Grace Fletcher POV
The champagne flute almost slips from Grace's hand when Victoria Ashton walks past her like she's a ghost.
"Excuse me," Victoria says to someone behind her, not even looking at Grace. Her designer heels nearly catch on Grace's black dress, the same black dress that cost three weeks of salary and still looks cheap next to everyone else's here.
Grace steadies herself against the wall. She's used to being invisible. Three years of being invisible actually. But tonight it stings different.
The Kane Industries gala buzzes around her like she's not really part of it. Waiters in white jackets move past with trays of champagne and expensive looking things. Men in suits laugh too loud about deals and money. Women in dresses that probably cost more than Grace's entire wardrobe stand in perfect groups, their eyes always checking who's watching them.
She checks her phone. 9:47 PM. Oliver has been in the building for exactly two hours and forty-three minutes.
Not that she's counting.
Grace moves along the edge of the ballroom, staying in the shadows where she belongs. Her job tonight is simple. Stay close. Make sure Oliver has everything he needs. Keep him away from the press if they get too aggressive. Be there but not too there. Be visible but not noticed.
She's very good at this.
Across the massive room, Oliver Kane stands in the center of everything, wearing a dark suit that probably costs more than her monthly rent. His dark hair catches the light. His smile is sharp and beautiful and completely fake. She knows this because she's watched that smile a thousand times. She knows when it's real and when it's the CEO smile, the one he puts on for people who don't actually matter to him.
Tonight he's using the CEO smile.
He's laughing at something a board member said. The man next to him is talking about acquisitions or markets or something that makes their group look important. Oliver nods like he cares. His blue eyes are empty. He's not really here. He's never really here at these things.
Grace has figured out that Oliver Kane, despite having everything, is desperately lonely.
The thought makes her chest hurt in a way she's learned not to examine too closely.
"That's your boss, right?"
Grace jumps. Isabelle, her best friend and the only person in this room who actually knows her, appears beside her with two fresh glasses of champagne. Her dress is gold and she looks like she belongs here. Isabelle always looks like she belongs everywhere.
"Don't do that," Grace whispers, but she takes the champagne. The first one was gone before she realized it.
"You've been staring at him for like ten minutes," Isabelle says, not bothering to whisper. "That's not healthy, by the way."
"I'm not staring. I'm working." Grace keeps her eyes on the crowd, not on Oliver. "And keeping an eye on things like I'm supposed to."
"You're staring at your boss and pretending it's work." Isabelle raises her glass. "Very professional."
Grace elbows her and Isabelle just grins.
This is why Grace loves her. Isabelle doesn't let her hide, even when hiding is the only thing Grace knows how to do. Isabelle doesn't care that Grace is invisible. Isabelle sees her anyway.
The crowd shifts. Someone important arrives and Oliver's group turns toward them like a wave. Grace watches him shake hands, watched him use the CEO smile again. He's brilliant at this. The powerful man thing. The untouchable thing.
Grace finishes her second glass of champagne.
She shouldn't have come tonight. She should have sent another assistant. She could have managed his schedule from the office. But when Oliver asked her this morning if she'd be at the gala, his voice was casual like he didn't care, she heard something underneath it. Something that said he wanted her there.
So she came.
Now she's standing in the shadows like always, watching him like always, invisible like always.
"Okay, I'm cutting you off," Isabelle says, taking her empty glass. "You're getting that sad look and we're not doing this tonight."
"What sad look?"
"The one where you remember that he doesn't know you exist."
Grace flinches. "That's not fair."
"It's not fair that you're in love with someone who looks right through you," Isabelle says, and her voice is kind but firm. "That's what's not fair. Not me saying it out loud."
Before Grace can answer, something shifts in the room. A change in the air. The kind of change that happens when someone important moves.
Oliver is walking toward the edge of the ballroom. Toward the quieter part. Toward where she's standing.
Grace's heart stops.
"Okay, he's coming this way," Isabelle whispers. "Should I leave? Do you want me to leave?" She's already moving, already giving Grace space.
"Don't you dare leave me alone," Grace says, but her friend is gone anyway, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of someone who actually knows how to navigate these things.
Oliver keeps walking. He's definitely coming this way. But there's no one around. No one important. Just Grace in her cheap black dress and empty champagne glass.
He stops right in front of her.
For the first time in three years, Oliver Kane looks directly at her. Not through her. Not past her. At her.
His eyes are that exact shade of blue that makes her forget to breathe. Storm blue. That's what she calls it in her head during quiet moments at her desk when she shouldn't be thinking about him at all.
"Hello, Grace."
He's never said her name like this before. Personal. Like he actually sees her.
"Hi," she manages. Her voice sounds very small.
Oliver smiles and it's not the CEO smile. It's something different. Something that makes her forget every reason why looking at him is dangerous.
"Dance with me," he says. It's not a question.
The ballroom is full of people who would die for this invitation. Powerful people. Beautiful people. People who matter in ways Grace never will.
But Oliver Kane is asking her. The invisible assistant. The girl in the cheap dress.
Grace nods because her voice has stopped working.
He takes her hand and everything changes.
As Oliver leads her toward the dance floor, Grace doesn't notice the way Victoria Ashton's face goes sharp and cold watching them. She doesn't see the calculating look in Victoria's eyes. She doesn't understand that in exactly three years, none of this moment will matter.
Because what's about to happen in Oliver Kane's penthouse tonight will destroy her life in ways she can't even imagine yet.
Grace just knows that for once, she's not invisible.
For once, Oliver Kane sees her.
And that might be the most dangerous thing that's ever happened to her.