CHAPTER 5

Naomi sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the invitation so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The air in the room was thick due to tension and unsaid words. Ethan paced near the window, his jaw set in a hard line.

"You’re not going," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

Naomi exhaled shakily. "Ethan, you don’t understand. Damian doesn’t make idle threats. He just showed up, represented by someone else at your door. If I don’t show up, he’ll retaliate. And knowing him, it won’t just be me who suffers."

Ethan stopped pacing and turned to her, his gaze sharp. "Then we play this smart. You’ll go"

She shook her head violently. "No. No way. I just told you"

"…but you won’t be alone," he finished, stepping closer. "You think I’d actually let you walk into his territory without protection?"

Naomi blinked up at him, heart pounding. "He said to come alone."

Ethan smirked, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And you think I play by his rules? Are you not scared?"

Before she could argue further, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "It’s me. Get the boys ready. We have a problem."

Naomi watched him, realization dawning gradually, but speedily. "You still have them, boys?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Ethan hung up, slipping the phone into his pocket. "You think I walked away from that life empty-handed? I have people and resources. Damian isn’t the only one with power."

A flicker of hope ignited in her chest, but it was quickly overshadowed by fear. "Ethan, if he finds out you’re coming after him.“ She asked, curious

"He already knows," Ethan cut in. "That’s why he’s making this move, the reason he did not drop off the letter by himself. He’s trying to remind you that he still controls the board, using his businesses. But what he doesn’t know…"

Ethan cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. "Is that I’m always ten steps ahead."

A shiver ran down Naomi’s spine. She wondered what rich men aren’t, aside from murderers and self-centeredness

The night of the gala arrived too soon. Naomi stood in front of the full-length mirror in Ethan’s penthouse, clad in a sleek black gown that clung to her curves. The fabric was smooth against her skin, but it did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside her. She was physically trembling.

Ethan stepped behind her, his reflection appearing in the mirror. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his presence commanding as he adjusted his cuffs.

"You look breathtaking," he murmured, his hands settling on her waist. "Almost makes me want to keep you locked up here." He said, smiling.

She met his gaze in the mirror, her lips curving slightly. "You always did have control issues."

He smirked. "With you? Always." He smiled broadly.

Before she could respond, a knock at the door broke the moment. One of Ethan’s men entered, dressed in an earpiece and a dark suit. "The car’s ready. The team is in position."

Naomi swallowed hard. Sometimes love could be a tough decision to make.

Ethan took her hand, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles. "Stay close to me. No matter what happens, I won’t let him take you, and no harm will meet you."

She nodded, exhaling sharply. "If only you were always around like this in the first place."

As they stepped out into the night, Naomi couldn’t shake the feeling that she was walking straight into a trap.

And yet, with Ethan by her side, she had never felt stronger.

The drive to the gala was silent, the air thick with anticipation. Naomi sat beside Ethan in the backseat of the sleek black car, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. The city lights flashed by, but she barely noticed them. Her mind was fixated on what awaited her at the gala.

Ethan sat beside her, calm and collected, but she could feel the tension in his hand resting on his knee, fingers tapping lightly. He was preparing for war.

“You’re overthinking,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road ahead.

Naomi let out a soft laugh. “Of course, I am. Damian isn’t just going to let me waltz in and out. He’s planned something, I can feel it.”

Ethan reached over, taking her hand in his. “Let him plan. He has no idea what’s coming.”

Her heart pounded at the conviction in his voice. Despite everything, a part of her felt reassured by his presence. But deep down, she knew Damian was not a man to be underestimated.

The car pulled up to the grand hotel, its golden lights illuminating the night. The gala was in full swing, luxury cars lined up in the driveway, the rich and powerful of the city mingling inside. A valet opened Naomi’s door, and she stepped out, straightening her gown. Ethan followed, his presence commanding as he placed a protective hand on her lower back.

“Showtime,” he murmured.

Naomi lifted her chin, putting on the mask of confidence she had learned to perfect over the years. They ascended the marble steps together, entering the grand ballroom. Chandeliers glowed above, casting shimmering light over the elegantly dressed guests. A soft murmur filled the air, the clinking of glasses, and the distant hum of music setting an atmosphere of opulence.

Then, she saw him.

Damian stood near the center of the room, a glass of champagne in his hand, watching her with a knowing smirk. He was dressed in a sharp, dark suit, his signature confidence oozing from every movement. His presence commanded attention, and as their eyes met, Naomi felt the air grow thin.

Ethan tensed beside her. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his grip tightening slightly on her waist.

Before she could respond, Damian began to move toward them, his smirk widening. The crowd seemed to part for him as he approached, his gaze flickering between Naomi and Ethan. When he finally stopped in front of them, he tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

“You came,” Damian said smoothly, his voice rich with satisfaction. “And you brought company. How predictable.”

Naomi steadied herself. “What do you want, Damian?”

He chuckled, swirling the champagne in his glass. “Darling, this is our anniversary gala. Did you think I’d let it go to waste?” His gaze slid to Ethan. “Though, I must say, your taste in dates has become… repetitive.”

Ethan didn’t react outwardly, but Naomi felt the fury vibrating through him. “Cut the games,” Ethan said, his voice cold. “Why did you really invite her?”

Damian sighed theatrically. “So impatient. But fine, if you insist.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black envelope. “Consider this my real invitation.”

Naomi hesitated before taking it. The weight of it felt ominous in her hands. She glanced up at Damian, searching for any sign of his true intentions, but his expression remained unreadable.

“Open it,” he urged.

Slowly, she slid her nail under the flap and pulled out a single card. As her eyes scanned the words, her breath hitched.

Ethan noticed her reaction immediately. “What is it?”