The proposal
3053 Words
Elena Hart hated being followed.
She noticed the black SUV before she reached the second traffic light.
At first, she told herself it was coincidence.
The city was crowded. Black SUVs were everywhere. Men in expensive suits drove them, wealthy families owned them, and security companies used them constantly.
But when she turned left, the SUV turned left.
When she changed lanes, it followed.
Elena tightened her grip on the steering wheel.
Her heart began to beat faster.
She checked the rearview mirror again.
The SUV was still there.
"You're imagining things," she whispered.
She had spent too many years worrying about things she couldn't control. She refused to become paranoid because of one strange car.
She accelerated.
The SUV accelerated too.
Her stomach dropped.
She reached for her phone.
There was one missed call.
Unknown number.
Then another.
She ignored it.
The phone rang again.
This time, she answered.
"Hello?"
Silence.
"Who is this?"
Nothing.
Then the call ended.
Elena stared at the screen.
Her hands were beginning to shake.
She pulled into a crowded petrol station and parked beneath the brightest lights she could find.
The black SUV drove past.
It didn't stop.
Elena watched until it disappeared.
Only then did she release the breath she had been holding.
Her phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID showed a name.
**Alexander Blackwood.**
She stared at it.
She had met the man only once.
Yet somehow, seeing his name made her feel both safer and more irritated.
She answered.
"How did you get my number?"
Alexander's voice was calm.
"Good evening to you too."
"I asked how you got my number."
"You gave it to the event organizers."
"I didn't give it to you."
"I have people who can find things."
"That isn't reassuring."
"I wasn't trying to reassure you."
Elena leaned back against the driver's seat.
"What do you want?"
"Where are you?"
"Why?"
"Answer the question."
"No."
A pause.
Then Alexander's voice became colder.
"Are you alone?"
"Yes."
"Are you certain?"
She looked around the petrol station.
Several people were nearby.
"Yes."
"Good. Stay there."
"What?"
"I'm sending someone."
"Alexander—"
The line went dead.
Elena stared at her phone.
"Unbelievable."
She didn't know whether to be angry or frightened.
Probably both.
Twenty minutes later, a black Mercedes stopped beside her car.
A man stepped out.
He was tall, broad, and dressed in a dark suit.
He approached her window.
"Miss Hart?"
"Who are you?"
"Marcus Reed. Mr. Blackwood's head of security."
Elena immediately locked her doors.
Marcus sighed.
"He's worried about you."
"I don't know him."
"You spoke with him tonight."
"For five minutes."
"Apparently that was enough."
Elena looked at the SUV that had followed her.
"Was that one of his cars?"
Marcus glanced toward the road.
"No."
"Then who was following me?"
"We don't know yet."
The answer made her blood run cold.
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"No."
At least he was honest.
Marcus looked at her carefully.
"Mr. Blackwood wants you to come somewhere secure."
"I'm not going anywhere with you."
"Miss Hart—"
"No."
She started her engine.
Marcus stepped back.
"Then at least let me arrange an escort."
"I don't need one."
"You might."
She looked at him.
"Why?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Because someone is interested in you."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Then find out."
She drove away before he could answer.
But she didn't see the second black vehicle that joined the road several minutes later.
She also didn't see Alexander sitting inside it.
He had watched the entire exchange from a distance.
His jaw tightened.
Elena was stubborn.
Too stubborn.
She had refused his security.
Refused his help.
Refused almost everything he offered.
It should have irritated him.
Instead, it made him want her more.
Alexander leaned back in the leather seat.
"Follow her."
His driver nodded.
"Without getting too close."
Alexander looked out the window.
He knew he was crossing a line.
He didn't care.
He had spent his entire life taking control whenever a situation threatened to become uncertain.
Elena was now an uncertainty.
And Alexander hated uncertainty.
His phone rang.
"Yes?"
Marcus's voice came through.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"I found the connection."
Alexander's expression hardened.
"Tell me."
"Thomas Hart."
Alexander went silent.
"What about him?"
"He wasn't simply an accountant for your father."
"I know that."
"No, sir. You don't."
Marcus paused.
"He was working directly with Richard Blackwood on a private acquisition."
Alexander sat forward.
"What acquisition?"
"We're still tracing the records."
"How long?"
"By morning."
Alexander looked out at the city.
