Three
1197 Words
Chapter 3 — Across the Ballroom
Victoria
At seven fifty-eight, I was standing in front of my bedroom mirror wondering why I had agreed to this.
The woman staring back at me looked nothing like the little girl buried somewhere inside my memories.
My long, dark-brown hair fell in soft waves over my shoulders. I wore a fitted midnight-black gown with a simple neckline and a slit along one side. Diamond earrings caught the light whenever I moved, while a delicate bracelet rested against my wrist.
Elegant.
Controlled.
Untouchable.
Exactly how I liked it.
My phone rang.
“Don't tell me you're still getting dressed.”
I answered.
“I'm ready.”
Jamal gasped dramatically.
“You're actually ready before me?”
“You said seven.”
“I said seven-thirty.”
“You said seven.”
“Details.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Where are you?”
“Outside.”
I looked through the window.
A sleek black car was waiting by the entrance.
“I'm coming.”
When I reached the lobby, Jamal stepped out of the car wearing a silver suit that seemed designed specifically to attract attention.
I stared at him.
“No.”
He looked down at himself.
“What?”
“You look like a disco ball.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn't a compliment.”
“I accepted it as one.”
I shook my head, but a smile escaped me.
Jamal noticed immediately.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“My Victoria.”
The smile disappeared.
He knew better than anyone how difficult it was for me to let my guard down.
He didn't push.
Instead, he offered his arm.
“Come on, Ice Queen.”
I slipped my arm through his.
“Two hours.”
“We'll see.”
The gala was being held at one of Manhattan's most exclusive hotels.
Crystal chandeliers illuminated the ballroom. Soft music drifted through the room while businessmen, politicians, celebrities, and wealthy investors moved between tables.
Everyone was watching everyone.
I knew how these events worked.
A smile could hide an ambition.
A handshake could conceal a threat.
A compliment could be the beginning of a business deal.
Jamal leaned toward me.
“Relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You're holding your glass like you're preparing to throw it.”
I loosened my fingers.
“Better?”
“Marginally.”
I ignored him.
Then something changed.
I felt it before I understood it.
Someone was watching me.
I slowly turned.
And saw him.
A man stood near the entrance with another man beside him.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dark hair.
Black tuxedo.
There was nothing flashy about him, yet somehow he commanded more attention than everyone around him.
His expression was calm.
Almost unreadable.
But his eyes—
His eyes were fixed on me.
I couldn't explain the strange sensation that moved through my chest.
I had never seen him before.
At least, I didn't think I had.
“Victoria?”
Jamal followed my gaze.
“Oh.”
I glanced at him.
“What?”
“That man has been staring at you for approximately thirty seconds.”
“I noticed.”
“And you're staring back.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
Before I could respond, the man began walking toward us.
Every step was measured.
Confident.
He stopped a few feet away.
“Good evening.”
His voice was deep, calm, carrying the unmistakable warmth of an Italian accent.
“Good evening.”
His gaze remained on me.
Not rudely.
Not arrogantly.
Almost as though he was trying to memorize my face.
“My name is Lorenzo Valentieri.”
I knew the name.
Everyone in international business knew it.
Lorenzo Valentieri.
Italian business magnate.
Thirty-one years old.
Owner of one of Europe's most powerful private investment groups.
Multibillionaire.
And, according to every business magazine I'd ever read, nearly impossible to impress.
“Victoria Hayes.”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“I know.”
Something about those words made my stomach tighten.
Jamal stepped forward.
“And I'm Jamal Carter.”
Lorenzo shook his hand.
“Piacere.”
Jamal's eyes brightened.
“Ah. Italian.”
“Very.”
I glanced at Lorenzo.
“You're here for the investment summit?”
“Yes.”
“Our companies have been discussing a possible partnership.”
“They have.”
His eyes returned to mine.
“But business isn't the only reason I wanted to come tonight.”
I frowned.
“What other reason?”
For the first time, something almost vulnerable appeared in his eyes.
“Perhaps I will tell you.”
I studied him.
There was something about him.
Something familiar.
But every time I tried to grasp it, it slipped away.
Lorenzo glanced toward the ballroom.
“Would you like a drink?”
“I already have one.”
He smiled.
“I see.”
Jamal suddenly cleared his throat.
“I'll give you two a moment.”
I turned sharply.
“Jamal.”
He was already walking away.
Traitor.
Lorenzo laughed quietly.
The sound made something inside me shift.
“You have a good friend.”
“The best.”
“I can see that.”
A silence settled between us.
Strangely, it wasn't uncomfortable.
That was rare for me.
Most people exhausted me.
Lorenzo didn't.
He simply stood there, looking at me as if there was a question in his mind he was afraid to ask.
Finally, he said softly:
“Your eyes haven't changed.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
He seemed to realize he'd said too much.
“Nothing.”
“No. What did you mean?”
He smiled.
“Perhaps another time.”
Then he stepped away.
I watched him disappear into the crowd.
Something was wrong.
I knew it.
I just didn't know what.
Lorenzo
She didn't remember me.
The realization hurt more than I expected.
But I couldn't blame her.
She had been a child.
A little girl in America with a stubborn streak and cheeks permanently full of cookies.
I had been only a boy.
But I remembered.
I remembered the way she laughed.
The way she got angry whenever I called her Hamster.
The promise we made before our families separated.
Don't forget me.
I hadn't.
Not once.
Across the ballroom, Victoria was speaking with Jamal.
She looked beautiful.
But beneath the confident CEO was the same girl I'd known all those years ago.
I could see it.
The guarded eyes.
The careful movements.
The loneliness she tried so hard to hide.
I touched the glass in my hand.
Soon.
I wouldn't make her wait much longer.
She deserved to know who I was.
But before I could approach her again, my phone vibrated.
One message.
My expression changed as I read it.
We need to talk. Someone has been asking questions about Victoria Hayes.
I looked across the ballroom.
Victoria was smiling at something Jamal had said.
She had no idea.
Someone was watching her.
And suddenly, finding my childhood friend wasn't the only reason I needed to stay close to her.
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