into this gala wearing that dress, the lines started blurring?
Natasha's breath caught. This wasn't supposed to happen. They had rules, boundaries, a clear professional arrangement.
But the way he was looking at her right now didn't feel professional at all.
Elias— she started.
Her phone alarm went off, shrill and insistent. 10:30 PM. Thirty minutes until the blackmailer's deadline.
The moment shattered.
Natasha stepped back, her heart racing for entirely different reasons now. We need to talk. Now. Somewhere private where no one can hear us.
Elias's expression shifted immediately from vulnerable to business-sharp. My car. Come on.
He took her hand and led her through the crowd, out the side entrance where his driver waited. They climbed into the back of the town car, and Elias pressed the privacy screen button, sealing them off from the driver.
What's going on? he demanded.
Natasha pulled the envelope from her clutch and handed it to him.
She watched his face as he examined the photographs, read the note. His expression went from concerned to furious in seconds.
Richard, he said flatly.
That's what I thought too. But look at the handwriting. Look at the phrasing. Natasha pointed at the note. This feels personal. Like someone who knows me. Who maybe even thinks they're protecting me.
Elias studied the note more carefully. Then his eyes widened.
Simone, he said.
The name hit Natasha like a slap. Of course. Her former best friend who'd betrayed her but still probably thought she was doing the right thing. Who'd seen Natasha with Elias tonight and realized the relationship might be fake.
She's trying to save me, Natasha whispered. In her twisted way, she thinks she's protecting me from making another mistake.
Can you call her? Convince her to back down?
She won't answer my calls. We haven't spoken in six months.
Elias checked his watch. We have twenty-seven minutes to find her and stop this before she sends those photos.
Or, Natasha said slowly, I do what she wants. I end the relationship tonight, publicly, and the photos disappear.
Silence filled the car.
Elias looked at her, his expression unreadable. Is that what you want?
No, Natasha admitted. But if we don't find her in time, we both lose everything anyway.
Then we find her. Elias pulled out his phone and called James. I need you to locate Simone Park. She's at the gala. Find her in the next twenty minutes or we're finished.
He hung up and looked at Natasha.
We're not giving up, he said firmly. We're not letting them win.
Natasha wanted to believe him. But looking at those photographs, at the evidence of their deception spread out between them, she couldn't shake the feeling that they'd already lost.
Her phone buzzed. Another text from the unknown number:
Time's running out, Tasha. Make your choice. Save yourself, or destroy everyone you've dragged into this mess. Your move.
Natasha showed the message to Elias.
His jaw clenched. We'll find her.
But Natasha saw something in his eyes she'd never seen before.
Fear.
Elias Chen, the man who controlled everything, was afraid of losing.
And somehow, that made her even more terrified.