125
Monte Carlo shimmered beneath a velvet sky, its lights casting golden reflections on the calm Mediterranean waters. The Hotel they were lodged in stood tall and elegant, a palace of glass chandeliers, marble columns, and history whispered behind closed doors.
It was the kind of place where deals worth millions were made over champagne, and where power smelled like polished mahogany and bespoke cologne.
Ioannis adjusted his cufflinks as they stepped out of the sleek black car. He looked devastating in a black tuxedo, his dark hair slicked back, his presence cool and effortless, magnetic in that understated way that made people watch him without knowing why. He turned toward Yalda, offering his arm with a smile only she ever saw.
"You’re sure about this?" he asked.
She took his arm, her gown rustling softly. "I said I’d come."
She looked stunning in black velvet, the plunging neckline both elegant and provocative. Her hair was swept into a low bun, and diamonds glittered at her throat. The entire look was carefully constructed, armor made of silk and shadow to shield the nervous pulse inside her.
How did she feel stepping back into all of this? Anxious, expectedly.
They entered the grand ballroom together.
It was opulence personified. Golden walls, tall mirrors, and a live quartet played something slow and classical beneath a ceiling mural of dancing people.
Waiters moved like shadows, balancing trays of crystal flutes. The air buzzed with polite conversation in multiple languages, French, Italian, Greek, and English blending like perfume.
Yalda had been to events like this before, on Alexander’s arm. But this time, she didn’t feel like an accessory. She was with Ioannis, not just as a plus-one, but as a woman someone like him chose proudly. His hand didn’t leave the small of her back. He introduced her by name. He spoke to her, not over her.
Still, there was that tremor in her chest, the one she tried to ignore as they moved through the crowd.
"This is the new banking minister from Zurich," Ioannis murmured in her ear before shaking hands with a tall blond man. "And that over there is the Marcelli group. They own half the vineyards in northern Italy."
Yalda smiled where appropriate, nodded when required. She was poised and gracious, slipping into the role like a second skin.
They found their table, a small one near the front, close to the podium, and Ioannis pulled out her chair like a gentleman born.
"How are we doing?" He asked her.
She smiled.
"Good." She replied.
"Are we having a good time?"
Her gaze met his and smiled almost naughtily.
"Not at the moment."
He chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'll make it up to you when we're back in the suite." He promised.
And she couldn't wait.
Now that they were seated, she let her gaze scan around the hall to take in the beauty once more, there were some familiar faces; people she'd seen in other events. And then.... She froze.
Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach heavily, her breath hitched. It was like seeing a ghost.
Alexander.
He was standing just a few meters away, half-turned in conversation with a French diplomat. The sound in the room faded, dimmed beneath the blood pounding in her ears. His profile was unmistakable, cut from marble, carved with cold precision and a beauty that had once destroyed her.
He hadn’t changed.
The navy suit he wore fit him like armor, every line tailored to perfection. His dark hair was slicked back the same way, but it was his presence, still so impossibly composed, still magnetic in a way that demanded attention without asking for it, that made her heart stutter.
He turned.
Their eyes met.
And the world collapsed inward.
His expression didn’t change, not immediately. But something flickered behind his gaze; recognition, surprise, something else she couldn’t name.
Yalda felt the weight of her body all at once. The velvet of her dress against her skin, the sparkle of diamonds at her throat. She couldn’ breathe.
He looked right at her. Held her gaze.
And then his eyes shifted slowly, deliberately, to Ioannis, seated beside her.
Yalda tore her gaze away, her heart beating wildly. She felt dizzy. She needed water, air, anything.
Ioannis leaned in. “Are you alright?”
She forced a smile. “Yes. Just warm.”
“You’re pale.”
She sipped her champagne, hoping the bubbles would dull the chaos roaring through her. “It’s nothing. Maybe jet lag.”
Ioannis didn’t press. He took her hand beneath the table and squeezed gently, and she wanted to crawl into that warmth, that safety. But her body still hummed with an energy she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Alexander. Here. Of all places.
She could still feel the way his fingers once trailed down her spine. She could still remember how he looked at her, how he'd whispered her name in the dark, how he'd choke her, how he'd kiss her. The pain he’d left behind hadn’t dulled, it had simply buried itself under routine and silence.
And now, one glance, and everything came rushing back.
She knew she was staring too hard at her plate. She knew she needed to keep her composure. Ioannis had brought her here because he trusted her. Because she belonged by his side. She wouldn’t fall apart now.
She swallowed. Lifted her chin. Smiled as though nothing had happened.
But inside, her heart was beating like a drum, and the fact that Alexander had gone back to his conversation had her heart clenching and tears prickling the back of her eyes.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
