Three

“Take your hand off my wife.”

Alexander’s voice carried across the reception hall, sharp enough to silence the nearest guests. The stranger beside me did not move. He simply looked at Alexander as though the interruption bored him.

“Your wife appeared to need help,” he replied. “I was offering it.”

“I can handle my wife.”

“Then perhaps you should have noticed someone humiliating her before a stranger did.”

A few people lowered their glasses to hide their reactions. Alexander’s face hardened, and I almost admired the stranger for saying what I had wanted to say for months.

Madison quickly stepped backward. “I was only joking. Victoria is being sensitive.”

The stranger looked at the wine dripping from my sleeve. “That is an unusual definition of a joke.”

He turned toward me. “Would you like to leave?”

I hesitated. I had spent the entire evening pretending that Alexander’s behaviour did not hurt. I was suddenly tired of pretending.

“Yes, thank you.”

Alexander caught my arm. “You are not leaving with him.”

I looked down at his fingers. “Let go.”

“Victoria, stop embarrassing me.”

The stranger’s eyes moved to Alexander’s hand. “She asked you to let go.”

Alexander released me, but his expression promised a conversation later. I followed the stranger out of the ballroom, aware of the whispers rising behind us.

In the corridor, he introduced himself.

“Nathaniel Blackwood.”

The name meant something. Everyone in the business world knew the Blackwoods, whose investment group had quietly acquired several major companies. Nathaniel was said to be difficult to approach and even more difficult to impress.

“I’m Victoria Hayes,” I replied.

“I know.”

I looked at him sharply. “How?”

“Your work has been discussed in design circles. I have seen some of your projects.”

That explanation was plausible, but something about his expression suggested there was more. Before I could ask, pain shot through my ankle. I had twisted it when Madison knocked into me.

Nathaniel noticed my stumble and immediately steadied me.

“You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You’re limping.”

“I said it’s nothing.”

He studied me for a moment, then gestured toward a nearby chair. “Sit down before you make it worse.”

I wanted to refuse, but my ankle throbbed. He crouched to inspect it without touching more than necessary, then called his driver and asked him to bring the car around.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said.

“I know.”

He helped me outside and drove me to a private clinic. During the short journey, my phone rang repeatedly. Alexander’s name flashed across the screen until I finally switched it off.

Nathaniel glanced at the dark display. “You don’t have to answer him.”

“I know that too.”

The clinic confirmed a mild sprain and wrapped my ankle. Nathaniel waited until the doctor finished, then offered to drive me home. I gave him the address, embarrassed by how quiet the car became.

When we reached my building, I thanked him and tried to step out alone. My ankle protested immediately.

He came around and opened my door. “Let me help you.”

“I can manage.”

“Victoria, accepting help is not a declaration of weakness.”

I looked at him, startled by the gentleness beneath his firm voice. He supported my elbow until I reached the entrance.

A familiar car was parked outside.

Alexander stood beside it, his hands in his pockets and his expression dark with anger. His gaze moved from Nathaniel’s hand to my face.

“So this is where you went,” he said. “You left a public event with another man and expect me not to ask questions?”

Nathaniel stepped back, allowing me to answer.

I met my husband’s eyes. “You were too busy looking after Chloe to notice when I left.”

Alexander’s jaw flexed. “Do not bring her into this.”

Nathaniel’s expression changed slightly. “Interesting. You can bring your assistant everywhere, but your wife cannot accept a ride home?”

Alexander turned toward him. “Stay out of my marriage.”

Nathaniel gave a short, humourless smile. “I would, if you were treating it like one.”

Alexander moved closer, but I stepped between them.

“Enough. I am going upstairs.”

I walked away without waiting for either man. Behind me, Alexander called my name, but Nathaniel’s voice stopped him.

“Mr. Sterling, if you keep treating her as though she has nowhere else to go, you may soon discover how wrong you are.”

I did not turn around. I only wondered why a stranger seemed to understand my marriage better than my husband did.