The Blackstone Charity Gala was a spectacle of power and polish. Held at the Empire Regent Hotel's rooftop ballroom, it was the kind of event where the wealthy came to show off their morality, and the truly dangerous came to sharpen their knives behind crystal flutes of champagne.
Elina had no invitation.
But that had never stopped her before.
"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Harper asked as she zipped Elina into a midnight-blue backless gown that fit her like scandal and starlight. "Because walking into a room full of billionaires who want to erase your existence feels like asking to be set on fire."
Elina's lips curved slightly. "Sometimes you have to get close enough to burn them first."
They had acquired a stolen invite—courtesy of Harper's hacking and a disgruntled ex-employee of Blackstone—and used it to plant Elina under the alias of "Isla Deveraux," a European venture capitalist with a flair for sustainable AI.
She even practiced the accent. Just in case.
The moment she stepped into the ballroom, the hum of conversation dipped ever so slightly. A hundred heads turned her way.
Good.
Let them look.
Her hair was swept up in soft waves, a single silver chain at her throat. She walked slowly, deliberately, scanning the room for familiar threats.
There—by the champagne tower—stood Donovan Vrex, Aidan's right-hand man and a creature carved from corporate ambition. Cold. Watchful. He didn't recognize her immediately.
Another win.
She made her way toward the far end of the room, where a quiet auction table displayed items meant to fund neurological research. Irony.
"Elina."
His voice again—deep, intimate, impossible to forget.
She didn't turn right away.
Let him wait.
Then she did—slowly.
Aidan wore a classic black tuxedo, his tie slightly loosened as if to hint at the man beneath the CEO. He looked sinfully good, like temptation incarnate, but his eyes… they were wary. Wounded. Wanting.
"You clean up well," she said.
"You make the stars look underdressed," he replied without hesitation.
She hated the way that line made her stomach flip.
"This was a bold move," he added, lowering his voice. "Coming here."
"I'm full of surprises."
Aidan offered his arm. "Walk with me?"
Every instinct screamed no. But she slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow anyway.
They moved past guests who whispered behind wine glasses. The air hummed with barely veiled curiosity. No one knew who she was… yet. But rumors spread faster than viruses in these circles.
Aidan led her to a quieter balcony. The cityscape stretched around them—opulent, infinite.
"I assume you received the flash drive?" he asked.
She nodded. "Harper and I confirmed its contents. It's damning. Enough to bury half your board."
"Good," he said. "Because they're planning to bury you first."
"How poetic," she said. "Do they know you gave me the files?"
Aidan hesitated. "Not yet."
"You're gambling with your reputation."
"I already lost the only thing that mattered," he said.
Her breath hitched.
"Don't do that," she said quietly. "Don't pretend this is about love when it's about guilt."
"It's both."
She turned toward the skyline, her voice cooler now. "You say you care. But where was this care when they ousted me, when they dragged my name through dirt while you sat on the board?"
"I was compromised, Elina. If I had spoken then, it would've exposed more than just corruption—it would've brought down my mother's project too."
"And now you want me to believe the risk is worth it?"
He stepped closer, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"I want you to believe I never stopped believing in you."
The silence stretched like a wire between them—fragile, charged.
She turned, her eyes searching his.
"Aidan… if I help you take them down, what happens after?"
His voice was rough. "Then we rebuild. On our own terms."
Elina didn't say yes. But she didn't walk away.
—
Inside, the gala reached its peak as the emcee took the stage. The crowd gathered, champagne flutes raised, masks of civility perfectly in place.
Elina and Aidan returned, blending in just as the charity auction began.
"One final surprise tonight," the emcee announced. "A rare, custom-designed neural core prototype—donated anonymously. Designed to enhance synaptic function in patients with degenerative memory conditions."
Elina's blood turned cold.
That was her design.
But she hadn't donated it.
A screen flashed with the prototype specs—almost identical to her stolen code. The audience clapped. Several tech titans placed starting bids.
"Elina," Aidan murmured, jaw clenched. "I didn't authorize this."
She turned to him. "Then who did?"
"Donovan," he guessed. "He has access to the prototype labs. If he uploaded the specs under a shell name…"
Her heart pounded. This wasn't just corporate theft. This was war.
She reached for Harper through their secure line.
> ELINA: Pull the plug on the gala servers. Now.
HARPER: You sure?
ELINA: Do it.
A moment later, the screens went black.
The crowd gasped.
Donovan stood, instantly alert.
Aidan stepped forward, raising his voice with CEO authority.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we seem to be experiencing a brief technical disruption. Please remain calm."
The crowd simmered, confused but compliant.
Elina seized the moment, slipping away toward the backstage systems. Harper's hack had given her temporary access—just enough to plant a digital footprint that would trace the auction upload back to Donovan.
She uploaded a fragment of the original design, watermarked with her signature from years ago—an undeniable timestamp proving her authorship.
By the time she returned, Aidan was fielding questions from concerned donors.
"Elina," he said under his breath, "what did you do?"
"I gave them the truth," she replied. "And I gave you a countdown. You have forty-eight hours to clean house. After that… I release everything."
He studied her. "You're not bluffing."
"I never bluff."
She turned to walk away.
But he caught her hand.
"Elina—"
She paused.
He didn't say anything else.
He just looked at her.
As if hoping that the version of them that once existed still had air left to breathe.
She gently pulled her hand free.
And this time, she didn't look back.