Chapter Seven

Everything happened at once.

Gasps filled the ballroom as crystal glass shattered against the polished marble floor. The music from the from orchestra screeched to an abrupt halt beneath the deafening crash.

The silver tray spun through the air. Dozens of crystal glasses tumbled after it.

Deep red wine spilled out, bursting free like scattered rubies under the golden chandelier, each sparkling drop catching the light as though time had slowed.

For one surreal heartbeat it looked beautiful to see.

Then my brain finally caught up with my eyes, realizing what was happening.

It’s coming straight at me?!

I couldn’t move. My feet would not listen to me, as though already accepting the fact that even if I moved, the spills were inevitable. My beautiful pale evening gown would become nothing but a mess in a matter of seconds.

Not even Chairman Thorne nor Madam Diane would be able to avoid it. Neither of them was fast enough to get out of the way.

A broad body suddenly stepped between us in the blink of an eye.

One of the men I’d mistaken for an ordinary guest.

One of Alexander’s security personnel.

I helplessly watched how he held his tuxedo jacket in front of him like a shield. The jacket stopped most of the wine just before it could reach us, the heavy fabric fluttering slightly from the weak force of the spills.

The rest of the wine splashed harmlessly on the floor, and a little at the hem of my dress.

I then heard a collective sigh swept through the ballroom.

The turned to me and guard bowed his head.

“My apologies, Madam.” His voice was calm even though he’d just prevented a spectacle. “I should have anticipated the collision much sooner.”

I simply stared at him as though he’d grown a second head.

Trouble just seemed to follow me about tonight. Am I cursed?

“…You…”

“You did.” Alexander’s voice vibrated the room, interrupting me and walking through the parting crowd like he commanded them to with his presence alone.

He crossed the ballroom with long, purposeful strides.

And for the first time I’d met him, his composed expression had cracked. Not dramatically no enough for people to see.

But it could be noticed in the way his jaw tightened, his blue sapphire eyes moved quickly over me. Checking, assessing, making sure I wasn’t hurt.

After seconds, he seemed to relax.

“Are you hurt?” He asked quietly.

“I…I don’t think so.”

“You don’t thing so?” His eyes met mine. “Or you aren’t?”

The way he asked that question was as though he was asking for permission to destroy the waiters who caused such accident. I wasn’t ready to see anyone cry this evening, so I quickly looked down at my dress, at the red drops on the edge of my beige satin gown. I took a deep breath, because I so did not want to think of how expensive this gown Alexander got me was.

“My pride is hurt a little.” I stated bluntly. Alexander’s brow raised looking at me, then down to the hem of my dress. Then he let out a huff, almost a laugh but barely as he turned away.

The two waiters who caused such commotion were shaking. One of them was still on the floor surrounded by broken glass fragments, while the other looked like he’d faint soon.

“I-I’m sorry Mr. Thorne,” The one standing said, still trembling. “It was…it was an accident, sir.”

Alexander didn’t answer. His eyes on the waiter were cold and intimidating, as they shifted toward the shattered glasses on the tray.

The wine staining the marble floor. His gaze narrowed a bit, as though putting something together.

“No…” The single word from him, deep and certain from everyone in confusion.

“Sir?”

Alexander looked at the young waiter.

“You weren’t looking at the dessert cart.” He said and the waiter’s breath hitched, his throat bobbing from a gulp. “You were looking ahead…and altered your direction.” He continued calmly.

“N-no sir…I-I didn’t-”

“You did.”

Alexander said, never raising his voice, not a word exclaimed.

“I had my gaze on my wife…till you came into view.” He said, taking a slow step forward. “So, I saw you.”

He pointed at the floor, the mess leaving it now stained. “The other server was walking in a straight line. Heading to the senator’s table.” His head tilted at the waiter, his hand dropping.

“You however, changed course. Because if I remember correctly, all wine servers after serving are stationed by the entrées, in case of refills. Another serving round was not to commence until the next ten minutes. But you moved…and you collided with the dessert cart precisely, as you reached my wife.”

I just stood by absolutely flabbergasted. The cruciality to detail was what one would call amazing, but with how he stated the planned schedule for the servers was left to a word I couldn’t think of that could match how crazy the moment was. I felt goosebumps rise on my skin, a chill that was both good and bad.

Well, he’s not a billionaire for nothing.

“You had six feet of open floor, and yet, you managed to fall directly in front of Chloe.” He stated, as though presenting evidence in a board meeting like on the shows I’ve watched.

I stepped forward, my hand resting gently on his arm. “Alexander, I’m fine. It was an accident.” I said, trying to calm down the cold fire burning at the moment.

“No, it wasn’t. And I do not believe in coincidences either.” He said, making the waiter’s face to drain of colour the more. “Who sent you?”

“I…”

“I asked a question.”

