11- The Invitation That Never Existed

Elena found the black envelope outside her bedroom door at nine seventeen in the morning.

It rested on a silver tray beside her cup of tea, bearing no sender’s name or return address. The only marking was a narrow gold seal.

Inside was an invitation to the Blackwood Charity Gala, scheduled for that evening.

Her name was printed beneath the event’s title.

Elena Hayes.

On the back of the card, someone had handwritten a single sentence.

“Some debts begin long before anyone asks for help.”

Elena studied the words, turning the card between her fingers.

Something about the phrasing brought back the old payment, the missing agreement, and her mother’s name appearing in the records Kaysen had refused to explain.

But what unsettled her most was the fact that someone knew where she lived now.

She took a photograph of the invitation and sent it to Mina.

Elena: Please tell me this isn’t the strangest invitation you’ve ever received.

Mina: Black envelope, mysterious message, no sender? Elena, that’s not a charity gala. That’s the beginning of a crime movie.

Elena almost smiled, but instead of replying, she called the event organizers.

After a brief wait, a woman answered.

“I’m afraid we have no record of an invitation issued in your name, Miss Hayes.”

Elena tightened her fingers around the phone.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. We finalized the guest list yesterday.”

Elena thanked her and ended the call.

The invitation carried the genuine seal of the gala, yet the organizers hadn’t sent it.

She didn’t know who was behind it, but she knew one thing: she wouldn’t let a stranger decide what she should do.

She slipped the card into her handbag and returned to her room to get ready.

If she had to attend that gala, she would.

But this time, she wouldn’t walk into the room knowing nothing.

⸻

At seven that evening, Elena descended the staircase in a dark emerald-green dress.

Kaysen was waiting at the bottom in a black suit, speaking on his phone. He ended the call when he noticed her.

For a moment, he said nothing.

His gaze lingered on her slightly longer than she expected before he reached for the car keys on the nearby table.

“Are you ready?”

She stopped on the last step.

“Ready for what?”

“Blackwood.”

She studied him suspiciously.

“How did you know I was going there?”

“Because I saw the envelope.”

A flicker of irritation crossed her face.

“Do you spend all day watching the cameras outside my bedroom?”

“I monitor the entrances.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

He slipped the keys into his pocket.

“Not everything revolves around you, Elena.”

His response was cold, but his eyes shifted briefly toward her handbag.

Toward the place where she’d hidden the invitation.

She noticed. She said nothing.

Instead, she pulled out the card and held it up.

“I called the organizers. They didn’t send this.”

His expression changed almost imperceptibly.

“When did you call them?”

“This morning.”

“Did you inform security?”

“I didn’t realize I needed to report my phone calls now, too.”

He extended his hand toward the invitation.

“Give it to me.”

She kept it firmly between her fingers.

“Why?”

“Because someone went to the trouble of sending a forged invitation to a private address. I want to know why.”

“So do I.”

“Then let me handle it.”

His words irritated her immediately.

“No.”

He hadn’t expected such an immediate refusal. The sudden stillness that came over him gave him away.

She lifted her chin.

“You can investigate it, but you don’t get to decide that I don’t deserve to know what’s happening around me.”

He watched her for several seconds.

Then he gestured toward the card.

“Did the organizers tell you anything else?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

This time, he made no attempt to take it from her.

But when she moved toward the door, he reached it first and opened it, stepping aside to let her pass.

It would have been an ordinary gesture if he hadn’t said, while watching her, “You’ll stay beside me tonight.”

She stopped.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I can attend a gala by myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“But you’re acting as though I can’t make a decision without you.”

His eyes held hers.

“I’m not stopping you from going.”

“You’re telling me how to behave as soon as I arrive.”

He paused before answering.

“Do what you want, but don’t disappear without letting me know where you’ve gone.”

She stared at him.

His voice wasn’t angry, and he didn’t seem to be deliberately provoking her. He spoke as though the matter were obvious, as though he had every right to an opinion about the distance between them.

“You’re an extraordinary man, Mr. Vance.”

“I’ve been told.”

She walked out ahead of him, determined not to give him another opportunity to issue an order.

Yet when they reached the car, she noticed that he’d opened the passenger door before she could get to it.

She couldn’t understand why that small gesture irritated her more than their entire argument.

⸻

Blackwood Manor glittered beneath enormous chandeliers. Music drifted through its grand rooms, mingling with the hum of conversation.

Kaysen and Elena entered together.

He didn’t take her hand or put an arm around her shoulders, but he stayed close enough that she felt his presence whenever she moved.

At first, she assumed he was following his own security instructions.

Then she noticed something else.

Whenever she stopped to speak with someone, Kaysen kept track of the conversation from a distance, even when he appeared occupied with another guest. If she moved toward the opposite side of the room, his attention shifted before she had taken more than a few steps.

