Chapter 25: IN THE MIDDLE OF THEM.

THE DAY OF THE BALL.

         Alan and I step into the ballroom, and for a fleeting moment, the world around us ceases to exist.

I feel the weight of his gaze on me before I even turn to meet it. When I do, the intensity in his eyes sends a shiver through me. He looks at me like he's trying to memorize every detail, like I'm something rare-something he doesn't want to look away from.

I believe it's because of the deep-black satin dress that clung to my body in all the right ways, the shimmer of tiny crystals making me glow under the ballroom lights. My soft waves frame my delicate face.

His voice is low, almost reverent. "You're so beautiful."

The words send a warmth through me, leaving me momentarily speechless.

But then, my eyes take him in fully-the midnight-black tuxedo, perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt beneath, and the deep burgundy bowtie that matches my dress. He's effortlessly handsome, devastatingly so, but it's his eyes-dark, smoldering, watching me like I'm the only thing that matters-that leave me breathless.

I swallow, struggling to find my voice. "Thank you. You look incredible, too."

A slow smirk tugs at his lips as he offers his arm. "Shall we?"

I take it, letting him guide me into the grand ballroom, where the murmurs start almost immediately. The chandeliers cast a golden glow over the elegantly dressed crowd, but I barely register the opulence of the room.

Because across the room, standing near the bar, is Blake.

His grip tightens around the glass in his hand, his knuckles turning white as his eyes find me. I can feel the weight of his stare like a physical touch, dragging over every inch of me.

He wasn't expecting this. Wasn't expecting me to arrive with Alan.

He doesn't look away.

Neither do I.

Something shifts in his expression-something dark, unreadable. My heart stutters in my chest as we hold each other's gaze, the air between us charged with something I can't name.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he sets his glass down. Straightens.

And speaks.

"Samantha. A moment."

His voice is quiet but firm, cutting through the noise of the room.

Beside me, I feel Alan's body tense, his easy demeanor hardening slightly. I glance up at him, but he doesn't say anything-just watches me as I step away.

I walk toward Blake, my heartbeat hammering against my ribs.

When I reach him, he says nothing.

He just stares.

Not speaking. Not blinking.

Just looking.

The intensity of his gaze sends heat crawling up my neck. His eyes roam over my face, down to the curve of my collarbone, lingering on the way my dress hugs my waist.

I shift under his scrutiny, suddenly self-conscious. "You wanted to talk?"

But Blake doesn't answer right away.

And for the first time in a long time, he looks like he doesn't know what to say.

Blake finally speaks, his voice measured. "You came with him?"

I tense at the question, knowing exactly what he means.

"Yes," I say, keeping my chin up. "Alan asked me to be his date."

Blake's jaw tightens, his expression unreadable. "And when were you planning to tell me?"

I swallow. "I didn't think it mattered."

Something flickers in his gaze-irritation, maybe even disappointment-but he exhales sharply and shakes his head. "It does."

I frown. "Why?"

Blake doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches for a drink from a passing waiter and takes a slow sip, his eyes still on me. His silence is more unsettling than words.

“Well, let’s start with the obvious,” he finally says, voice calm but edged with steel. “He’s my brother. And you’re my assistant—personal assistant. So don’t blame me for wanting to know what happens in my own home.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I didn’t think it mattered.

“When it comes to you, everything matters.” he says calmly.

“It won’t happen again.” 

“No, no… of course it wouldn’t,” he replies, a faint strain tightening his jaw, giving away more than he intends.

Then, without another word, he tilts his head toward the crowd. “Come with me.”

And just like that, the conversation is over.

————

For the next hour, I find myself caught between Blake and Alan.

Every time I try to return to Alan, Blake finds a way to keep me at his side-introducing me to high-profile guests, making me take notes—in my memory, handing me a glass of wine as if to keep me grounded near him.

I catch Alan's gaze across the room more than once. His frustration is clear, his fingers drumming against his glass as he watches Blake monopolize my time.

At first, Alan doesn't intervene. He waits, letting it go on longer than he should.

Then, finally, he's had enough.

Alan steps in beside me just as I'm speaking with Blake.

"I believe my date owes me a dance," Alan says smoothly, his voice cutting through the conversation.

Blake looks at him, his expression impassive, but there's something sharp in his eyes.

For a brief moment, the tension between them is tangible.

Then Blake steps aside.

“Don’t keep her too long,” Blake says, his voice smooth but laced with something sharp underneath.

“She’s my date tonight, brother. My date. But I guess you already knew that… and yet you still kept her close all night—working, no less. Like tonight isn’t supposed to be her free night.” Alan’s voice is low, edged with frustration and possessiveness.

I exhale softly as Alan takes my hand and leads me to the dance floor.

The moment we step onto the dance floor, his grip tightens slightly, his hold possessive.

"Alan—” I start, unsettled.

“—He barely let you breathe, did he?” Alan murmurs, his tone low, right against my ear as we sway.

I glance up at him, flustered. “It’s not like that.”

Alan scoffs softly, spinning me with practiced ease. “It’s exactly like that. You walk into the room on my arm and suddenly he can’t take his eyes off you.” He leans in closer, his voice darker now. “And now he’s pacing in that perfectly-tailored suit of his, pretending he doesn’t want to drag you away from me.”

My chest tightens.

“He’s not used to wanting something he doesn’t already own,” Alan adds, eyes scanning my face.

“I’m not a thing,” I say, breathless.

