HIS SWEETEST VENGEANCE

Isla Sullivan stood in the hotel ballroom, holding a champagne glass. The champagne flute felt extremely thin in her fingers. She looked calm on the outside, but inside she was nervous. Her event planning business was struggling. Tonight's event had to be perfect. She put on a smile and scanned the room. She looked for problems, a spilled drink, a guest who needed help. At thirty-two, she was no longer the queen of her highschool. Now, she was just trying to survive. Then she saw him! Across the crowded room, a man stood watching her. He was young, probably in his mid-twenties, but he carried himself like someone much older. The black suit he was wearing was a work of art, fitting him perfectly. His dark eyes held hers, and she couldn't look away. He started walking towards her, and people moved aside even without him uttering a word. Isla’s heart hammered against her ribs. She stood up straighter, adjusting her wine coloured silk dress, trying to look confident. “Isla Sullivan” he called as he reached her. His voice was a low baritone, smooth as butter. He knew her name. Of course he did! She was the planner. But the way he said it felt…personal. “And you are?” She asked, managing to keep her tone light and professional. A smile broke across his face, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “I'm Enzo Rossi”. The name meant nothing to her. It should have. She would realize that later. In that moment, it was just a name belonging to a man who looked at her as if he could see the cracks in her foundation. “You've done an exceptional job tonight, Ms Sullivan”, he said, his gaze sweeping the room before resting back on her, weighing, and assessing. “Thank you”, she muttered. “It's my job to make sure everything goes well”. “Some plans don't go well”, he said, stepping closer. “They can be easily broken”. Her breath hitched. He was too close. His presence was quite intoxicating, yet she didn't step back. “Maybe some plans should be broken”, she replied, totally surprising herself with the boldness. The highschool version of herself, the one who never backed down, stirred within her. His dark eyes gleamed with triumph. “I find myself in need of an event planner for a more…private gathering. I'd like to discuss it. Over dinner.” It clearly wasn't a question. It was more like a command, spoken softly. Every part of her mind told her to say no. This man was trouble. The kind of trouble that could sink her completely, or lift her higher than she'd ever been. She looked into his eyes and made her choice. After all, her business was failing, and he represented everything she needed…money, connections, power. “Yes”, she whispered. Enzo Rossi gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Tomorrow. Eight O’clock. I'll send a car”. Then he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd. Isla stood alone, her hand shaking slightly. She had just agreed to dinner with a stranger who felt like both a dream and a nightmare. Later, as the event came to a slow end and guests began to leave, Isla couldn't stop thinking about him. There was something in his eyes—a shadow, a secret—that stayed with her. She packed her folders and thanked the hotel staff, but her mind was somewhere else, lost in the memory of his voice and the way he kept looking at her as if she was the only person in the room. When she got back to her small apartment, the silence was heavier than usual. She dropped her keys on the kitchen counter and replayed the moment she noticed his eyes on her and when he approached her. “I'll send a car”, the words echoed in her mind. Not a question, not a suggestion either. A statement. A plan already in motion. She kept thinking about what she had just agreed to. A small nervous thrill ran through her. Her best friend, Sophia, called just as Isla was changing into her pyjamas. “How was the gala? Any rich, handsome man try to sweep you off your feet?” She asked in her usual cheerful tone. Isla almost didn't tell her, but words spilled out. “Actually, yes. His name is Enzo Rossi”. The line went quiet. “The Rossi family…Isla, please be careful. I've heard crazy things. People don't say no to him.” After she hung up, Isla stood by the window, looking down at the quiet street. The moon seemed brighter. The universe was probably smiling at her. She thought about the way Enzo moved, a majestic movement. Smooth, confident, like a predator who knew exactly where he was going. Part of her was scared. But the part of her that was tired of being afraid and alone, felt alive for the first time in years. Meanwhile, in a tall glass building across the city, Enzo Rossi stood by his own window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. In his other hand, he held an old, slightly faded photo from a highschool yearbook. It showed a younger Isla, her smile proud and her eyes fearless. He placed the photo carefully on his desk, wearing an unreadable expression. She didn't recognize him, not yet, but she would. Every dinner, every moment they would share was all part of a plan he had waited years to set in motion. Revenge was supposed to be simple. But as he stood still in the dark, he wondered if he was still seeking only vengeance…or if his heart had started seeking something else. Isla Sullivan didn't know she had just said yes to the first act of his beautifully crafted vengeance!