Bound by Desire

Chapter 6: Beneath the Glitter

The pompous ceiling, for whom Sophie had made a sea of glittering garments and tailored tuxedos, seemed to close in around her. She smiled at all the powerful figures around her whom Ethan introduced, as if they were all practiced and within the clause of the great opportunity-taken-after, as with, "Hello," or the master-handlike "Shake my hand."

Ethan remained close by, grounding and, truth—unnervingly. He moved into the crowd, charisma slicing through raucous conversations like a knife. But even while involved with the elite, Sophie's attention to him couldn't avoid noticing how his eyes seemed to cross back toward her.

She tried to concentrate on the names and faces swirling in the air but far-off places kept circling in her mind: Why am I really here?

To begin with, Ethan had made it clear that she was a professional at his soon-bred ramp. It was just different tonight. This was the man who brought her into this world, introduced her to people who lived and breathed power. No CEO does that for his assistant.

"Sophie," murmured Ethan in a voice that was at once low and commanding, cutting across her reverie.

There he stood leaning against the wall with two flutes of champagne, and he offered her the free one. He was looking at her without a change in his expression.

"You're doing well," he said.

"Thank you," she said, her voice calm despite her anxiety. "Though, I must admit, this is not exactly my comfort zone."

Ethan smirked. "Exactly. Comfort zones are for the mediocre."

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "And you? What about you? Do you ever dare step out of yours?"

Now that was a softening of the smirk into something more genuine. "Rarely. But when I am, I make sure no one notices."

But they were interrupted in their intimate conversation by the tall, silver-haired man who had been invited into the room for his immediate presence. He was all patting his shoulder with a wide smile that beamed down his face.

"Ethan! " I was hoping to run into you tonight," the man said.

"Charles," said Ethan with a fluent reply. "I'd like you to meet my assistant, Sophie Greene. Sophie, this is Charles Whitmore, one of the key investors at Blackwood Enterprises."

How very sharp and gleaming his razor eyes turned on Sophie. As if she were a specimen under the microscope, he examined her.

"Ah, the new assistant," said Charles, breaking out into a smile, now thin as paper.Ethan doesn't keep people around long unless they're exceptional. You must be impressive.

Sophie was just about able to summon a polite smile as her inside writhed. "I will do my best to meet Mr. Blackwood's standards."

Charles chuckled and glanced at Ethan. "She's diplomatic. You've trained her well."

Though his face did not change, Sophie caught the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Sophie doesn't need training, Charles. She's capable enough on her own."

Charles held up both hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough. Have a good night, you two."

As Charles disappeared into the crowd, Sophie turned to Ethan. "Is he always that charming?"

Ethan's lips twitched. “Charles always puts results before anything else. Don't take it to heart.”

The night dragged on, and it was like pouring an endless stream of introductions and small talks. Sophie's feet hurt and her face hurt from putting on forced polite smiles. But Sophie knew that the time of breaking had not come—not before Ethan and certainly not before these people.

As the night went on, Sophie excused herself to the balcony for a moment of escape. She found a cool night breeze as she leaned on the barrier, while the party faded into a background noise.

She barely heard the door open behind her until Ethan's voice broke the silence: "Escaping already?"

Sophie found him looking at her, a glass of scotch in one hand.

"Just taking a breather," she said. "This isn't exactly my natural habitat."

Ethan stepped a bit closer, his stare almost forcing. "You've made yourself proud tonight. Better than most would in your position."

"Thank you," Sophie replied, quieter still.

For a moment, they had both fallen silent. Before them, the city stretched out, its lights glittering like a thousand tiny stars.

"You're wondering why I dragged you here," Ethan announced finally, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

Sophie hesitated. "It did cross my mind."

Ethan put his glass on the railing and held her gaze with his own intent. "Sophie, you're much more than just an assistant. You have potential. Not something I'd see in many people. Nights like this one are part of the game if you want to move up in it."

Sophie gasped. "Move up?"

Ethan's gaze softened, and for the first time, she saw something almost human in his eyes: pores of vulnerability. "I do not give out chances lightly, Sophie. But when I do, I expect people I have chosen to rise to the occasion."

Her heart was hammering in her chest.

She didn't know what to feel, whether flattery or just lost.

"Sir, I appreciate your invitation," she said after a moment of silence. "But I am still trying to figure out where I fit into all of this."

Ethan's face hardened a little, as if he didn't like her answer. "You'll figure it out. Just remember this: the higher up the scale, the sharper the knives. That is why choosing trust is a luxury few can afford in this world."

Before Sophie could say anything, Ethan straightened himself and put on his serious face of professionalism again.

"Come," he said. "The night is still young."

As they entered the ballroom again, Sophie felt the weight of Ethan's words settling over her. She had concentrated on surviving each day so fully that she hadn't taken the time to think about what the endgame was.

But one thing was for sure: Ethan Blackwood was no ordinary boss. He was a puzzle—one she was unsure she wanted to solve, but one she couldn't quite ignore.