“No one-”

Alexander took another step forward, interrupting the waiter.

“Don’t lie to me.” His voice became even deeper. A bellow so dangerous as it vibrated the room’s temperature down. “I’ve spent fifteen years negotiating billion-dollar contracts. So I know when someone is lying.”

The young waiter visibly broke. His hands shaking and fidgeting.

“I…I’m sorry, sir. I…I just wanted to make some extra-”

“Who. Sent. You?” Alexander asked again, the guests beginning to murmur.

The waiter’s eyes slowly lifted. Not toward Alexander. Toward the crowd of guests. His gaze stopping at one woman’s direction particularly. And following his gaze, there was Vivian.

She went completely still.

“…Miss Vivian.” The waiter said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But…but she said I was to only ruin the dress, I swear. There was no intention to hurt the young madam, sir.”

I looked up at Alexander’s face and felt as though I should take a step back. His gaze was already on Vivian, and it was one so cold it seemed it had the potential of freezing hell over.

Gasps and murmurs whispered through the room. It was as though the scene of Mark and Ruby was repeating itself. The reactions were the same, and then I understood. Messing with the Thornes, is declaring you’re ready to start life all over again with the worse foundation.

Vivian closed her eyes, and when she opened them, there was no fear in it, nor shame, nor guilt. Just exhaustion. One that said she didn’t care anymore what people thought of her.

“Oliver.” Alexander called, and the security guy that saved me from the incident straightened next to him, his jacket placed in one of the server’s hands, neatly folded for washing.

“Yes sir.”

“Get her out.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And…let this be the last Thorne function Vivian Danvers ever attends.” He announced. The media’s cameras flashed, reporters hastily wrote on their notes, ready to spread Alexander’s words like it were a new law or decree.

That one sentence, one decision, stripped Vivian of every social value she had, and I could feel it.

“Miss Danvers.” Oliver approached respectfully, offering his arm. Vivian looked at him, a soft huff escaping her and a sad smile on her face.

“That won’t be necessary.” She said, her voice steady. She set her untouched champagne flute on the table before smoothening out an invisible wrinkle on her dress.

She looked at Alexander. Not with anger. Not with resentment. Just sadness. And for a long moment, she stared at Alexander, hoping he might have more to say, but he just kept glaring at her coldly. That look was expressive enough. Then her gaze shifted to me.

I could see her jealousy and regret.

“Be careful, Chloe…or you’ll be thrown away the moment they start questioning your value.”

“That’s enough.” Alexander stepped forward, almost shielding me from her gaze. “Oliver.”

“Miss Danvers.”

“I’ve know.”

Oliver followed a respectful distance behind her as she walked herself out of the building. She left without much of a fight, however it seemed like a defeat she had accepted. Just not the way she planned it to go down.

The towering oak doors closed with a soft click, and with it, the ballroom gradually returned to life. The guests now having so much gossip to discuss in quiet whispers. The orchestra, after exchanging uncertain glances amongst themselves, slowly picked up the melody they had stopped earlier, allowing elegant notes to once again drift within the room as the glasses and mess made were being cleaned up without as much as an order.

It was as though everyone had silently agreed to pretend nothing had happened, but that couldn’t stop their mouths from moving.

I, however, could feel my hands slightly shaking. I had to rub them together to get some warmth back into them. I wasn’t scared, just trying reel back in from the two drama scenarios I just unfortunately was the victim of. Not to count the weight of countless curious eyes lingering on me.

I brushed at the red stains at the hem of my dress when I felt Alexander’s hand hold my arm.

“You okay?” He asked, looking straight into my eyes as though searching for something.

I nodded. “Yeah. My dress is ruined though.” I said with a sigh.

“It’ll come out.” He replied calmly, like it was no big deal, his features a bit at ease.

“You sound quite confident. Got some super laundry service or something, Mr. Thorne?” I joked, but he didn’t answer, rather even he cleared his throat.

“You don’t really have a super laundry service team, do you?”

“I had another dress prepared.”

“What? You what?”

“The boutique sent two.” He answered casually. “In case something happened.”

I blinked.

“You bought…two identical gowns?”

“No.” His gaze dropped briefly to the wine stain before returning back to my face. “The second one is ivory.”

I stared, not believing my ears.

“Who prepares backup evening gowns to a function like this?”

“You apparently need one.”

“…” I narrowed my eyes at him. “…you know it’s not my fault.”

“Never inquired it was.”

“Oh, you’re enjoying this.”

“I’m not.”

“I think you’re developing a sense of humour there.”

“I strongly disagree.”

Chairman Thorne let out an amused laugh behind us. Madam Diane letting out a little chuckle as well. But Alexander ignored them and grabbed my wrist.

“Come with me.”

