Elena's POV
I woke up angry. It was Saturday and I needed more sleep.
I rose with my hair trailing in disarray down my shoulder. I jumped when someone knocked at my door, and I answered it.
Standing there was a delivery man with a small white box. I signed for it without a word and watched him disappear down the corridor.
Once alone, I locked the door and set the box on the table.
I took a long bath, changed into fresh clothes, and had my breakfast. But then my eyes caught the box again. Curiosity prevailed.
I lifted it and opened it carefully. Inside rested a black envelope tied with a gold ribbon. It gave funeral vibes.
Tucked beneath it was a single sheet of paper. I snatched it and read.
You are attending the ball with me. Don't embarrass me. – XM
Who the fuck was XM? My gut twisted. It had to be him—Xavier.
I dropped the paper, then opened the envelope. Its contents revealed an invitation to a charity ball at the city's biggest hotel. And worse, it was on the rooftop.
I didn't want to go anywhere. But the note was clear: 7 PM sharp, formal attire required.
Just my luck, I thought bitterly.
"Alright, boss. Time to surprise you," I muttered.
A glance at my watch told me it was past 11 AM. I still had eight hours. By 6:30 PM, Xavier's car pulled up at my condo to pick me up.
I wore a long black mermaid gown with a V-neck that cut across my back.
The dress had no sleeves, which revealed my shoulders.
My hair was slicked back into a smooth princess bun, with a few curls falling softly around my face.
I made myself stay calm in the car. And there was Xavier, wearing his black tuxedo and smirking in a way that made my skin crawl.
"You look good," he said in a low, close-to-sexy voice.
"You don't look so bad yourself," I responded, cautiously.
We soon arrived at the venue. Xavier held my hand like a gentleman parading a prize as we stepped into the hotel.
********
The rooftop was a dreamlike wonder. I'd never been in a classic hotel that radiated such old-world prestige. Waiters walked around with trays of champagne glasses.
The air smelled expensive, every laugh and clink of glass reinforcing that I was a small cog in a grand machine.
Xavier strode into the crowd like a king, and I was forced to trail by his side. My heart thundered as I walked.
I held still as the eyes I led me wanted to evaporate and disappear.
"Don't flinch," Xavier said into my ear, and goosebumps danced up my skin.
Had he been watching me? He smiled at the gathering and greeted those around him with a calm voice. Quite opposite to the way he was at work.
Then she appeared.
A striking woman in a tight, red bodycon dress that flowed with a daring slit along the side. Her blonde hair cascaded in loose waves.
As she approached, I caught her gliding up to Xavier and saw her deftly kiss his cheek. Her hands roved over his chest in a claim that she assumed was final. Xavier remained still, his smile courteous but hollow.
"Hi, Xavier," she greeted, smiling.
"What's up, Gabriella," Xavier said in a flat voice.
I shrank back a bit, sickness swirling in my gut.
I sipped champagne, hoping to sink into the crowd, to not feel so out of place.
Meanwhile, Xavier gathered with a group of influential older men and their partners, drinking and talking business.
Gabriella stayed at his side, pouring another drink and laughing with an edge of entitlement.
I felt both invisible and exposed. As I moved to leave, I hit someone.
The man helped me up, and apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm Diego. I didn't see you there," he said, offering me a clean towel.
I looked over at Xavier, and the man, catching my glance, added, "Oh. You must be the new assistant he mentioned."
"Excuse me?" I asked, perplexed.
"Sorry. I'm Xavier's best man. The name's Diego," he said with a warm smile.
I mumbled, "Oh—Elena."
"Nice to meet you, Elena," Diego said, his tone easy but focused. Then he came closer and whispered, "The first rule of surviving a Moretti event: never stand still. You'll attract sharks."
I chuckled and fumbled with my response. "Uh-huh."
Diego fetched two drinks from a nearby waiter and, with a half-smirk, offered one to me.
"Gabriella's marking her territory like a bored house cat," he commented, watching me as I turned toward the commotion near Xavier.
"She's his ex," he said as if he read my mind.
I sipped the champagne. "So she's still in the picture?"
"Nope. She's trying to get back," Diego replied. I started towards them, but he gently pulled me back. "Just leave them," he said, nodding toward a secluded corner.
