Chapter 2 THE GALA

The restaurant was called Noir, an exclusive establishment hidden behind a black door in a quiet alley.

Damian Blackwood led me inside, revealing crystal chandeliers, white tablecloths, and candlelight reflecting off polished silverware. Every table was empty.

"Did you reserve the entire restaurant?" I asked.

"I prefer privacy for important conversations."

We sat beside floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Sterling Tower glittered in the distance, reminding me of everything I'd lost. I turned away from it.

After dinner, Damian leaned back in his chair.

"You still haven't told me why you want to marry me," I said.

"The Sterling Foundation Gala is three weeks from tonight. Every powerful person in the city will attend, including your ex-husband."

"And?"

"You'll attend as my fiancée."

I nearly choked on my wine.

"You want to parade me in front of Alexander like a trophy?"

"No. I want you to walk into that room as a woman who has risen from the ashes." He leaned forward. "He discarded you, Elena. Imagine his reaction when he sees you standing beside the one man he considers his greatest rival."

"So this is revenge?"

"Call it justice. Unlike your ex-husband, I don't hide my intentions."

I studied him before making my decision.

"Fine. I'll do it."

Damian smiled.

"Then we begin tomorrow."

---

The following three weeks changed everything.

Damian arranged for a personal trainer, a stylist, and a nutritionist to help me regain my confidence. At first, I resented the attention. Then I realized they weren't trying to turn me into someone else.

They were helping me rediscover myself.

For seven years, I had made myself smaller so Alexander could shine brighter. I had abandoned friendships, neglected my dreams, and convinced myself that being a good wife meant always putting him first.

No more.

I trained every morning, ate properly, and began sleeping peacefully. Slowly, the exhaustion I'd carried for years lifted.

Damian visited most evenings. He never crossed my boundaries, but his lingering glances made my heart behave in ways I wasn't ready to understand.

"You're different," he remarked one evening as I laughed at one of his jokes.

"I'm becoming myself again."

"No," he said, studying me. "You're becoming the woman you were always meant to be."

The night before the gala, my stylist, Marco, arrived with a black silk gown. Crystals adorned the bodice, and a daring slit revealed one thigh.

"It's too much," I whispered.

"It's exactly enough," Marco replied. "Mr. Blackwood chose it personally."

---

On the night of the gala, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror. My hair was swept into an elegant chignon, and my gown fit perfectly.

Damian appeared in the doorway, adjusting his cufflinks. He stopped when he saw me.

"Elena."

"Is it too much?"

He approached slowly.

"You're a powerful woman,Elena... You don't just know it yet."

My breath caught.

"Tonight, Alexander will see exactly what he threw away," he continued. "But remember something. You aren't doing this for him. You're doing it for yourself."

I nodded, grateful for the reminder.

A black car carried us to the historic hotel hosting the gala. Crystal fountains, golden ceilings, and enormous chandeliers transformed the ballroom into a glittering spectacle.

The moment we entered, conversations faded.

Heads turned. Whispers spread.

"Isn't that Elena Sterling?"

"She divorced Alexander three weeks ago!"

"Why is she with Damian Blackwood?"

"She looks incredible!"

I kept my chin high, Damian's hand resting firmly on my lower back.

Then I saw Alexander.

He stood across the ballroom, champagne in hand, speaking to a senator. His immaculate suit and composed expression made him look as untouchable as ever.

Until his eyes met mine.

His champagne glass slipped from his fingers and shattered against the marble floor.

He barely noticed.

For the first time in years, I watched his perfect mask crack.

Shock. Confusion. And something that looked painfully like regret.

A reporter approached us.

"Miss Sterling, may we take a photograph of you and Mr. Blackwood?"

I glanced at Damian.

"Of course," he answered with a smile. "My fiancée deserves the attention."

Fiancée.

He had announced it publicly, ensuring everyone, including Alexander, heard him.

Cameras flashed.

Across the room, Alexander's expression darkened as he began walking toward us.

"Here he comes," Damian murmured near my ear. "Remember, you owe him nothing."

"I know."

Alexander stopped directly in front of me.

"Elena."

"Alexander."

My voice was calm, distant, and perfectly polite.

His eyes dropped to the diamond ring on my finger.

"You look..." He swallowed. "You look beautiful. More beautiful than I've ever seen you."

"Thank you."

Damian's arm tightened around my waist.

"She knows," he said casually.

Alexander ignored him, staring at me as though he were seeing me for the first time.

"Stay away from him," he whispered.

I almost laughed.

"That's not your concern anymore."

"That ring-you don't know what you've done."

"Actually, it's the first smart decision I've made in years."

His face paled.

Damian stepped forward. "Is there a problem?"

"Stay out of this, Blackwood."

"She's my fiancée. Anything concerning her is my business."

Alexander's jaw tightened, but his attention returned to me.

I could see the questions in his eyes, the jealousy he was desperately trying to hide.

"Is there anything else, Mr. Sterling?" I asked with a polite smile.

He opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Enjoy your evening," I said, turning away.

For once, I had walked away from Alexander without begging him to stay.

And for once, he was the one left speechless.

---

My heart hammered against my chest as Damian guided me toward another group of guests.

"I need the restroom," I whispered.

He studied my face, immediately understanding.

"Take your time."

Inside the restroom, I gripped the edge of the sink and breathed deeply. My reflection stared back at me, confident and beautiful, but beneath that confidence, my hands were trembling.

I had finally said no to Alexander.

I washed my hands, straightened my gown, and took another steadying breath before leaving.

I hadn't made it far down the corridor when someone caught my wrist.

Alexander.

"Do you hate me so badly that you had to run into the arms of my rival?" he demanded.

I stared at him in disbelief before laughing.

"You really think the world revolves around you, don't you?"

His grip loosened, but he didn't step away.

"You were my wife, Elena."

"And you divorced me. Remember?"

Something painful flickered across his face.

"You don't know Damian the way you think you do."

"And you don't know me anymore."

Our eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Seven years of memories stood between us, but they no longer had the power to make me surrender.

A voice interrupted us.

"What exactly is going on here?"

Damian stood a few feet away, his expression cold.

Alexander released my wrist.

"Nothing that concerns you."

Damian moved beside me. "If Elena is involved, it concerns me."

Before Alexander could respond, another voice cut through the tension.

"Alexander, darling. There you are."

Clara Westbrook approached in a shimmering silver dress, her smile perfectly composed.

Her gaze moved from Alexander to Damian, then settled on me.

For a brief second, the sweetness disappeared from her expression, replaced by something vicious.

Then she smiled again.

"Congratulations on your engagement, Elena," she said softly. "But I wouldn't celebrate just yet."

I frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Clara leaned closer, her eyes glittering.

"Ask your future husband what he's hiding from you."

Damian's expression changed instantly.

And for the first time that evening, I saw something in his eyes that frightened me.

Fear.

What secret was Damian Blackwood hiding-and why did Clara seem to know it?