Chapter 6

Two hours later, clothes were flying across Selina’s bedroom.

“I’m telling you, you should have taken the billionaire’s dress,” Tina said, holding up a modest navy cocktail dress and tossing it onto the mounting pile on the mattress. “Because nothing in this closet screams ‘high-stakes corporate royalty.’ You’re going to a shark tank, Sel.”

“I don't want his charity,” Selina muttered, rummaging through her purse for her wallet. “I got paid on Friday. We’re going to the boutique on Fifth, and I’m buying something of my own.”

Tina leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms with a knowing grin. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Remind that gorgeous, emotionally stunted boss of yours that you aren't some pet he can summon and dismiss whenever he gets overwhelmed by his feelings.”

“Exactly!” Selina threw her hands up. “Who does he think he is? Touching me like that, looking at me like he’s starving, and then pulling the noble ‘I can’t do this to you’ card?”

Tina’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait. He actually said that? So you admit there was something happening between you two?”

Selina groaned and collapsed backward onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Please don't patronize me, Tina. I feel like an idiot. I’m lying here whining because my impossibly wealthy boss is trying to maintain workplace boundaries, while I’m losing my mind over a hand on my neck.”

“Hey,” Tina said softly, walking over and sitting down beside her. She patted Selina’s knee with genuine affection. “Stop beating yourself up. The man practically set you on fire with his eyes in our living room, ignored you for a month, and then cornered you in his office. You’re human. And honestly? If he fumbles a literal goddess like you, it’s his funeral.”

Selina cracked a faint smile. “You're biased.”

“Damn right I am,” Tina laughed, helping her sit up. “Listen to me: if I were a man, I would have put a ring on your finger the second I met you, and you’d currently be pregnant with our fourth child. The man is clearly defective. Now get up, grab your credit card, and let’s go find a dress that will make him choke on his champagne.”

Selina burst out laughing, the lingering humiliation finally evaporating. “Four kids? You're ridiculous.”

“Five if you play your cards right. Come on, we have work to do.”

---

The grand ballroom of the St. Regis was an expanse of polished white marble, soaring crystal chandeliers, and cascading floral arrangements. New York’s financial elite drifted through the gilded space in small, murmuring clusters, accompanied by the gentle clinking of crystal flutes and the subdued melody of a string quartet.

Jason stood near the grand archway, adjusting his cufflinks for the fifth time in ten minutes. His dark eyes continuously swept the entrance.

“Did Miss Woods give you an estimated arrival time?” Jason asked, his impatience bleeding through. “Her phone went straight to voicemail when I tried calling thirty minutes ago.”

Beside him, Mark casually swallowed the rest of his vintage champagne, glancing around the room with mild amusement.

Jason glared at his aide. “Are you enjoying yourself? You’re on the clock, Mark.”

“A little morale booster never hurt anyone, young master,” Mark replied with a faint smirk. “And if you're looking for Miss Woods, you can stop pacing. She’s been here for twenty minutes.”

Jason stiffened. “What? Where?”

“Over by the terrace alcove,” Mark said, nodding toward the far corner of the ballroom. “She’s currently finalizing the terms of the maritime venture with the Peterson delegates—deals you neglected during your month of brooding.”

“She went straight to the delegates without reporting to me?”

“She did,” Mark said, his voice dropping slightly as his gaze shifted toward the center aisle. “And if I may speak freely, sir... Her Highness looks breathtaking tonight. An absolute carbon copy of her late mother.”

Jason turned his head.

The air vanished from his lungs.

Selina was walking toward them across the marble floor. She wore a sleeveless, floor-length gown of midnight black that seemed to absorb and reflect the chandelier light with every step. The fabric hugged her waist before cascading into a subtle, liquid train, offset by a long, gossamer silk scarf draped around the column of her neck that trailed down her exposed back. Her dark hair was down, styled in rich, voluminous waves that framed the high, aristocratic sweep of her cheekbones.

She looked radiant. Regal. Untouchable.

She wasn't just Selina Woods, the quiet corporate assistant. She was Selina Aurelius, carrying the unmistakable grace of a royal lineage she didn't even know she possessed.

“Good evening, Mr. Williams,” Selina said, arriving before them with an effortless, professional smile. “I apologize for the delay. The Peterson partners had several revisions regarding the maritime clauses, but the preliminary contracts are signed.”

