Chapter 3

Crystal chandeliers lit the Grand Ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria like daylight as a string quartet played near the stage. Claire stood hidden in the deep shadows behind the heavy velvet side curtains, her fingers moving rapidly across her tablet to map out Donovan's networking route.

Out on the floor, Donovan wore a bespoke Tom Ford suit with Supermodel Gia Sterling clinging to his arm, flashing a fake smile at a group of Wall Street executives. Claire noticed Donovan's gaze flick toward the curtain and tapped her earpiece.

"Two o'clock, boss. The city councilman is heading your way. Keep smiling."

Donovan let out a low snort in the crowd, his voice coming through her hidden earpiece.

"Don't use that dog-training tone with me, Claire. I'm your boss."

Claire switched off her mic without a word and stepped deeper behind the velvet drape. Her only personal goal tonight was to stay invisible to anyone from her past.

Suddenly, a stir rippled through the main entrance of the ballroom. The chattering crowd parted automatically toward both sides, clearing a wide path down the center.

Claire looked up through the narrow gap in the curtain. Her breath caught in her throat, her lungs seizing up instantly.

Alexander walked in wearing a pitch-black custom tuxedo, his sharp jawline set and his dark eyes radiating cold authority. Clinging tightly to his left arm in a bright crimson evening gown was Everlee, beaming like she already owned the room.

Claire's fingers clamped down on the aluminum edge of her tablet until her palm throbbed. The memory of the freezing general ward and the divorce papers hit her all over again. She spun on her heel, turning her back to the ballroom, and walked quickly toward the dim service corridor reserved for hotel staff.

Just as she turned, Alexander stopped dead in the middle of the red carpet. His sharp gaze cut through the crowd and locked onto the swaying edge of the velvet curtain. He had only caught a glimpse of light blonde hair and a familiar slender back, yet his heart gave a violent, erratic thud against his ribs.

Without a word, Alexander pulled his arm out of Everlee's grip and strode rapidly toward the side stage, ignoring the startled whispers around him. Everlee stumbled in her high heels, her bright smile cracking as she stared at his retreating back.

Inside the staff hallway, Claire heard heavy, familiar footsteps closing in fast behind her. She knew the exact rhythm of those leather soles all too well. Breaking into a near run, she darted down the narrow passage, grabbed the handle of a housekeeping linen room, slipped inside, and clicked the deadbolt shut.

She pressed her back flat against the wooden door, holding her breath so hard her chest ached.

Outside, the footsteps stopped right in front of the linen room. The air in the corridor seemed to drop ten degrees. Alexander stood staring at the closed door, slowly raising his right hand until his long fingers wrapped around the cold metal lever.

Separated by a single inch of wood, Claire caught the distinct scent of cedarwood and dark tobacco drifting through the gap beneath the door. Her pulse hammered wildly against her eardrums.

The metal handle pressed downward with a soft click. Claire dug her fingernails into the painted wood of the door panel, her stomach dropping.

"Boss! The Governor is waiting for you in the VIP lounge. The private meeting is starting right now."

The urgent voice of Clem Fuentes, Alexander's personal assistant, echoed from the end of the hall.

Outside the door, the veins on the back of Alexander's hand bulged as he gripped the jammed lever. He stared at the wood for ten agonizing seconds before slowly releasing his grip, his voice terrifyingly hoarse.

"Got it."

Listening to the heavy footsteps fade away down the corridor, Claire slid down the door until she was sitting on the tile floor. Cold sweat soaked the back of her silk blouse. She squeezed her eyes shut and silently repeated her son's name in her head three times. For Leo. For Leo. For Leo.

When she left through the hospital’s back door three years ago, she huddled alone at a bus stop on a street corner in the pouring rain, trembling as she saw the two clear red lines on the pregnancy test she had bought from a pharmacy. Her fingers brushed coldly over her still faintly aching lower abdomen, and she nearly broke down on the spot—that tiny life was the only hope she could carry away from the quagmire of the Valenzuela family. Alexander’s cold face, Everlee’s screams, her mother-in-law Edmonia’s slap… all the images came flooding back like a tide.

She wiped away her tears and decided to cut off all ties, raise the child alone, and never let anyone from her past find them.

Three minutes later, Claire stood up, smoothed down her suit jacket, and unlocked the door, her blue eyes completely cold once more. Checking her watch, she saw Donovan's speech was about to wrap up. She needed to get his warm water ready.

Claire walked down the service passage, pushed through a heavy soundproof door, and stepped into the bustling catering prep area. She walked over to a long stainless-steel table lined with silver trays and reached for a glass pitcher.

Behind her, a shrill, malicious female voice cut through the kitchen noise.

"Oh my God, look who it is! Isn't this the former Mrs. Valenzuela who got kicked to the curb?"