Chapter 5 - The Gala Showdown
The Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a sea of crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and Chicago high society dressed in floor-length gowns and bespoke tuxedos. I stood near the marble entryway, tugging uncomfortably at my black bow tie, scanning the crowd for the one woman who had consumed every waking thought for the past five days.
Then the double doors parted, and the breath vanished entirely from my lungs.
Camila was wearing a midnight-blue velvet gown with an off-the-shoulder neckline that accentuated her elegant collarbones and sculpted waist. A slit ran up the left side of the gown, revealing just enough leg to be dangerous. A diamond choker rested against her pale skin, but it was the fierce, nervous intensity in her gaze that truly paralyzed me.
Every man in the foyer stopped talking. Heads turned. Whispers rippled through the room.
She saw me standing by the archway and walked directly toward me, ignoring the prominent civic leaders attempting to catch her eye. As she reached me, her eyes took in my fitted tuxedo, the silk lapels, and the clean shave. A subtle shiver ran through her frame.
""You cleaned up nicely, Mr. Scott,"" she murmured, a teasing lilt hiding her tension.
""I had to make sure people knew I wasn't just your plus-one, Ms. Rhodes. I'm your primary asset."" I offered her my arm. ""Shall we?""
Camila linked her arm through mine. The warmth of her bare skin against my sleeve sent electricity shooting straight to my core. She leaned in slightly, whispering, ""Try to behave tonight. Several conservative board members are watching.""
""Behaving has never been my strong suit. Especially around you.""
Dinner was a whirlwind of polite networking, toasts to charitable donations, and corporate politics. But throughout the entire three-course meal, Camila stayed close to me. Her knee occasionally brushed against mine under the linen tablecloth. Every time it did, neither of us pulled away. The silent, suffocating charge between us was building with every passing minute.
Just as the live band began playing a slow, melancholic jazz piece, a sudden stir rippled near the ballroom entrance.
I looked up. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached.
Daniel Mercer stood in the doorway, dressed in a sharp Tom Ford tuxedo, shaking hands with the host. He was supposed to be in London.
Camila noticed my sudden stillness and followed my gaze. Her fingers tightened reflexively around my wrist. ""Daniel? What is he doing here?""
""Looks like your billionaire friend couldn't bear to be across the ocean while another man escorted his favorite CEO,"" I said, the venom in my voice impossible to mask.
Daniel spotted us immediately and cut through the crowd with purpose, his face arranged in a mask of confident arrogance.
""Camila, darling,"" Daniel said smoothly, ignoring me completely as he reached for her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. ""The London negotiations closed early. I caught the supersonic private charter just so I wouldn't leave you stranded at my own family's gala.""
Camila pulled her hand back gracefully. ""That was unnecessary, Daniel. Northline is well-represented tonight. Wesley was kind enough to step in.""
Daniel finally turned his cold blue eyes toward me, looking at me like dirt on his expensive Italian shoes. ""Ah, Scott. The graphic designer. Cute of you to play bodyguard for the evening. But I'm here now. You can head back to the bar. I'll take care of Camila for the rest of the night.""
He reached out to take Camila’s arm, intending to lead her onto the dance floor.
Something inside me snapped. The bet, the company policy, my career, my pride—all of it burned to ash in a single, blazing second of pure instinct.
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Before Daniel’s fingers could graze her silk dress, I stepped between them, towering over Mercer, my eyes locked on his with lethal certainty.
""She already has a partner, Daniel,"" I said, my voice dangerously calm, carrying just enough weight to cause the nearby table of donors to fall silent. ""And if you touch her again without her permission, you're going to find out just how fast this graphic designer can take you apart.""