He dragged me away from the ballroom and into one of the quieter hallways. I didn’t have in mind where he was taking me, a restroom perhaps?

The sounds of the gala gradually faded behind us. The orchestra became nothing more than a distant melody, so did the chattering. Soon enough, all we could hear was the constant sound and rhythmic click of our footsteps against the marble floor.

“Alexander…where are we going?” I finally asked, as curiosity had gotten to me.

“The private suites reserved for the Thorne family.” He replied cooly. “No matter what hotel or event hall is used within the city and outside it, a private suite is always available for our family members whenever they host our events.”

“Okay.” I looked down at his hand still wrapped around my wrist. “Alexander.”

“Another question?”

“No…”

He looked over his shoulder.

“…but you can let go now.”

He finally noticed as his eyes dropped to where our hands were still connected. And without saying anything, he released his hold on me.

“Apologies.”

“It’s fine. You probably got frustrated.” I said massaging my wrist, not because it hurt, but the warmth from his touch still lingered in a way that left me wanting more. But of course, I’d never admit to that.

“Yes, you’re quite the frustration.” He responded and continued moving forward, expecting me to follow. I awkwardly cleared my throat, because although I was offended by what he said, I had to accept the fact that I had caused a whole lot of drama and trouble in one night.

Great, now he probably hates me. Nice going Chloe.

We stopped before an ornate mahogany door, of which Alexander opened with a keycard.

The room beyond was larger than my entire apartment. It had soft amber lighting that reflected against cream-coloured walls, a fireplace that crackled quietly despite the cool evening outside, large windows from floor-to-ceiling that showed off the glittering city skyline, and a dressing area that disappeared behind carved double doors.

Everything smelled faintly of cedarwood and freshly laundered linen.

Alexander walked over to an elegant wardrobe, removing a large ivory garment bag and handed it over to me.

“I had them deliver the spare gown her earlier. You’ll find everything you need inside.”

I accepted it from him, mesmerised by the beauty of the gown in a new colour, and its silky fabric. “Thank you.”

His expression softened subtly.

“I’ll wait outside.”

I disappeared into the dressing room before he could notice how warm and flushed my face had suddenly become.

After putting the gown on, I came out and stood in front of the full-body mirror.

The replacement gown was gloriously beautiful, and way simpler than the beige gown that got messed up, and yet somehow even more elegant.

I reached behind me for the zipper, pulling it up. It moved halfway but then stopped. I frowned.

“Crap.”

Another predicament.

I tried again, but it wouldn’t budge. I twisted awkwardly, trying to look over my shoulder to see what got it stuck. The zipper hadn’t broken, thank goodness, however, it had caught the inner linen.

“Oh, come on.” I tugged on it more gently, shaking it a bit to try and get it free, but still, nothing worked.

Five minutes passed, and I was still standing in the same position with one arm twisted over my shoulder, losing a battle against the dang zipper. I dropped my hand and sighed rather dramatically and frustratedly.

“…This is beyond humiliating.”

With much reluctance, I walked toward the door, opening it only slightly.

“Alexander?”

He instantly looked up from the armchair where he’d been quietly reading something on his tablet.

“Yes?”

“…Could you…” I started, but the words got stuck in my throat. He waited patiently, however.

“…Could you ask one of the hotel attendants to come help me?”

He stood up, straightening his suit jacket. “Of course.” He said, and a feeling of relief washed over me.

“Thank heavens.”

Minutes more passed as I waited for Alexander to find someone to help me. And came a knock on the dressing room door.

“Come in.” I said without thinking. Just relieved that help finally came.

“I swear the zipper is plotting against me.” I said turning around immediately for them to have a good look at the zipper. The door opened softly.

“I couldn’t find anyone nearby.” Alexander’s voice resonated in the quiet room, and I froze. “I’ll help.”

“…” I was dumbfounded for a second before snapping out of it. “Wait, you?”

“Yes.”

“…A-Alexander.”

“Hm?”

I swallowed, trying to choose my words carefully and in a polite manner.

“I wanted…someone else.”

“I know.”

His footsteps stopped at a respectful distance behind me. “There wasn’t anyone available.”

The room felt smaller all of a sudden. My fingers instinctively tightened around the gown. I saw him tilt his head through the mirror, noticing my nervousness. He took a deep breath like a tired worker.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me it’s alright.” His voice remained steady as ever, with no trace of jest in it, just a quiet reassurance that seemed to make heartbeat even worse.

Ahhh, I’m screwed.

I laughed nervously. “Isn’t this a little awkward…?”

“For you perhaps.” He said right away.

“…Not for you?”

“No.”

I was taken aback. I really want to beat him up for some reason.

My gaze slowly looked at him through the mirror. And he looked completely composed.

“As far as I’m concerned,” He said, matter-of-factly, “I’m helping my wife fix her zipper