Chapter 5: Day One: Opening Night

For the opening night, Ivette picked out a dress from King Corp’s line. A dress that spoke power and elegance. She was the lady of the night in her midnight black dress that swept the red carpet laid out before Battersea Evolution.

The plunging neckline was a show stopper and heads turned in her direction as she walked, several eyes dipping to her generous cleavage that even Aaron couldn’t take his eyes off. The skirts billowed around her like dark sea waves and a thigh-high slit parted the storm, exposing Ivette’s long legs in the loveliest fashion. They couldn’t tell where to look. Her bosoms or her legs.

“You look stunning, Ivy,” Aaron breathed, taking her outstretched hand and pressing a kiss to her fingertips. The plastered smile on Ivette’s blood-red lips only stretched farther and Ivette ensured the smile reached her eyes.

“Likewise,” She cooed, hooking her arm with his as they walked the length of the carpet together. Cameras flashed, and lip-ribboned microphones were nearly shoved into their faces as the journalists followed them.

“Miss King, will Maxwell Industries be buying out the shares of King Corporations?” Ivette’s steps faltered, slightly.

Another microphone was shoved into her face, too close for comfort and Ivette struggled to get more air in when the next reporter said, “Is King Corporation on the verge of bankruptcy? Hence, the merger?”

Ivette’s smile started to falter. Usually, it wasn’t hard to ignore the press. She knew they picked the most aggravating questions to rouse reactions out of them. Still, it didn’t stop her from wanting to hurl the microphone into the reporter’s face.

Aaron’s hand was a force of steel against her back, urging her further into the building and past the swelling crowd of paparazzi and ushers, as if to remind her what the consequences of an outburst would be.

The proud smile had to remain.

Her shoulders had to remain high in the air. She couldn’t act out or react in public. It was the first thing her mother had drilled into her.

Another reporter shouted, voice rising above the rest clamoring for attention. “Is your union with Mr. Maxwell one of love or convenience?!”

As if sensing the storm about to break loose, Aaron pushed her through the last of the reporters and into the Evolution that was decorated like a ballroom bathed with stars and dark night. Ivette sucked in a sharp breath, gripping the skirt of her gown hard enough to crumple it.

“Babe,” Aaron placed a hand on her either of her shoulders but she shrugged him off, uncaring of the eyes on them.

“I’m going to the restroom,” She muttered and pivoted before he could reply. She wove her way through the crowd milling around in their fineries, occasionally stopping to acknowledge a few acquaintances.

The hall was vast and she changed her mind about finding the restroom when she found the bar, off to the side of the hall.

“What would you like, Senorita?” The Italian bartender beamed, shaking a bottle of tequila vigorously. Ivette eyed the drink and did a cursory scan of the hall. The event would start in a few, after the red carpet. She could spy the security sidling off the press to the ends of the hall and the ushers directing them from the red carpet to the center, where the round tables awaited their occupants.

Her phone buzzed in her purse and she knew it would either be her father or Aaron. She let out a sigh. Better be sober than make a scene in front of so many. . .but she did miss the burn of alcohol in her throat. “Boulevardier, on the rocks,” She said and he grinned, lauding her in Italian.

He handed her the glass and she strutted across the hall, to the commencing event.

*****************

The opening event was like every other. Brief and introductory. The awards presentation would start the next day. Now, it was small boring talk and Ivette wanted nothing more than to ditch the event and soak in her bathtub.

“I hear Cian MacGregor is in attendance today,” Kerry, Aaron’s mother muttered and Ivette’s ears perked up at that. She sipped from her glass, even as she glanced around, searching for an unfamiliar face—not that she knew what the man looked like. Perchance, if she spotted the peachy secretary, she would find the man. However, Rosalind Franklin was nowhere to be seen. The reserved table for CG Enterprises was empty. Odd. Usually, Rosalind was busy smiling and rubbing her boss’ trophies in all of their faces. Perhaps, it was a small mercy that the woman was blissfully absent.

Aaron’s arm circled her waist and she smiled up at him instinctively. “Yeah?”

His lips brushed her earlobe as he leaned in, and his warm breath tickled her temple as he murmured breathily, “We could ditch the rest of this and head back. I’ve not had you to myself for a while, Ivy. I’m dying to see if my guess is right and there’s nothing underneath that dress.” Ivette swallowed, holding his frank gaze. It was the first time in a while that she’d let herself do so. Meet his gaze, honestly. The guilt came running and Ivette wasn’t fast enough to pivot out of the way before it could crash into her. She paused as the sudden urge to tell him everything overwhelmed her. She should tell him the truth. She owed him that at least. He would be mad. . .spitting mad. . .but it was better than letting the guilt consume her from within. “Aaron, there is—“

Amelia King gasped.