"Do it tonight."
"Sir—"
"Tonight."
He ended the call.
His eyes returned to the road ahead.
Thomas Hart.
Elena's father.
The name had been buried in his family's history for years.
And now the man's daughter had walked directly into his life.
Alexander didn't believe in coincidences.
Not anymore.
---
Elena arrived home just after midnight.
She lived in a modest apartment on the fourth floor of an old building.
It wasn't impressive.
The elevator often broke.
The hallway lights flickered.
The walls needed repainting.
But it was hers.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside.
The apartment was quiet.
Her mother was asleep.
Elena removed her shoes and walked toward the kitchen.
She poured herself a glass of water.
Her hands were still trembling.
She tried to convince herself everything was fine.
It wasn't.
She had been followed.
A stranger had her phone number.
Alexander Blackwood knew where she was.
And somehow, her father's name had become part of the mystery.
She placed the glass down.
Then she noticed an envelope on the kitchen table.
Her name was written across the front.
**ELENA.**
She froze.
She hadn't seen it before.
She picked it up.
There was no return address.
Her heart began pounding.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Her father.
Thomas Hart.
Standing beside a younger Richard Blackwood.
Elena's breath caught.
She turned the photograph over.
Three words had been written on the back.
**ASK ALEXANDER WHY.**
The photograph slipped from her fingers.
She stared at it on the table.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She didn't answer.
It rang again.
She turned it off.
Someone wanted her to ask Alexander questions.
Someone wanted her to distrust him.
But why?
And how had they gotten into her apartment?
Elena locked the door.
Then she checked every window.
Nothing.
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
She picked up the photograph again.
Her father looked younger in it.
Happy, even.
It was strange seeing him beside Richard Blackwood.
Her father had never spoken about the Blackwoods.
Not once.
Elena had asked him about his work many times when she was a child.
He always changed the subject.
She had assumed he simply didn't want to talk about business.
Now she wondered whether he had been protecting her.
Her phone buzzed.
A message appeared.
**Don't trust him.**
Elena stared at it.
Then another message arrived.
**Especially not Alexander.**
She deleted both.
But she couldn't delete the fear.
---
The following morning, Alexander sat at the head of a long conference table.
Twenty people were seated around him.
Executives.
Lawyers.
Accountants.
Senior directors.
Nobody spoke.
Alexander had a reputation for making meetings uncomfortable.
Today, he was making everyone afraid.
A folder lay open in front of him.
Thomas Hart's name appeared on the first page.
"We're going to discuss the Blackwood acquisition of Hartwell Industries," Alexander said.
A senior executive shifted in his chair.
"That matter was closed years ago."
Alexander looked at him.
"Who said?"
"Your father."
"My father is dead."
The room went silent.
Alexander leaned back.
"That means his decisions can be questioned."
Nobody answered.
He looked toward his chief legal adviser.
"How much money was transferred?"
"We're still verifying the amount."
"Verify faster."
"Of course."
Alexander's eyes moved around the room.
"Who had access to the accounts?"
Several people exchanged glances.
He noticed.
He noticed everything.
"Interesting."
Nobody spoke.
Alexander closed the folder.
"This meeting is over."
The executives began gathering their papers.
"Except you."
One man stopped.
Daniel Blackwood.
Alexander's uncle.
He was older, silver-haired, and outwardly calm.
He smiled faintly.
"Alexander."
"Sit down."
Daniel sat.
The room emptied.
The door closed behind the last executive.
Alexander stared at his uncle.
"You knew Thomas Hart."
Daniel didn't blink.
"Everyone in your father's company knew Thomas."
"You worked with him."
"Yes."
"What happened to him?"
Daniel's expression changed slightly.
"I haven't heard his name in years."
"That wasn't my question."
Daniel leaned back.
"Why are you suddenly interested?"
"Because his daughter is suddenly in my life."
For the first time, Daniel's composure cracked.
Only for a second.
But Alexander saw it.
"Elena Hart?"
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
"You know her?"
"No."
"Then why did you react?"
"I didn't."
"You did."
Daniel smiled.
"You see enemies everywhere."
"Because I have them everywhere."
Daniel stood.
"Be careful, Alexander."
"Is that a threat?"
"No."
Daniel adjusted his jacket.
"A warning."
Alexander watched him leave.
