Chapter 7: The Ghost at the Gala

The champagne flute shattered against the marble floor, but I barely heard it over the roar of blood in my ears. Marcus Vale—my ex, the man who had broken me two years ago—stood in the entrance of the charity gala, his thousand-watt smile firmly in place as if he hadn't just walked into the most important night of my professional life.

"Lila." His voice cut through the murmur of the crowd like a knife I'd long buried. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

Alexander's hand tightened on my waist, a possessive brand searing through the silk of my emerald gown. I could feel the tension coiling through his muscles, the barely contained storm beneath his designer tuxedo. "You have exactly thirty seconds to explain why you're interrupting my fiancée's evening before I have security escort you out."

My fiancée. The words sent a shockwave through my chest, even as I knew they were part of the performance. Part of the contract. Part of the elaborate lie we were weaving to save his company from the scandal that threatened to consume us both.

Marcus's eyes flickered to Alexander, then back to me, and I watched the smug confidence drain from his face as he took in the sight of us together. "Fiancée? Lila, don't be ridiculous. You and I both know you can't love him. You loved me."

"Don't." The word escaped me before I could stop it, sharp and bitter. "You don't get to say that word to me. Not after what you did."

The gala had gone quiet, a sea of curious faces turning toward us like sharks scenting blood. I could see the whispers starting, the phones rising to capture the drama. This was worse than the press conference. This was personal. This was my past literally crashing into my present at the worst possible moment.

Alexander stepped forward, positioning himself between me and Marcus with a grace that belied the fury radiating from him. "I'm going to give you one more chance to leave before I do something we'll both regret."

Marcus laughed, and the sound was hollow, rehearsed. "What are you going to do, Sinclair? Buy her some more? That's all this is, isn't it? A business arrangement." He turned to me, his eyes pleading. "Lila, I know everything. I know about the contract. I know you're not really engaged. Don't let him use you like this."

The world tilted. How could he know? We had been so careful. The contract was sealed, the NDA ironclad. Unless...

"Did you leak the photos?" Alexander's voice was ice. "The ones that started this whole mess?"

Marcus's smile confirmed it before he spoke. "I needed to get her attention somehow. You were with her all the time, Alexander. I couldn't exactly just call her and ask her to dinner, could I?"

Something inside me snapped. "You ruined my life to get my attention? You destroyed my reputation, cost me my job, and now you're standing here acting like that was some romantic gesture?"

"For us, Lila. I did it for us." Marcus reached for my hand, and I flinched back as if burned. "I made a mistake two years ago. I know that. But I've changed. I've been clean for six months now, and I've been looking for you ever since. When I saw you at that press conference, looking so beautiful in that red dress, I knew I had to do something."

"Get. Out." Alexander's voice was low, deadly. "Security!"

Two men in black suits materialized, but Marcus held up his hands. "I'm going. But Lila, think about what you're doing. You're playing house with a man who sees you as nothing more than a line item in his quarterly report. You deserve better than that."

I should have stayed silent. I should have let security handle it. But the words clawed their way out of me, raw and unfiltered. "Better than you? Marcus, you are the reason I don't trust love anymore. You are the reason I buried myself in work until I had nothing else. And now you want to waltz back into my life and claim you've changed?" I laughed, bitter and broken. "You haven't changed. You're the same man who threw me away the moment things got difficult. At least Alexander has been honest about our arrangement."

The air crackled with tension. Marcus's face contorted with anger, and for a moment, I saw the man I used to know—the one who could flip from charming to cruel in a heartbeat.

"This is a mistake, Lila. You'll regret this."

"He's right about one thing." Alexander's voice rang out, and I felt his arm snake around my waist again, pulling me flush against his side. "This is an arrangement. But what he doesn't understand is that contracts can grow into something more." He turned to face me, his storm-gray eyes burning with an intensity I'd never seen before. "Lila, I didn't plan this. I didn't expect it. But somewhere between the fake kisses and forced intimacy, you became the only thing I look forward to. The only face I want to see across the dinner table. The only person I trust."

My heart stopped. "Alexander..."

"I know we have a contract," he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. "But I'm tearing it up. Right here. Right now. I'm done pretending."

"Wait, what?" Marcus's voice was distant, irrelevant.

Alexander reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded document—our contract. The words blurred before my eyes as he ripped it in half, then in half again, letting the pieces flutter to the marble floor.

"You're free, Lila. You always were. But I'm hoping—" he swallowed hard, vulnerability flickering across his features for the first time since I'd met him. "I'm hoping you'll choose to stay. Not because you have to. Because you want to."

The silence was deafening. I could feel every eye in the room on us, could hear the cameras clicking, but all I could see was Alexander—this man who had been my enemy, my partner, my lifeline—laying everything bare in front of the world.

And then I saw it. Over his shoulder, Marcus's lips curved into a satisfied smile as he pulled out his phone, showing me the screen. It was a photo. Of my mother. In a hospital bed.

My blood ran cold.

"Choose wisely, Lila," Marcus called out, retreating toward the exit. "I'll be in touch."

Alexander turned, but Marcus was already gone, swallowed by the crowd. My legs gave out, and I would have crumpled to the floor if Alexander hadn't caught me.

"Lila? Lila, what is it?"

I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Because in that moment, I realized this wasn't about getting me back. This was about destroying me. And he had the one weapon I could never fight against.

My mother.