Chapter 1 – A glass of wine.
Isabel had never been the kind of person to wear a shimmering gown and high heels. Her usual attire consisted of sneakers or flats paired with a suit or a simple button-down, followed by a six-hour shift behind a desk before finally indulging in a much-needed coffee break. But today was different.
Today, she was on assignment, and as a new journalist, this meant everything to her—finally, a real story, a step toward building her career.
A tiny buzz of excitement prickled beneath her calm exterior, but she kept it well hidden beneath a layer of practiced composure.
After all, it wasn’t exactly a heart-racing story: covering a charity gala. Nothing interesting ever happened at these events.
All she had witnessed at similar gatherings were brooding rich men with their big bellies and low-toned conversations, shaking hands and making underhanded deals that had little to do with the charities they professed to support.
Not that she was one to judge openly. Isabel didn’t like people who wore their judgments too easily, and she certainly wasn’t one to broadcast her opinions. Her job was simply to cover the event, to observe and document without letting her personal feelings cloud her report.
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled, letting go of any lingering doubts, and stepped out of the taxi.
The night air was cool against her skin as she stood in front of the Empire Royale Hotel, its historic grandeur looming tall, each window softly glowing like a modern palace.
Isabel had only admired this place from a distance until now. Here she was, dressed in a gold shimmery gown, wondering if she looked more like a guest or a lost girl in her mother’s dress.
Her phone buzzed in her purse, snapping her out of her thoughts. Glancing down, she narrowed her eyes at the caller ID. It was Vivi, and the corners of her mouth lifted as she answered.
“Hey, what’s up?” Isabel greeted, trying to keep her voice casual.
“Hey, girl! How’s the dinner outfit?” Vivi’s voice was bubbly and full of energy.
“Uncomfortable, thank you very much.” Isabel chuckled, glancing down at the dress, feeling slightly out of place.
“Oh, please! I make you look stunning, and this is how you repay me?” Vivi scoffed dramatically, as only she could.
“Thanks for making me stunning,” Isabel replied, rolling her eyes, even though Vivi couldn’t see. “But you do realize we have very different ideas about what ‘pretty’ should look like, right?”
“Yes, because you’re stuck in soccer-mom fashion while I’m in tune with the trends,” she teased.
Isabel could hear the sound of crunching through the line, knowing Vivi was munching on something.
“Are you eating while talking to me?” Isabel asked, laughing.
“Is that important?” Vivi shot back, sounding unbothered. “But yes, if you’re wondering, I ordered pizza. Dave and I are just going to crash for the night.”
Isabel scoffed playfully. “One night, I’m not around, and you have Dave over?”
“Last I checked, he’s my boyfriend, not yours,” Vivi teased, a playful giggle escaping her.
“Well, tell your boyfriend there better not be any crumbs on the couch when I get back, or you’re both done for.”
Vivi laughed, clearly amused. “Love you too! Go kill it at that dinner.”
“It’s not really that kind of event,” Isabel replied, though she knew Vivi couldn’t see the slight frown on her face as she stepped inside the gala.
The cool, sophisticated air of the place hit her instantly, a slight chill dancing down her spine. She looked around, immediately impressed and slightly overwhelmed. Whoever owned this hotel had a taste for luxury that was nothing short of extravagant.
The entire venue was washed in golden lighting, and crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a soft glow on the guests below, who drifted through the room with glasses of wine and perfectly rehearsed smiles.
Isabel took a deep breath, absorbing the polished floors, the elegantly dressed people, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of refined conversations.
What kind of charity event was this, anyway? She had attended a few before, so she had some idea of what to expect—something with warmth and generosity in the air, maybe a few heartfelt speeches.
But this? This felt more like a high-end celebration for the wealthy than a fundraiser for the less fortunate.
She adjusted her purse strap and walked further into the hall after showing her ID to the doorman—a massive man who, despite his imposing frame, gave a gentle nod as she passed. He looked like he could have been a retired bodyguard, someone with stories that would make the tabloids, but here he was, just another silent guardian in the shadows.
A passing waiter offered her a glass of wine, and she took it with a polite nod, not particularly interested but wanting to blend in.
She drifted toward one of the grand pillars, her back resting against the cool marble as she surveyed the room. Part of her hoped she’d fade into the background—this wasn’t her crowd, and she had no intention of mingling with the wrong type of people.
Yet, as the minutes ticked by, boredom started to settle in. So far, the most thrilling thing she’d done was observe people’s outfits, noting who wore the designer and who tried too hard. And let’s be honest, that wasn’t going to make for a very compelling article.
“Maybe I should move around more,” she thought aloud, though she didn’t make a move just yet.
The thought lingered at the edge of her mind as she swirled the wine in her glass, watching it lazily swirl around the rim. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to drink it.
“Are you planning to have that?” a voice asked, startling her out of her thoughts.
Isabel turned to find a light-skinned man with a head full of thick, neatly styled brown hair and an easy smile that radiated confidence.
“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he said, offering a slight bow, his gaze steady and warm.
Isabel raised an eyebrow, half amused. “And what makes you think I’d be scared of you?”
He simply smiled as though he found her question amusing and stepped beside her without another word. A waiter approached, and he took a glass of wine, nodding in thanks before taking a sip.
“It seems you’re new here,” he observed, his voice smooth and calm, as if he’d sized her up within moments.
“And what makes you think so?” she asked, her curiosity piqued as she tried to maintain her composure.
“Well, for starters, you don’t know me,” he replied. There was a hint of pride in his voice, something that left a bit of a sour taste, as though he expected her to be honored to meet him.
“Should I know you?” she asked, genuinely curious and slightly offended.
He leaned in slightly as if about to answer in confidence when the speakers suddenly crackled to life, and the room fell silent. A gentle yet commanding voice echoed through the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats as we begin.”
The man beside her straightened, giving his blue tuxedo jacket a quick tug as he drained his glass in one fluid motion. “I’ll see you soon, Isabel,” he said, flashing a quick wave before slipping into the crowd.
For a moment, Isabel stood frozen, watching him blend effortlessly into the sea of high-profile guests.
Her mind spun. How did he know her name, and who was this man?