He waited until the door closed.
Then he picked up his phone.
"Marcus."
"Yes, sir."
"Find out what Daniel knows."
---
Elena spent the morning trying to work.
She failed.
The photograph sat inside her handbag.
She had looked at it at least twenty times.
Every time she did, the same question returned.
Why had her father been standing beside Richard Blackwood?
She searched her mother's old belongings.
Nothing.
She checked old emails.
Nothing.
She searched her father's name online.
Almost nothing.
It was as though someone had deliberately erased him from history.
At noon, her phone rang.
Alexander.
She ignored it.
It rang again.
She ignored that too.
A message appeared.
**We need to talk.**
She replied before she could change her mind.
**About what?**
His answer came almost immediately.
**Your father.**
Elena froze.
She typed.
**How do you know about my father?**
The three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally:
**Meet me.**
She stared at the message.
Every instinct told her not to go.
But she needed answers.
She replied.
**Where?**
---
An hour later, Elena entered the Blackwood Tower.
The building seemed to rise endlessly into the sky.
Glass.
Steel.
Marble.
Money.
Everything about it screamed Alexander.
She walked toward the reception desk.
"I'm here to see Alexander Blackwood."
The receptionist looked up.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
The woman immediately looked uncertain.
Before she could respond, a man's voice came from behind Elena.
"She doesn't need one."
Elena turned.
Alexander stood there.
He had removed his jacket and loosened his tie.
His sleeves were rolled to his forearms.
He looked less formal than he had at the gala.
More dangerous.
More attractive.
Elena hated that she noticed.
His gaze moved over her.
Slowly.
She was wearing a cream blouse and fitted black trousers, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail.
Alexander's eyes lingered for a moment too long.
Elena noticed.
"Stop staring."
His mouth curved.
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"I was appreciating."
"There's a difference?"
"Definitely."
She shook her head.
"You're unbelievable."
"And yet you came."
"I came for answers."
"Of course."
He turned.
"Come with me."
She followed him toward the private elevators.
The doors opened.
They stepped inside.
Alexander pressed the highest floor.
The elevator began to rise.
Silence filled the small space.
Elena crossed her arms.
"How much did you know about my father?"
Alexander looked at her reflection in the mirrored wall.
"Enough to know he was important."
"Important to your father?"
"Yes."
"What happened between them?"
"I don't know yet."
She turned.
"You're lying."
Alexander looked directly at her.
"I'm not."
"Then why were you investigating me?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Elena's eyes narrowed.
"You were."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because someone has been watching you."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"Then why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't."
The elevator doors opened.
Elena stepped out.
Alexander followed.
She turned toward him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"You're telling me not to trust you?"
"I'm telling you not to trust anyone."
He opened the door to his office.
"Not even me."
She hesitated.
Then walked inside.
The view from the windows was breathtaking.
The entire city stretched beneath them.
Alexander's office was enormous but strangely empty.
Dark wood.
Black leather.
Minimal decoration.
No family photographs.
No personal belongings.
Except for one framed photograph on a shelf.
Elena walked toward it.
Alexander noticed.
She picked it up.
A younger Alexander stood beside his father.
Richard Blackwood's hand rested on his son's shoulder.
Alexander looked about seventeen.
He was smiling.
It was the first time Elena had seen him look genuinely happy.
"What happened to him?"
"My father?"
"Yes."
"He died."
"I know."
Alexander looked away.
"How?"
"Heart attack."
She studied his face.
"You don't sound like you miss him."
"I don't."
"Why?"
Alexander's jaw tightened.
"Because some men don't deserve to be missed."
Elena looked at him.
There was pain behind his words.
She could see it.
But before she could ask another question, Alexander walked to his desk and opened a drawer.
He removed a file.
He placed it in front of her.
Elena looked down.
Her father's name was written on it.
She opened it.
There were financial documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
Contracts.
And one newspaper clipping.
Her eyes moved across the page.
**BUSINESSMAN THOMAS HART DISAPPEARS AFTER MAJOR BLACKWOOD DEAL.**
Her heart stopped.
"Why didn't I know about this?"
"Because the story was buried."
"By who?"
"My father."
She looked up.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Then why bring me here?"
"Because I believe your father discovered something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
She stared at him.
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
Alexander moved closer.
