Chapter 4

I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Elroy stood before me in a tailored black suit, looking like he had stepped out of a magazine. His hair was neatly styled, his posture relaxed.

He gave me a dramatic bow

.

“Well,” he said, eyes scanning me openly, “don’t you clean up nicely.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“Oh, I’m not approving,” he replied smoothly. “I’m just curious. Who are you trying to impress tonight?”

I took a slow sip of champagne. “Certainly not a student.”

He laughed. Actually laughed.

“I like this version of you,” he said. “Less… terrifying.”

“If you have something important to say, say it.”

“I do,” he said, extending his hand. “Dance with me.”

I stared at his hand like it was a joke.

“Absolutely not.”

He stepped closer, stretching his hand out slightly. “It’s a slow dance. Harmless. Unless you’re afraid people will think you’re human.”

I swatted his hand lightly. “This is inappropriate.”

“Relax,” he said quietly. “It’s just a dance.”

The band had begun playing something soft and low. People were already moving to the center of the room.

“It’s a welcome event,” he added. “Not a courtroom.”

I should have walked away.

Instead, tired of arguing, I sighed and placed my hand in his.

One dance. That was all.

His hand settled gently at my waist—not too low, not disrespectful. My free hand rested awkwardly on his shoulder.

We began to move.

He was a good dancer. He was steady and confident.

“You hate people like me,” he said after a moment.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You assume we’re lazy. Spoiled. Useless.”

“That’s not true.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You called my presentation ‘predictable’ before I even finished speaking.”

“It was predictable.”

“And you graded my paper harsher than anyone else’s.”

“Because I expect better from you.”

“Or because I’m a Vans?”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But he didn’t look offended. Just thoughtful.

“You don’t even try to hide it,” he said softly.

The song ended before I could respond.

I stepped back immediately. “This conversation is over.”

I moved away, needing space, and grabbed another glass of champagne. My pulse felt uneven.

As if I hadn’t had enough of the night already, my phone buzzed suddenly, the sound slicing through me.

I froze.

The message was from an unknown number.

My fingers trembled as I opened the message.

It was a photo of the venue, taken from outside through one of the tall glass windows. The timestamp read two minutes ago.

My stomach dropped.

The air around me disappeared. My vision blurred as I zoomed in on the image. The angle was clear—whoever took it had been standing across the street. Watching.

Another message appeared just then.

“You look beautiful tonight.”

My heart slammed violently against my ribs. Cold sweat spread across my back.

He was here. In New York.

And he was so close to me now than I had imagined.

I scanned the room wildly, though I knew he wouldn’t be inside. He liked control. Distance. The power of knowing I didn’t know where he was.

The room tilted and I stumbled backward, clutching my chest as everything suddenly went blank.

*** 

When I woke, my body jerked upright before my eyes even opened properly. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it was trying to escape my chest. For one terrifying second, I thought I was back there. 

Back with Melvin.

I could almost smell his cologne. I could almost hear his voice.

My hands flew to my arms, half expecting bruises to ache under my fingers.

But the bed beneath me was too soft, too wide and too unfamiliar. I blinked quickly, forcing my vision to clear. The ceiling above me was white and high, with a crystal chandelier hanging in the center. The sheets were silk, cool against my skin. This wasn’t my small apartment. And it sure as hell wasn’t Melvin’s place either.

Then I noticed the faces before me. Strangers stood around the bed, their expressions tight with concern. My breathing quickened again until a familiar face leaned closer, blocking the others from view.

“Elroy?” I whispered, confused.

He looked different in this light---softer and less annoying. His usually playful eyes were filled with worry.

“Easy,” he said gently. “You passed out.”

His hand rested on my back, rubbing slow circles like he was calming a frightened child. I hated how comforting it felt. He reached for a glass of water on the bedside table and held it toward me.

“Here,” he said. “Have some.”

My hands shook as I took it. The cool water helped, but not enough to stop the embarrassment crawling up my neck.

I had fainted? And in front of him? I closed my eyes briefly, wondering what he had thought. My eyes returned to the other faces in the room. 

A woman stepped forward. She was elegant, dressed in a cream silk blouse, her hair styled neatly away from her face. She looked like someone who had never worried about anything all her life.

“Hello, my dear?” She took my hand gently. “Are you alright, dear? What happened?”

Before I could answer, Elroy spoke.

“She just passed out. Probably stress.” 

The word ‘stress’ rang in my ear. Stress? If only that was all it was.

“I—I’m so sorry,” I blurted out immediately. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. I don’t even know how I got here.”

Elroy’s mother smiled softly. “You collapsed at the event. Elroy called us and insisted we bring you home.”

My eyes widened as I finally looked around properly.

The room was enormous. A painting that looked expensive hung on one wall. The curtains were thick and golden. Even the air smelled rich.

This was their house?

I shot Elroy a questioning look. He simply shrugged and gave me a small smile, like this was no big deal at all.

For minutes, my heart thumped against my chest as I stared at them, unsure of what to say.