“Heavens, who is that?” Amelia King’s surprise was stark enough to startle Ivette and she paused.

Alden King turned and Ivette followed her father’s stern stare to the man being swarmed by the press, asking questions. Cian MacGregor, they yelled, toppling over each other to get a piece of him. His personal assistant, Rosalind Franklin sauntered over, paving a way through the crowd for the man who followed behind her.

Ivette frowned as she watched the moving figure behind Rosalind. The dim lighting of the Evolution wasn’t much help and she couldn’t make out his features yet. Though, she could tell he wasn’t hunched, bent, or crooked. The tabloids had been wrong then.

Luckily, Rosalind was headed their way, to the unoccupied table a few feet away from them. She would get a glimpse of the man who had led the world of business into a new era. The man who had frustrated all of Ivette and Aaron’s efforts to make it to the top. The businessman, whose boots they should all lick because he was so fucking great. Ivette couldn’t keep her scowl hidden as they drew nearer, drawing tons of attention. Even the bitchy host, Shay Alivia, had paused in her speech to formally welcome him to the event. Yeah, he was a freaking god, if he could make Shay Alivia pause mid-sentence.

“It would seem Mr. MacGregor. . .”

“Hmm. Surely, he must have heard of the merge and figured he’d be off his high horse soon enough,” Alden King cut in with an air of nonchalance, but Ivette knew her father. He was rattled. Disturbed by the sudden appearance of this man. It was indeed a sight to see, for nothing rattled Alden King.

“Either that or he’s gotten tired of playing house,” Aaron murmured as his thumb trailed up Ivette’s thigh, but Ivette’s concentration was trained on the moving man. He was a few feet away now and she could make out his profile enough to see a designer gray tux, resting upon broad shoulders and large biceps. She angled her head, wanting to see more of him and as if the universe heard her prayer, the spotlight shone on him.

Ivette’s world rocked as her eyes touched dark hair, slicked back into a bun, and trailed down to the face she’d remember even in her sleep. His tangible gaze met hers as he approached their table, approached her, and yet again, the world paused and every inch of her skin tingled with excitement like it recognized him.

Because it did.

And he recognized her too. Knew her better than she’d come to know herself, even if it had been one night.

Even now, he watched her like she was the one thing in the world he most desired, and hell if Ivette could stand it. He drew up short in front of their table and they rose as one to greet him, Ivette standing last with Aaron’s firm grip around her waist like he could sense something off. Rich brown eyes met hers and...

Holy shit.

Hell no.

Ivette’s brain turned into a puddle as she stared into those bright brown eyes that had wiped her world away on that night weeks ago. She would never forget those eyes that haunted her dreams every night. His knowing smile. His full mouth that had touched every inch of her skin. His dark hair that her fingers had dove into and pulled as she moaned against his tan skin. His scent that made her knees wobble with need.

At least, now she knew his name.

Cian MacGregor.

“Mr. MacGregor,” Alden greeted, extending a hand to the Scottish male who was yet to take his eyes off Ivette. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

Cian’s glance shifted to access Alden with enough scrutiny and intensity to make anyone squirm. As if finding nothing worth his time, he dismissed her father, looking at Ivette again, who had gone deathly pale. He extended his arm to her. “Miss King, I don’t believe we’ve met.” What in the name of all fucks did that even mean? “I don’t believe we’ve met?” They’d fucked like savages and nearly destroyed a hotel room and what? He didn’t know her now? For some reason, that hurt Ivette more than it should have and she arched an annoyed brow before wrapping her fingers around his.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Ivette jerked as the familiar electric effect zapped her.

In his own words, Burning Hell. If he felt the same thing, his face gave no indication and Ivette drew back almost immediately, visibly flustered.

“No, we’ve not,” She said, looking him dead in the eye.

His lips curved with amusement but he looked to Aaron. “And you must be Aaron Maxwell. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Likewise,” Aaron said tightly, looking between Ivette and Cian with a deep frown etched on his face, but he said nothing else.

Ivette tried to keep her eyes away from Cian but they seemed to keep wandering back to him as he approached his seat with his PA. Her memories had done him injustice. With a clearer head and a non-blurred vision, he was hotter, and she couldn’t stop staring. That was the man she’d had sex with. She couldn’t say if she was impressed or mortified.

The rest of the opening night went miserably for Ivette. Cian didn’t spare her a second glance for the entirety of the event. He didn’t even look their way. Didn’t notice Ivette staring at him for the rest of the night.

Aaron did notice, however.

“Know him?” Her fiancé asked.

“No,” Ivette lied.