Chapter 4 - THE PREPARATION
When Ethan returned that night,
I was waiting for him with the invitation in my hand.
He looked at it,
then at the emerald dress draped over the sofa.
He didn't look surprised.
"You found it,"
he said,
setting his keys on the counter.
"How,
Ethan?"
I asked,
standing up.
"How did a security guard get an invitation to the Apex Gala?"
"And how did you afford this dress?"
He sighed,
running a hand through his dark hair.
"I have connections,
Madison,"
he said,
his voice low.
"I told you I work for a powerful family."
"They wanted to thank me for my service."
"This is too much for a thank-you gift,"
I argued.
"This is a statement."
He walked over to me,
standing so close I could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You spent your life being told you were less than,"
he said,
tilting my chin up.
"I want the world to see you for what you really are."
"And what is that?"
I whispered.
"The most beautiful woman in the room,"
he replied,
his eyes darkening with an emotion I couldn't name.
"The only woman who matters."
For a moment,
the small apartment vanished,
and it was just us,
bound by a secret I was beginning to crave.
"We have to practice,"
he said,
breaking the spell.
"Practice what?"
"The way you walk,"
he said.
"The way you hold your head."
"The way you look at people who think they are better than you."
For the next three days,
Ethan transformed the living room into a ballroom.
He taught me how to navigate a room full of sharks.
He taught me how to speak with a confidence I didn't feel.
He taught me how to use my silence as a weapon.
"Don't look at their jewelry,"
he told me.
"Look at their eyes."
"Most of them are terrified of being found out."
"Found out as what?"
"As frauds,"
he said,
a bitter edge to his voice.
"People who have money but no soul."
I realized then that Ethan hated the elite as much as I did.
Or perhaps,
he knew them better than anyone.
On the night of the gala,
he disappeared for two hours.
When he returned,
he wasn't wearing his gray suit.
He was wearing a custom-tailored tuxedo that fit him like a second skin.
He looked dangerous.
He looked powerful.
He looked like the man the laughter had tried to hide.
"Ready?"
he asked,
holding out his hand.
I took it,
my fingers steady for the first time.
"Ready."
We didn't take the bicycle.
A black sedan was waiting at the curb,
its windows tinted dark.
The driver stepped out and bowed deeply as Ethan approached.
"Good evening,
Sir,"
the driver said.
Ethan just nodded and opened the door for me.
May you like
As we drove away from the brick building,
I knew that the Madison who had arrived there on the back of a bike was gone.
