Chapter 7: The Ghost at the Table
1130 Words
The dining room fell completely quiet.
I froze in my seat, my fingers digging into my leather clutch. *I wondered how long it would take before you involved Hazel.*
Elena’s voice still echoed in my ears, smooth, sharp, and dripping with a history I knew nothing about. I turned my head slowly, looking at Axel.
All the color had drained from his face. His jaw was locked so tight the bone looked ready to snap. He looked genuinely shaken. In fifteen years, I had never seen Axel Blackwell look blindsided by anything.
"Elena," Axel said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, freezing register. "What are you doing here?"
"I’m the lead business consultant for the Reed family’s upcoming merger, remember?" Elena smiled, her manicured hand casually brushing against the shoulder of his suit jacket. "Dominic brought me in to finalize the valuation. I didn’t expect to run into family."
She stared directly at me.
"Family?" Clara blinked, her eyes darting between Elena and Axel. Her face twisted with sudden suspicion. "Wait. Dominic, you didn't tell me your new consultant knew my sister's fiancé."
Fresh sweat broke across Dominic’s forehead. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I... I knew she worked in the same finance circles in New York, Clara. I didn't know it was personal."
"Oh, it's incredibly personal," Elena purred, pulling an empty chair from the next table and smoothly sliding it right between Axel and Dominic. She sat down, smoothing her emerald gown. "Axel and I used to share everything. Portfolios, offices... rings."
My chest tightened. *Rings.*
I looked at Axel, my thoughts tangled together. *Is she his ex-fiancée? The one who broke his heart before he became the cold billionaire? Why didn't he ever tell me her name?*
"That was a lifetime ago, Elena," Axel snapped, he was angry as he reached across the table and firmly grabbed my hand. His palm was burning hot. "And you are currently trespassing on private property."
"Am I?" Elena tilted her head, her gaze dropping to our joined hands, specifically to the diamond on my finger. A small smirk touched her lips. "I’m an invited guest of the groom, Axel. I'm not leaving that easily."
She leaned closer to me, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Nice ring, Hazel. It looks remarkably similar to the one sitting in my safety deposit box in Manhattan. Axel always did have a specific taste in emerald cuts."
Every inch of me went cold. I tried to pull my hand back, but he held on tighter, his eyes practically begging me not to break character in front of the table.
"Is there a problem here?" My stepdad, Richard, chimed in from the head of the table, finally noticing the heavy silence pressing our end of the room. "Dominic, is Ms. Vance joining the main bridal party seating?"
"Yes, sir," Dominic said quickly, clearly eager to shift the attention away from his own face. "Elena is crucial to the Westbrook-Reed contract negotiation tomorrow morning."
"Excellent!" Richard boomed, oblivious. "Let's pour some more wine!"
As the waiters rushed forward to fill the glasses, the chatter around the table resumed, but our corner felt colder than the rest.
I couldn't breathe. The anonymous text message on my phone was screaming in my mind. *Ask your fiancé why Sterling Design Group has been sitting on Blackwell Capital’s internal corporate acquisition watchlist for six months.*
Had Elena put my company on that list to trap Axel? Or had Axel put me on that list himself, using our childhood friendship to slowly buy out my life’s work?
"Hazel," Axel whispered, his breath hitched against my ear. "Don't listen to a single word she says. Look at me."
I turned my head, meeting his gaze. For the first time ever, I didn't know if I was looking at my best friend or a complete stranger. "We need to talk. Upstairs. Right now," I whispered back.
"We will," he promised, his eyes dark with an intense, unreadable anxiety. "Just get through dinner."
Across the table, Dominic was watching us, a strange look replacing his earlier fear. He leaned toward Elena, whispering something, and she nodded, her eyes never leaving my face. Clara, meanwhile, looked furious that her perfect rehearsal dinner was being overshadowed by an uninvited guest.
"So, Hazel," Elena spoke up loudly, cutting through the clinking of silverware. "I hear your interior design startup is expanding. It must be so exhausting trying to secure high-end clients on a budget. If you ever need a capital injection, Blackwell Capital is excellent at... absorption."
I set my fork down, the vertigo swirling behind my eyes, but I forced my chin up. I wasn't going to let this woman tear me down in front of my stepsister and my cheating ex.
"My studio is doing perfectly fine, Ms. Vance," I said, my tone turning as sharp and cold as the Aspen ice outside. "I prefer to build things from the ground up. I’ve never really been interested in things that are... secondhand. Including corporate investors."
Clara choked on her wine. A satisfied smile tugged at Dominic’s mouth.
A dark flash crossed Axel's face, but it was quickly replaced by the mounting tension in his shoulders.
Elena didn't look offended; she simply laughed. "Secondhand? Oh, sweetie. In high society, everything is recycled. Contracts, properties... men. You’d be amazed at what people hide behind a pretty label."
She reached into her small clutch, pulling out a sleek, black burner phone and sliding it across the white tablecloth. It stopped right next to my water glass.
"What is this?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
"A gesture of goodwill," Elena murmured, leaning back with a victorious smile. "Since we’re practically family now. Open the saved media folder, Hazel. There's an audio file from six months ago. It's a recorded board meeting from Blackwell Capital. I think you'll find the voice very familiar."
My hand hovered over the device.
"Hazel, don't touch it," Axel growled, his hand slamming onto the table, making the glasses rattle.
"What's wrong, Axel?" Dominic taunted from across the table, a smug grin returning to his face. "Afraid of a little corporate transparency? I thought you loved clarity."
The table fell dead silent again, everyone staring at the phone sitting between us.
With a trembling finger, I ignored Axel's warning and tapped the screen. The display unlocked instantly, revealing a single audio file. The title read: *Project Sterling.*
I hit play.
A crisp recording echoed softly through our corner of the table. A deep, smooth baritone filled the speakers—a voice I would recognize anywhere in the dark.
It was Axel.
*"The Sterling Design Group is vulnerable,"* Axel’s recorded voice said, cold, calculated, and entirely corporate. *"Wait until she’s desperate. Then we move."*
- Writer