We walked there, away from prying cameras.
"You're different," Diego said quietly once we were alone, "New blood. You haven't been carved up yet."
I managed a wry smile. "I'll pass on the carving."
He chuckled. "You're not going to get much of an option," he said quietly as he passed me another glass.
I paused; I wasn't certain I wanted any more wine tonight, but I took a sip regardless. "If I were going to kill you, I wouldn't kill you with wine. It's too slow. Besides, Xavier would kill me if I tried."
I laughed shakily. I couldn't tell him I was bad at drinking.
He kept me company, chatting and joking, but I soon felt the effects of the wine.
Diego noticed and asked. "You good?"
"I'm fine," I lied. "Just need sleep."
"Need help getting home?" he asked with concern, shadowing his tone.
"No, I've got a suite upstairs," I said, although my voice shook.
Diego took me to the elevator. I fumbled a keycard when I arrived at the door a few times before it opened. "See? I'm good," I said, trying to smile as I slid in and locked the door behind me.
I whipped off my heels and sunk on the floor, huffing. That's when I heard it. A soft, almost imperceptible voice.
A woman's voice. Was I dreaming?
I forced myself to listen as I moved past the parlor. The door to the bedroom stood ajar. I glanced at my key card once more. It was correct, the very same one Xavier had handed me in the car.
My heart pounded as I pushed the door open and entered the bedroom. I froze.
There, on the bed, was Xavier. His shirt was off, his face slack, and Gabriella was on him. Her dress was hiked high; her hands were tangled in his shirt.
He appeared more drugged than drunk. Gabriella leaned close to his ear as if trying to send him a message. He made no resistance.
Something inside me snapped. "Get off him, you bitch!" I screamed.
Gabriella slowly turned, sneering. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm his assistant," I said, though the words wavered as much as my vision did. I wasn't proud of how this night was unfolding.
Gabriella's laughter was cold. "Do you do turndown service too, or just clean up? Can't you see I'm with my boyfriend?"
I steadied myself and managed, "He didn't mention he had a girlfriend. Leave."
She smirked, as if mocking my authority. "Now you know. He always drinks too much at these events. Gets a little needy, a little messy. I've handled him before."
"Leave!" I yelled again, louder this time.
Her smirk faltered for just an instant before she rolled her eyes. "What are you gonna do—file a report?"
That was the last straw. I stepped forward, and with a sharp, resolute smack, I struck her cheek. The sound was loud and her head snapped to the side.
She held her cheek, speechless.
"If I ever see you near him again," I said, voice hard as ice, "I won't stop at one slap."
For a suspended second, I thought she might lunge back. Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room.
I exhaled shakily and moved to Xavier. He lay slumped, murmuring softly, "Gabriella…why'd you leave me?"
There was no anger in his voice, just a broken tentative plea hitting at my heart. I bent down beside him and brushed back disarrayed strands of hair from his forehead.
"I am not her," I said, trembling. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
In that tenuous moment, his hand flew up and caught my wrist. "Don't leave me again…" he begged, each word tender with insecurity.
I was dumbstruck, confused and shocked. But before I could gather my scattered thoughts, his lips met mine. The kiss was frantic, ragged, as if he was trying to claw back something lost. It was an avalanche of conflicting emotions, revulsion, compassion, all at once.
I tried to pull away. I should have. But I kissed him back, slowly at first, then hungrily from my loneliness.
Every touch was raw, unfiltered, and disorienting. His hands roamed my body and I trembled, responding to his touch.
My clothes disappeared in no time and I moaned every time his lips kissed my skin. My nails dug into his skin as he thrusted slowly into me. I moaned, pulled him close and gasped as he took me to the clouds.
********
I opened my eyes as the morning light flashed on my face. My head pounded and I groaned.
I sat up slowly, every movement deliberate. Then I turned to my side.
"Argh!" I screamed, looking at a shirtless Xavier.
He opened his eyes and they locked on mine.
He looked at me from top to bottom and I clutched the sheet on my chest, scared that I had done something terrible.
His eyes locked on mine and they were cold. He looked pissed.
Then he said, in a low, furious voice. "What the fuck are you doing in my bed?"
Nothing seemed to move for a suspended moment.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words were stuck to my tongue.
Oh, God. I had sex with my boss!