"There is something else."
"What?"
He reached into the file.
He pulled out a small photograph.
It showed Thomas Hart standing outside a bank.
A man stood beside him.
Elena recognized him immediately.
Daniel Blackwood.
Her eyes widened.
"Your uncle."
Alexander nodded.
"Yes."
"What was he doing with my father?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
Elena placed the photograph on the desk.
"Why do I feel like you're leaving something out?"
"Because I am."
She looked at him sharply.
Alexander didn't smile.
"I don't know how much you're ready to hear."
"I can decide that."
He stepped closer.
"Can you?"
Their eyes met.
The air changed.
Elena hated the way her body reacted to him.
She hated that she noticed the scent of his cologne.
She hated that he was close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body.
Alexander noticed her reaction.
His gaze dropped briefly to her lips.
Then returned to her eyes.
"You should leave," he said quietly.
"Why?"
"Because I want to kiss you."
Elena's breath caught.
Alexander didn't move.
He simply watched her.
"You said you wanted answers."
"I do."
"Then we should keep this professional."
She swallowed.
"That's probably the first sensible thing you've said."
His mouth curved.
"Don't look so disappointed."
"I'm not."
"You're a terrible liar."
She stepped back.
"Tell me what you know about my father."
Alexander's expression became serious again.
"Not enough."
"Then find out."
"I will."
"And leave me out of it."
"I can't promise that."
"Why?"
"Because whoever is looking for answers about your father is now looking at you."
Elena went still.
Alexander walked toward the window.
"You have two choices."
"What choices?"
"You can walk away from this."
"And the second?"
"You can stay close to me."
She stared at him.
"Why would I stay close to you?"
Alexander turned.
"Because I can protect you."
"And what do you get?"
His eyes darkened.
"The truth."
Elena shook her head.
"You don't do anything without getting something in return."
"No."
"What do you want?"
Alexander held her gaze.
"Your trust."
She almost laughed.
"That's impossible."
"Maybe."
He walked toward her.
"But I'm willing to try."
Elena's heart beat faster.
Alexander stopped inches away.
His voice lowered.
"And there's something else I want."
She already knew.
She didn't ask.
He did anyway.
"You."
Silence.
Elena stared at him.
He was serious.
Completely serious.
She should have walked away.
Instead, she remained standing there.
Alexander reached up and gently moved a loose strand of hair away from her face.
His fingers brushed her cheek.
The touch was soft.
Unexpectedly soft.
Elena closed her eyes for half a second.
When she opened them, Alexander was watching her with an expression she couldn't read.
Then he stepped back.
"I won't force you."
She looked surprised.
"Good."
"But I don't give up easily."
"I noticed."
A faint smile appeared.
"Go home."
She turned toward the door.
"Elena."
She stopped.
"Yes?"
Alexander's expression was different now.
Serious.
Almost protective.
"Don't open your door to anyone tonight."
Her stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because someone has been inside your apartment."
She froze.
"What?"
"We found evidence."
She turned slowly.
"How?"
"We have security footage."
Her face went pale.
"Who was it?"
"We don't know yet."
Alexander crossed the room.
"But we're going to find out."
Elena stared at him.
For the first time, she understood that whatever had happened to her father years ago was not truly over.
It had simply been waiting.
And somehow, she had walked directly into the middle of it.
Alexander opened the door for her.
She stepped into the hallway.
"Elena."
She looked back.
His eyes held hers.
"Stay away from Daniel Blackwood."
Her heart skipped.
"Why?"
Alexander's face became unreadable.
"Because I don't trust my uncle."
Neither of them knew that Daniel was standing in a private room across the building, watching security footage of Elena leaving Alexander's office.
He picked up his phone.
"She's with him."
A voice answered.
"Does Alexander know?"
Daniel looked at the screen.
"Not everything."
"And Elena?"
Daniel smiled.
"She knows even less."
He ended the call.
Then he opened an old drawer.
Inside was a faded photograph of Thomas Hart.
Daniel stared at it for a long moment.
Then he whispered,
"Your daughter should never have come looking."
Across the city, Elena stepped into the elevator.
She didn't know she had just become the most important person in a war that had begun long before she was born.
And Alexander Blackwood didn't know that the woman he wanted in his bed might be the same woman capable of bringing his entire empire to its knees.
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