THE CHARITY GALA
1286 Words
CHAPTER TWO
Sophia hadn’t planned on attending.
She told herself she wouldn’t.
But Manhattan had a way of forcing decisions—especially when your new employer owned half the skyline.
The Calloway Foundation Annual Charity Gala wasn’t just an event.
It was the event.
Politicians. Investors. Billionaires. Media giants.
And tonight, Sophia Bennett would be walking straight into the lion’s den.
She adjusted the deep emerald silk gown she had rented for the evening. It wasn’t designer. It wasn’t couture.
But it fit her perfectly.
Elegant. Refined. Strong.
She looked at herself one last time in the mirror of her small Brooklyn apartment.
“You’re not the girl he left,” she whispered.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She answered cautiously. “Hello?”
“I’m outside.”
Her breath stilled.
Ethan.
“I didn’t ask for a ride.”
“You work for me. You represent my company.”
His tone was calm. Controlled.
Commanding.
“I can get there myself.”
“I don’t repeat myself, Sophia.”
The line went dead.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Five years later… and he still knew how to unsettle her.
Outside, a sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom waited at the curb.
Of course.
The driver opened the back door.
And there he was.
Ethan Calloway.
Black tuxedo. Tailored to perfection. Crisp white shirt. No tie yet—just slightly undone at the collar.
Like temptation wrapped in power.
His storm-gray eyes swept over her slowly.
And for the first time since she walked back into his life…
He looked affected.
The silence stretched between them.
“You clean up well,” he said quietly.
She stepped inside, refusing to react. “This is professional.”
“Of course it is.”
But his gaze lingered.
The car began moving toward Midtown Manhattan.
The city lights blurred past the tinted windows.
“You didn’t have to come,” he said after a moment.
“You made it clear I did.”
A faint smirk touched his lips.
“You’ve changed.”
“So have you.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“I had to.”
The tone carried weight.
Unspoken history.
Pain neither of them had addressed.
She looked away first.
The Grand Aurora Hotel shimmered with golden lights and flashing cameras.
Reporters lined the red carpet.
The moment the Rolls-Royce stopped, flashes exploded.
Sophia’s pulse spiked.
“Relax,” Ethan murmured.
The driver opened the door.
Ethan stepped out first.
And the crowd reacted instantly.
“Mr. Calloway!”
“Ethan! Over here!”
“Who’s your date tonight?!”
Date.
Sophia stepped out slowly.
The cameras froze for half a second.
Then intensified.
She felt Ethan’s hand at the small of her back.
Steady.
Possessive.
Protective.
“Smile,” he said under his breath.
“I’m not your accessory.”
His fingers pressed slightly firmer against her waist.
“Tonight, you are.”
The statement should have angered her.
Instead, her pulse betrayed her.
They walked the carpet together.
Flash after flash.
And then—
Sophia saw her.
Olivia Harrington.
Standing at the top of the marble staircase.
Blonde. Impeccable. Wrapped in silver couture that probably cost more than Sophia’s yearly rent.
Olivia didn’t look surprised.
She looked… amused.
The kind of smile a queen gives a challenger.
“Ethan,” Olivia greeted smoothly as they approached.
She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
Possessive.
Calculated.
Her eyes slid to Sophia.
“And you must be…?”
“Sophia Bennett,” she answered evenly.
“Ah,” Olivia said softly. “The consultant.”
The pause was intentional.
Diminishing.
“Yes,” Sophia replied. “The one increasing your fiancé’s publishing revenue by eighteen percent next quarter.”
Olivia’s smile faltered—just slightly.
Ethan’s lips twitched faintly.
Score one.
Inside the ballroom, crystal chandeliers bathed everything in warm gold light.
A live orchestra played softly.
Waiters floated through the crowd with champagne trays.
Sophia felt eyes on her everywhere.
Whispers.
Speculation.
“Who is she?”
“She came with Calloway.”
“I thought he was engaged.”
She kept her posture straight.
Ethan leaned closer.
“Stay near me.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re already talking.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
Before she could respond, the host announced Ethan to the stage.
He walked up confidently.
Power in every step.
Sophia watched him command the room effortlessly.
This was his world.
He spoke about philanthropy. About children’s education. About expanding opportunity.
His voice was smooth. Controlled.
Magnetic.
The crowd applauded.
And then—
A reporter’s voice cut through the room.
“Mr. Calloway! Who is the woman you arrived with tonight?”
The silence was immediate.
Sophia’s stomach tightened.
Olivia’s gaze sharpened.
Ethan looked directly at Sophia.
Then back at the crowd.
“She is someone important to me.”
The words hit like a pulse.
Murmurs erupted.
Olivia’s smile disappeared completely.
Sophia’s breath caught.
Important?
What game was he playing?
Another voice called out:
“Are you and Miss Harrington still engaged?”
The tension in the room turned electric.
Ethan descended from the stage slowly.
He stopped beside Sophia.
Took her hand.
And held it openly.
Flash.
Flash.
Flash.
Olivia stepped forward, composure cracking just slightly.
“Ethan,” she warned softly.
He didn’t look at her.
Instead, his thumb brushed lightly against Sophia’s knuckles.
And he said the words that would change everything:
“My personal life will be clarified soon.”
The room exploded in whispers.
Sophia’s heart pounded violently.
Clarified?
What did that mean?
Was he ending the engagement?
Using her?
Protecting her?
Olivia’s eyes burned with cold fury.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
Later, on the terrace overlooking the city skyline, Sophia finally pulled her hand away.
“What was that?” she demanded.
He stood calmly, adjusting his cufflinks.
“Damage control.”
“For who?”
“For both of us.”
She stared at him.
“You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“So are you.”
Her breath hitched.
“What does that mean?”
He stepped closer.
Close enough that the city noise faded.
“I know the timeline, Sophia.”
Ice slid down her spine.
“What timeline?”
“Four years ago.”
Her heart slammed.
“You said you lost the baby.”
She forced her voice steady. “I did.”
His gaze darkened.
“Then why does your son have my eyes?”
The world tilted.
“You’ve never seen him.”
“I saw him.”
Her blood ran cold.
“When?” she whispered.
He leaned down slightly, his voice low and intense.
“Yesterday. Outside your apartment.”
Her pulse roared in her ears.
“You followed me?”
“I observe what belongs to me.”
“He does not belong to you.”
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“If he’s mine… he does.”
The possessiveness in his tone sent heat and fear spiraling through her simultaneously.
“You don’t get to claim him,” she said fiercely. “You weren’t there.”
His jaw tightened.
“I was kept away.”
The statement carried accusation.
Pain.
Anger.
Before she could respond, Olivia’s voice echoed from behind them.
“This conversation seems serious.”
They both turned.
Olivia stood in the doorway, composed once more.
But her eyes were lethal.
And she had heard enough.
Sophia suddenly realized something.
This wasn’t just about love anymore.
It was about power.
Reputation.
Legacy.
And a child caught in the middle.
Ethan stepped slightly in front of Sophia.
A subtle, protective move.
Olivia noticed.
And smiled.
“Oh,” she said softly. “This just became interesting.”
- Writer
