Chapter 2

Unfortunately, the first person to reach us was my mother.

“Maria, darling,” she said, as if she had casually stumbled upon me instead of hunting through the ballroom for the last ten minutes. “There you are.”

She stopped beside Daniel with the kind of pleased smile that immediately made me uneasy.

“And Daniel,” she added warmly. “It’s been far too long.”

Daniel gave a small, polite nod. The kind that belonged in boardrooms.

“Mrs. Walker.”

My father appeared a second later, looking pleasantly surprised in that very practiced way he used when speaking to investors.

“Well,” he said, glancing between us. “This is a pleasant sight.”

Behind them, Daniel’s parents approached.

Victoria Rothfield looked composed enough to frighten small countries. Charles Rothfield carried the same quiet authority Daniel did, only older, heavier with expectation.

His gaze moved to me.

“Maria Walker,” he said. “You’ve grown up.”

“That tends to happen,” I said.

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Daniel made a small sound beside me that might have been the beginning of a laugh.

My mother clasped her hands together.

“You two used to spend so much time together when you were younger.”

I opened my mouth.

“That was—”

“Yes,” Charles Rothfield said smoothly. “Daniel never cared much for the other children.”

Daniel looked faintly unimpressed with this public character analysis.

“Father.”

“But Maria,” Charles continued, ignoring him entirely, “was always an exception.”

Oh.

This was going somewhere terrible.

I could feel it.

People nearby had started paying attention in that polite, half-disguised way. A pause in conversation here. A glance there.

My mother’s smile grew brighter.

“It’s so lovely that you’ve reconnected.”

“We ran into each other two minutes ago,” I said.

“Yes,” she replied calmly. “Exactly.”

Daniel glanced sideways at me, something almost amused flickering in his expression.

My phone buzzed in my hand.

Perfect timing.

“Excuse me,” I said quickly. “I should take this.”

And before anyone could object, I slipped away.

---

Noah answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” he said. “Still alive?”

I leaned against the hallway wall outside the ballroom and let out a quiet laugh.

“Barely. My mother is actively trying to auction me off.”

“Should I come rescue you?”

“Please. Bring a ladder.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Charity gala. Wealthy donors. Everyone staring at me like I’m a project.”

“Ah,” Noah said. “The Hunger Games, but with champagne.”

“Exactly.”

He chuckled.

“Are they interrogating you about me again?”

“Constantly.”

“Should I be offended?”

“Only if you suddenly become a billionaire.”

“Give me a few years.”

I smiled despite myself.

Noah had that steady, easy warmth that made everything feel manageable.

“Apparently the host of this whole circus is someone I used to know,” I said.

“Oh yeah?”

“Daniel Rothfield.”

There was a short pause.

“The Daniel Rothfield?”

“Unfortunately.”

“The one who owns half the companies in the business news?”

“That would be the one.”

“Wow,” Noah said. “You run in intense social circles.”

“You have no idea.”

I glanced through the ballroom doors.

Daniel stood across the room now, surrounded by a small group of people. He looked calm. Too calm. Like the attention slid right off him.

“Well,” Noah said, “try not to let them marry you off before I get there.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Call me later?”

“I will.”

I ended the call and slipped my phone back into my bag.

When I stepped into the ballroom again, something had shifted.

The guests around Daniel had drifted away.

Now he stood with his father.

Or rather, his father stood very close to him.

“…you can’t keep avoiding this conversation,” Charles Rothfield was saying.

“We’re at a charity event,” Daniel replied.

“All the more reason to present stability.”

Daniel’s voice stayed level.

“This isn’t the time.”

Charles leaned closer.

“You can’t blame us forever.”

Something passed across Daniel’s face then. Quick. Sharp.

Gone before I could fully place it.

I walked over.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

Daniel glanced at me.

“Define okay.”

Fair.

Behind us, two women nearby had lowered their voices but not enough.

“…Walker and Rothfield…”

“…that would make sense…”

I went very still.

“Oh no,” I muttered.

Daniel followed my gaze.

“What?”

“People think something is happening.”

He looked around.

And yes.

Several people were watching us now with open curiosity.

Maria Walker.

Daniel Rothfield.

Standing together.

Talking.

I grabbed his sleeve.

“Walk with me.”

Daniel raised one eyebrow but followed as I pulled him toward the balcony doors.

The cool night air hit us the second we stepped outside.

I turned to him.

“So apparently we’re dating.”

Daniel blinked once.

“That’s news to me.”

“My mother already looks like she’s planning a wedding.”

“My father would prefer something traditional,” Daniel said.

I groaned.

“This is a nightmare.”

Daniel leaned lightly against the railing, looking frustratingly composed.

“It could be worse,” he said.

“How?”

“They could start asking when we’re getting married.”

I stared at him.

He didn’t even look like he was joking.

Behind the glass doors, my parents were speaking with his.

My mother gestured toward the balcony.

Toward us.

I closed my eyes for a second.

This was very, very bad.