Jason stared at her, his throat completely dry. It took him several seconds to find his voice, and when he did, a sharp edge of possessiveness coated the words.

“You met with my partners alone? I didn't authorize you to handle executive negotiations without my presence.”

Selina’s smile remained fixed, though her eyes cooled. “Mr. Mark requested my assistance to ensure the deal didn't collapse in your absence. I assumed saving the company millions took precedence over protocol.” She paused, her gaze sweeping over his sharp three-piece suit before returning to his eyes. “Boss and employee, remember, sir? I am simply performing my duties.”

Mark quietly cleared his throat, taking half a step backward. “Right... I believe this is my cue to procure another beverage.”

“Stay where you are,” both Jason and Selina snapped in unison.

Ignoring them both, Selina pivoted cleanly on her heel and began walking toward the open terrace doors.

Jason caught up to her in three long strides, stopping just behind her in the cooler evening breeze of the terrace balcony. “What do you want from me, Selina?”

She turned, looking up at him beneath the terrace lights. “I want you to stop playing games. Let's be adults, Mr. Williams. Let's do our jobs.”

Before Jason could reply, the sharp vibration of Selina’s mobile phone broke the silence. She glanced at the screen, and her expression instantly shifted into a bright, genuine smile.

“Excuse me,” she said, pressing the phone to her ear. “Hello? Yes, I'm right inside...”

She brushed past him, disappearing back into the warm glow of the crowded ballroom.

Jason stood on the terrace for a moment, his chest burning with frustration, before following her inside.

He tracked her easily through the crowd. She was standing near a marble pillar, conversing with a tall, slender woman dressed in emerald silk. The woman had her back partially turned to the room, her dark hair pinned up with a glittering silver comb. Selina was laughing at something the stranger had said, completely at ease.

Jason took two steps forward, his brow furrowing as he studied the woman's posture. A sickening sense of deja vu gripped his spine.

Behind him, heavy footsteps approached rapidly.

“Sir!” Mark whispered urgently, appearing at his shoulder, his face pale and completely stripped of humor. “Security just flagged a breach. Celeste is in the building. We need to secure Her Highness immediately...”

“I've already found her,” Jason said, the words falling like lead weights.

Across the ballroom, as if hearing her name, the woman in emerald slowly turned.

Celeste.

Her cold, striking features were fixed in a razor-sharp smile. She looked directly across the sea of tuxedos and gowns, locking eyes with Jason.

Without breaking eye contact, Celeste lifted her crystal goblet of deep red wine.

She raised it once.

Then a second time.

Jason’s heart plummeted into an abyss. It was the Aurelius imperial toast, the ancient, ceremonial salute marking an impending execution.

Celeste’s red lips parted, mouthing five distinct words:

'Save her if you can.'

The champagne flute in Jason’s hand slipped, shattering against the marble floor.

“Selina!” he roared, breaking into an all-out sprint.

Guests gasped and stumbled back as Jason shoved through the dense crowd, knocking drinks and bodies aside in a blind panic.

Across the room, Celeste took three graceful steps backward into the shadows of the service corridor.

'CRACK.'

The sound of a suppressed gunshot cut through the ambient music like awhip.

Jason flinched, his momentum faltering for a fraction of a second as the acoustic shockwave hit his ears, but he surged forward immediately.

He was too late.

Selina’s eyes widened in sudden, profound shock. The breath left her body in a soft gasp as her hands clutched at her abdomen. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the polished white marble.

Screams tore through the ballroom. Chaos erupted instantly as hundreds of panicked guests surged toward the exits, overturning tables and trampling floral displays.

Through the blur of fleeing bodies, Jason caught a final glimpse of Celeste. She paused at the edge of the service exit, raised two fingers to her lips, and blew him a mocking kiss before vanishing into the darkness.

Jason dropped violently to his knees beside Selina’s fallen form.

“Selina! Selina, look at me!”

He gathered her shoulders into his arms, lifting her against his chest. His trembling hands pressed against her side, but hot, dark crimson was already soaking through the fabric of her black gown, spilling over his fingers and pooling across the white stone beneath them.

Her eyelashes fluttered weakly, her gaze losing focus.

“No, no, no...stay with me!” Jason screamed, his voice breaking as the world dissolved into blood, ash, and the ringing horror of ten years ago. 

“SELINA