He wasn’t openly following her.

He simply kept appearing wherever she was headed, as though he’d anticipated her destination.

By the third time, she couldn’t resist commenting.

“Have you memorized the floor plan so you know where I’m going before I move?”

He was holding a glass of water and extended it toward her.

“You’re the one who walks in a straight line toward anyone who makes you curious.”

She glanced at the glass.

“I didn’t ask for water.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you giving it to me?”

His gaze flicked toward the glass in her hand before returning to her face.

“Because you haven’t had anything to drink since we arrived.”

She hesitated.

He was right, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of admitting it easily.

She accepted the glass.

“There’s no need to turn everything into a problem,” he added, as though he’d said nothing worth noticing.

“And there’s no need to monitor everything I do.”

He didn’t answer.

Instead, his gaze suddenly shifted toward the other side of the room.

A man wearing a silver tie stood near one of the pillars, watching them.

The moment his eyes met Kaysen’s, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Elena followed him with her gaze.

“Do you know him?”

“No.”

“But you noticed him.”

“So did you.”

Kaysen placed his empty glass on a passing server’s tray.

“Stay here a moment.”

He didn’t wait for her agreement before moving toward an older man who was approaching them.

Elena immediately felt like doing the opposite of what she’d been told. She headed toward a group of guests on the other side of the room, and she had barely reached them when someone called her name.

“Miss Hayes?”

She turned to see a man in his thirties wearing an elegant navy suit.

“Adrian Cole. We met at the Fairmont Hotel opening last year.”

Elena smiled as she remembered him.

“Of course. How have you been?”

“Very well. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I.”

Adrian laughed and began asking about her work. The conversation was light and comfortable, and for once, Elena didn’t feel the need to scrutinize every word she said.

A few minutes later, he suggested they collaborate on a new project and promised to send the details to her office.

She was listening when Kaysen appeared beside her.

She hadn’t heard his footsteps.

But she sensed him before she turned, feeling his hand settle briefly against her lower back as he moved behind her.

The touch was light, little more than a signal for her to make room.

Even so, Elena stopped speaking in the middle of her sentence.

Adrian looked at Kaysen.

“We were discussing a project Elena might find interesting.”

“I heard.”

There was no obvious harshness in Kaysen’s voice, but neither did he seem particularly interested in being pleasant.

Adrian continued with a smile.

“Perhaps we could have lunch next week and discuss the details.”

Elena opened her mouth to answer.

“Send the details to her professional email,” Kaysen said.

Adrian turned toward him.

“I was asking her.”

Kaysen removed his hand from Elena’s back.

Then he looked at her, as though he’d suddenly remembered she was standing between them.

“Answer him yourself.”

His voice remained calm, but something about the exchange made Elena stare at him in surprise.

A moment earlier, he’d been speaking on her behalf.

Now he seemed deliberately to be handing the decision back to her, waiting to see what she would do.

She lifted her chin.

“I’d be happy to have lunch with you, Adrian. Send me the details.”

Adrian smiled, exchanged a few more words with her, and left.

Elena remained where she was for a moment before turning to Kaysen.

“What made you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Answer for me.”

He regarded her briefly.

“I shouldn’t have.”

She hadn’t expected him to admit it, and she fell silent.

Then he added, looking elsewhere, “But I didn’t know whether he genuinely wanted to discuss business.”

Her surprise returned.

“And that’s your concern?”

He looked at her again.

“No.”

The answer came too quickly.

He stepped away slightly, as though the conversation were over.

But Elena noticed his fingers tighten around his glass before he set it down on a nearby table.

He didn’t appear to be angry with her.

He had no obvious reason to interfere.

Yet he’d done so.

Then he’d admitted he had no right to, as though the admission alone should be enough to close the subject.

⸻

A little later, Elena wandered toward the corridor leading to the library, searching for somewhere quieter.

She had stopped beside a tall window when she heard footsteps behind her.

“Didn’t I tell you not to wander off?”

She turned sharply.

“You told me not to disappear without letting you know where I’d gone. I never agreed.”

Kaysen stood a few steps away.

“Where were you?”

She gestured toward the window.

“Here. As you can see.”

His gaze moved over her, then toward the empty corridor behind her.

“Did anyone approach you?”

Her expression changed.

“What?”

“Did anyone speak to you in this corridor?”

“No. Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

His eyes shifted toward the library door before returning to her face.

“Nothing.”

Her irritation flared.

“You come here, interrogate me, and then say it’s nothing?”

“Lower your voice.”

“Don’t tell me how to speak, too.”

He took a step toward her, then stopped when he saw her expression.

For a moment, he looked as though he was about to say something.

