Chapter 5: The Invitation

Five months after signing her divorce papers, Elena received an invitation that made her pause.

The Ashford Foundation Annual Gala. A charity event Marcus hosted every year to network with the city's elite and raise money for arts education.

Elena had never attended during their marriage. She'd never been invited.

But this year, her name appeared on the guest list. Not as Marcus Ashford's ex-wife, but as Elena Cordova, Principal Consultant, Cordova Analytics.

Her work had made her visible enough to warrant an invitation on her own merit.

Aunt Paulina saw the cream-colored invitation on Elena's kitchen counter and smiled knowingly. "You should go."

"Absolutely not. That would be torture."

"Would it?" Paulina picked up the invitation, examining the elegant calligraphy. "Or would it be an opportunity to show everyone who dismissed you exactly what they missed?"

Elena thought about it. She'd spent five months avoiding anything connected to her old life. But her aunt was right about one thing: she did belong in those rooms now. Not as someone's wife, but as herself.

"I don't know if I'm ready to see Marcus," Elena admitted.

"Then don't go for Marcus. Go for you. Go because you have every right to be there."

Elena stared at the invitation for a long moment. "Fine. I'll go."

Elena spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing a dress. Everything in her closet suddenly seemed wrong. Too plain, too conservative, too much like the invisible wife she used to be.

Finally, she went shopping and found a midnight blue gown that was elegant without being flashy. When she tried it on, she looked powerful. That's what decided it.

The night of the gala, Elena stood in front of her mirror, barely recognizing herself. Hair swept up in an elegant style. Minimal jewelry. The blue dress that made her look like she belonged among the wealthy and influential.

She counted backward from thirty before leaving her apartment. Thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight.

"You can do this," she told her reflection. "You belong there now."

The Grand Metropolitan Hotel ballroom looked like something from another century. Crystal chandeliers dripped light across marble floors. Women in designer gowns mingled with men in expensive tuxedos. Waiters circulated with champagne and hors d'oeuvres.

Elena stepped inside and immediately felt heads turn. Not because they recognized her, but because success has a presence that people notice even when they don't understand why.

She accepted a champagne flute from a passing waiter and scanned the crowd. It took less than thirty seconds to spot Marcus.

He stood near the center of the ballroom, surrounded by business associates, holding court the way he always did. He looked successful and handsome as always.

And beside him, touching his arm possessively, was Vivian. She wore white, her hand resting protectively on her very pregnant belly. Making sure everyone could see.

Elena felt the familiar tightness beginning in her chest. She counted quietly. Ten, nine, eight, seven.

Before Marcus could notice her arrival, someone appeared at her elbow.

"Elena Cordova."

The voice was deep, confident, and close enough that she startled slightly. She turned and found herself looking up at a man who seemed to command space without effort.

Dominic Kane.

She'd never met him, but she knew exactly who he was. Everyone in business did. Self-made billionaire, private equity legend, the man who turned struggling companies into empires.

"Mr. Kane," Elena acknowledged, keeping her voice steady despite her surprise.

"You've been avoiding my calls." His dark eyes held amusement rather than offense. "Three months I've been trying to schedule a meeting with you."

"I've been busy."

"Yes, I noticed. Busy doing the kind of analysis I should have hired you for first." He handed her a fresh champagne flute, somehow knowing hers was empty. "Your evaluation of the Miramar Tech deal was brilliant. You identified structural problems three separate consulting firms missed."

"You read my report?"

"I make it my business to know who the real talent is." Dominic's gaze was direct, assessing but not uncomfortable. "I have an acquisition I'm considering. Tech manufacturing, two billion dollars. The numbers look solid but something feels off. I'd like your perspective."

"I don't work for you, Mr. Kane."

"Not yet." His smile was slight but genuine. "But I'm persistent when I find someone worth pursuing. Professionally speaking."

Elena felt herself responding to his directness. No games, no pretense. Just straightforward professional respect.

"What makes you think I'd be interested?"

"Because you're too intelligent to stay small forever." Dominic tilted his head slightly, studying her. "You've spent five months doing contract work, helping other people build their empires. Eventually, you're going to want to build your own. When you do, you'll want partners who can match your ambition."

Before Elena could respond, the music shifted. A waltz began playing, and Dominic's hand was already extended toward her.

"Dance with me."

It wasn't quite a question, but it wasn't a command either. It was an invitation from someone who expected acceptance because he'd read the situation correctly.

Elena glanced across the ballroom. Marcus had finally spotted her. His face had gone pale. Vivian was staring too, her hand tightening on Marcus's arm.

Elena placed her hand in Dominic's. "One dance."

"That's all I need to make my case."