Chapter 3

Sidney's Pov

By evening, luxury cars lined the circular driveway outside while security guards in black suits moved around the estate. The sound of classical music floated through the mansion as wealthy guests arrived. I stood in front of my bedroom mirror silently while one of the hired stylists adjusted my dress. The silver gown hugged my figure elegantly, falling to the floor in soft waves, but all I saw when I looked at myself was exhaustion.

 Mom sat quietly behind me on the couch. She wore a long, dark green dress that covered the fading bruises near her collarbone. Her makeup was flawless, her hair perfectly styled. “You look beautiful, baby,” she whispered.

I forced a small smile, “So do you mom.”

The stylist stepped back, finally. “Mr. Vale asked that Miss Sidney come downstairs immediately.” I put on my party mask and grabbed my clutch without another word and headed downstairs.

The moment I entered the ballroom area, conversations softened. “Gregory Vale’s daughter”, I heard whispers, and I hated the attention.

 Men in expensive tuxedos glanced at me with interest while women whispered and gestured.

“Smile,” my father murmured, coming up beside me suddenly. “People are watching.”

I stiffened, straightening my back.

He appeared calm and polished in a black tuxedo, his arm slipping around my shoulders possessively as cameras flashed near the staircase.

One of his business partners approached us with a wide smile. “Gregory!” the man laughed. “You never told me your daughter was this stunning.”

 “Sidney,” my father said smoothly, “this is Senator Lance.”

The older man kissed my hand, and I could have sworn I felt his tongue. “A pleasure, beautiful damsel.”

I withdrew my hand with disgust, an act which displeased my father. As the night dragged on, I found myself standing near the balcony doors just trying to breathe, and that was when I heard them.

“…Damian Blackwood is getting bolder.”

I turned slightly at the mention of the name to see three men standing near the whiskey table speaking quietly, including my father.

Damian... I’d heard the name my entire life.

The Blackwoods were one of the only families powerful enough to challenge the Vales openly. Newspapers and social media constantly compared both companies like they were rival kingdoms preparing for war. Vale Group versus Blackwood Corporation, two billion-dollar empires constantly trying to destroy each other.

“His company recovered faster than expected,” another man muttered.

Gregory’s expression darkened slightly. “He inherited his father’s stubbornness.”

“Still,” the senator added carefully, “Damian Blackwood and the Blackwood Cooperation have become extremely influential these last few years.”

I watched my father swirl whiskey in his glass slowly. “There’s a difference between influence and power,” he said coldly. “Damian has influence.”

“And you have power?” the senator joked nervously.

The conversation shifted quickly afterward, but the name lingered in my thoughts.

Damian Blackwood.

I didn’t know much about him personally, but I had heard rumors that he was a cold, brilliant, and dangerous businessman, and according to the media, he hated Gregory Vale almost as much as Gregory Vale hated him.

Suddenly, my father glanced toward me. Our eyes met briefly, then he walked over calmly.

“You’re standing alone.”

“I needed air, I couldn’t breathe.”

“You should socialize more, Sidney.”

“Yes, Father,” I replied, trying to end the conversation he was trying to start.

 “There’s someone I want you to meet tonight.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “How old are you now, Sidney?”

 “I’m twenty-four, why do you ask, Father?” I replied.

“Don’t you think it’s time you put yourself to use for the good of your family?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You saw how Senator Lance was smitten by you, right?”

My chest tightened as I sensed where the conversation was heading to, “He’s older than you are, father’’.

“Age is just a number, Sidney. I need him to be all in with me during this campaign. If you agree to be his wife, he’d do anything to put me in that chair.”

“Father, stop this. Why are you choosing to punish me?”

Before he could answer, a woman suddenly approached us nervously.

“Mr. Vale, the press wants another interview before dinner.” He nodded once before turning back toward me. “Stay nearby, and he walked off.

I turned and ran to the upstairs terrace. I felt my eyes welling up with tears as I plopped down on the hard floor. My life was ruined. Father hardly spoke about anything he wasn’t going to do, so I was sure he wasn’t joking. I thought of running away, but I didn’t know anyone. In my 14 years of being trapped in this mansion, I hadn’t made any friends or connections because my father didn’t allow any. I couldn’t remember Mom having any visits from anyone, either, other than doctors and welfare foundations seeking support.

I was lost in thought when a voice came, startling me, “Hey, are you ok?”

I nearly jumped before I turned sharply to find a tall man with broad shoulders in a dark suit leaning casually against the wall nearby. He was wearing his assigned party mask, so I couldn’t make out his face. He looked around his mid-thirties, maybe, with sharp features and dark, intense eyes that studied me calmly beneath the dimly lit terrace.

 “I’m fine,” I replied cautiously.

“You’re Gregory Vale’s daughter?” he said after a moment.

I frowned slightly, “And you’re spying on guests at parties.”

Most people around my father acted terrified constantly, but this man looked completely relaxed.

“Do you always hide during parties?” he asked.

I raised my hands to adjust my mask. “Who are you, a friend of the host?” I asked calmly.

“No,” he scoffed, laughing quietly, “I am not Gregory’s friend.”

“Oh, so a reporter then…I’m not your audience, trust me, I have nothing to tell you, and I suggest you leave before anyone finds you snooping around.”

He didn’t answer, and silence settled briefly between us. I tried to make out his features beneath the mask, but I couldn’t; his eyes were shielded by the partial darkness, but I was sure he was staring into mine.

“You haven’t told me your name, though,” I asked boldly

Then suddenly, the balcony doors opened behind us.

“Sidney!”

I turned instantly to see my father standing there, his eyes locked directly onto the man beside me. The stranger straightened slowly, completely calm.

“Why are you here, Sidney? Who is this man?”