Instead, he stepped back.

“Fine.”

The word was simple, but Elena noticed that he’d made himself retreat rather than continue the argument.

His gaze dropped to her hand, where her fingers were worrying the edge of her handbag.

“Are you nervous?”

She hid her hand behind her back.

“I’m angry with you.”

“That’s obvious.”

“Then stop asking questions when you already know the answers.”

He seemed about to respond, but settled for a brief nod.

Then he removed his jacket and draped it over his arm, as though preparing to leave.

It wasn’t exactly kindness, and it wasn’t an apology.

But he didn’t try to force her to return with him.

“I’ll be in the ballroom,” he said.

Then he walked away.

Elena watched until he disappeared at the end of the corridor.

She didn’t understand what had just happened.

A moment ago, he’d behaved as though he had the right to know where she was and whom she’d spoken to. Then, when she’d challenged him, he’d suddenly backed down without explaining anything.

There was something behind his behavior.

Something she couldn’t name.

And she wasn’t sure whether he was hiding it from her or trying to hide it from himself.

⸻

She found him near the library entrance a few minutes later, speaking to a security guard.

He wasn’t looking at her, but he ended the conversation as soon as she approached.

“Can we leave?”

He turned toward her.

“Did something happen?”

“No. I’ve had enough of the gala.”

He studied her face for a moment, then nodded.

“Fine.”

He didn’t ask why or tell her to wait.

But as they crossed the ballroom, a server carrying a tray of glasses passed too close to them. Kaysen reached for Elena’s waist and moved her out of the way.

The movement was quick and instinctive.

His fingers settled against her side, drawing her half a step toward him.

Her shoulder brushed his arm.

For a moment, her breath caught.

“Careful,” Kaysen said to the server before lowering his hand.

He didn’t look at Elena or comment on what had happened.

But she could still feel the impression of his fingers long after he’d moved away.

When they reached the car, she opened the door herself before he could get to it.

He didn’t stop her.

He waited until she was seated, then closed the door quietly.

Somehow, that unsettled her more than another argument would have.

⸻

On the drive back, Kaysen remained silent.

He didn’t try to discuss the gala or mention Adrian or the man who had been watching them.

Elena kept her eyes on the road, replaying the moment his hand had closed around her waist and the way he’d drawn her toward him before immediately letting go.

The touch hadn’t lasted long.

There was no reason to make more of it than it was.

Yet she couldn’t ignore the fact that Kaysen had moved before he seemed to think, as though the man’s proximity to her were something that couldn’t wait.

She turned toward him.

“Do you always do that?”

He glanced at her.

“Do what?”

“Act before you think.”

His eyes returned to the road.

“Depends on the situation.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only answer I have right now.”

She didn’t like his response, but she couldn’t think of anything to say.

A few moments later, he stopped the car outside the estate.

He got out first and opened her door, offering her his hand. She stepped out without taking it.

He didn’t seem offended.

Instead, he moved aside to give her room, then walked beside her toward the entrance.

At the door, he stopped before they went inside.

“Elena.”

She turned.

“What?”

He watched her for a second, as though weighing whether to say something or keep it to himself.

Then he spoke.

“Next time you receive something like that, tell me.”

She folded her arms.

“Is that another order?”

“No.”

His answer was quiet.

“It’s a request.”

She stared at him, uncertain she’d heard the word correctly.

He didn’t repeat it or try to force her to agree.

He simply opened the door and waited for her response.

“I’ll think about it,” she said at last.

He nodded as though that was enough.

Then he went inside.

Elena remained at the entrance for a moment, watching his back as he walked away.

He hadn’t apologized for everything he’d done, nor had he abandoned his habit of interfering. But at certain moments, he’d stepped back and left her room to decide for herself, as though he were trying to keep something under control.

Something she didn’t understand.

She climbed the stairs slowly. When she reached her bedroom, she took the invitation from her handbag and placed it on the desk.

She still didn’t know who had sent it.

But she was no longer thinking about the invitation alone.

She was thinking about Kaysen.

The way he’d tracked her movements, the hand he’d placed on her waist without hesitation, and the change in his expression when Adrian had spoken to her.

One thing, however, had become clear.

Kaysen Vance didn’t behave with her the way he behaved with other people.

And for some reason, he wasn’t prepared to explain why.

Downstairs, Kaysen remained in the entrance hall long after she’d gone up to her room.

He stood by the window for a moment before taking out his phone and looking at a message he’d received before they left the gala.

He read it again, then locked the screen without replying.

It wasn’t the right time.

And Elena still didn’t know what she ought to be afraid of.

As for the way he’d begun behaving around her, he knew she wouldn’t remain unaware of it for much longer.

Even so, he couldn’t promise himself he’d stop.