He smiles faintly. “No. Of course not sweetheart, but I saw the way he looked at you tonight—and I don’t think he knows that.”

His hand slides a bit lower on my back, pulling me closer as we move in sync.

“Just for tonight,” he says, almost a whisper, “forget about him. Let him watch.”

The music slows, and Alan pulls me closer.

From the sidelines, I feel Blake's eyes on us. Even without looking, I know he's watching 

Alan's voice lowers, his breath warm against my ear.

"You've barely spent a moment with me all night. And I don't like that.”

I part my lips to respond, but the weight of Blake's gaze presses down on me.

Alan notices too. His jaw clenches slightly before he exhales, shaking his head.

"Forget him," Alan says. "It's just us now."

I want to believe that. Want to forget the tension, the invisible battle between the brothers.

For now, I let myself enjoy the dance.

The warmth of Alan's touch.

The way he looks at me like I'm the only person in the room.

When the song ends, he doesn't immediately let go.

And I don't step away.

Finally, having me to himself, Alan leads me to a quieter corner of the ballroom.

The moment we step away from the crowd, I feel like I can finally breathe.

We talk. We laugh. The tension from earlier fades, replaced by something warmer, something easier.

Still, there's an edge to Alan.

At some point, his fingers graze over my wrist, a touch so subtle yet deliberate that it sends a shiver up my arm. His voice lowers.

"So? What do you think?"

I blink up at him. "Think about what?"

He gestures toward the grand ballroom, the golden chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of elegantly dressed guests. The hum of conversation blends with the soft notes of a string quartet.

"The ball," he clarifies. "Is it everything you imagined?"

I let out a small breath, looking around once more, trying to take it all in.

"It's... beautiful," I admit. "It's something I've only ever seen in movies. And now I'm here, experiencing it for real."

A small smile tugs at his lips. "Your first ball, then?"

I nod, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah. First time dressing up like this. First time being somewhere this grand."

Alan tilts his head slightly, as if memorizing my words. "I'm surprised Blake didn't know that."

I shift under his gaze. "It's not exactly something that comes up in casual conversation."

His smirk deepens. "Maybe not. But it's the kind of thing I'd want to know."

I glance up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

"I still know so little about you, sweetheart." He steps in slightly, his tone softer now. "Where you're from. How you grew up. What makes you, you."

I hesitate, feeling the weight of his curiosity. "There's not much to tell."

His fingers brush against mine again, his touch lingering. "Don't say that." His voice is quiet but firm. "Every detail about you is important."

Something about the way he says it makes my heart skip.

"Maybe after this ball," he continues, "we can have some time to ourselves. Just us."

I hold his gaze for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Alan starts to say something else, his expression softening—

But before he can, a shadow falls over us.

Blake.

His presence shifts the air instantly, the unspoken battle between them crackling back to life.

And just like that, the moment is gone.

The air between Alan and Blake is thick with tension, a silent battle unfolding right in front of me.

Blake's voice is calm, but there's an unmistakable edge to it. "She has responsibilities tonight Alan."

Alan doesn't move. His grip on my wrist tightens just slightly, as if he's unwilling to let me go.

"She's not working right now," Alan says, his tone clipped. "She's here with me."

Blake's expression doesn't change, but I catch the slight twitch of his jaw. "That doesn't change the fact that she's still my assistant."

Alan lets out a quiet, humorless chuckle. "Is that what she is to you?" His voice is low, challenging.

I feel my stomach twist.

Alan's grip is firm but not forceful, his body angled slightly in front of mine like he's shielding me from Blake. The tension is suffocating, thick with an unspoken battle of dominance between them.

Blake doesn't even flinch. His expression remains unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is enough to make my breath hitch.

"I don't think that's any of your business," Blake finally says, voice even measured.

Alan exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. "It is when you keep dragging her away from me all night." His hand flexes at his side, his frustration barely restrained. "If she's your assistant, fine. But tonight? She's my date."

“Yeah, right. Because of all the women you could bring to the ball, my assistant had to be the one you chose—and I had no idea until tonight.”

“She’s your employee, Blake, not your responsibility. She only needs to serve during work hours, but she has a life outside work.”

Alan scoffs, stepping closer and continuing. “Funny how her ‘work hours’ seem to stretch into the middle of the ball when you want to keep her close.”

I swallow hard, caught between them.

Then he looks at me, then back to Blake. “Tonight’s her night off. You made sure she didn’t have one. That’s… rather selfish of you.”

Blake’s jaw tightens again. The tension between them crackles like electricity.

I can't do this.

I step forward, placing a hesitant hand on Alan's chest, my fingers brushing against the smooth fabric of his tuxedo. "Alan..." My voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

His gaze drops to mine immediately, the frustration in his eyes softening just slightly at my touch.

"It will just be a moment okay," I murmur, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. "I'll be back."

Alan holds my stare for a long moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He doesn't want to let me go—I can feel it in the way his body remains rigid, in the way his fingers twitch like he wants to pull me back. But after what feels like forever, he exhales sharply through his nose and releases me.

His fingers brush against mine as he lets go, but before I step away, his voice drops low, just for me.

"Don't make me wait too long sweetheart." The quiet warning sends a shiver down my spine.

I swallow hard and nod, then turn to Blake.

He says nothing, only flicks a glance at Alan before motioning for me to follow him.

And as I walk away, I can feel Alan's eyes burning into my back, his frustration still simmering beneath the surface....

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