The First Spark
A week later, the city buzzed with excitement for one of London's most glamorous charity galas — an event hosted by Blackwood Enterprises each year. It was elegant, opulent, and exhausting, at least for Ethan, who'd rather be in his office than mingling with the elite.
But this time, it was different.
He wasn't arriving alone.
Lila stepped out of the car beside him, dressed in a simple off-shoulder gown of pale gold that shimmered under the lights. Her hair was swept up neatly, exposing the delicate line of her neck. She looked graceful — understated — and breathtaking.
As they entered the ballroom, conversation paused for a heartbeat. Heads turned, whispers followed. The new Mrs. Blackwood.
Lila could feel the stares, the judgment behind every polite smile. Her hand trembled slightly at her side until she felt Ethan's fingers brush against hers — not quite holding, but close enough to steady her.
"You'll be fine," he said quietly, his tone surprisingly reassuring.
She glanced up at him. "Are you sure?"
His lips twitched — almost a smile. "I've never been surer of anything."
Inside, chandeliers glowed above the glittering crowd. Waiters floated past with champagne and laughter rippled through the air. Lila stayed close to Ethan, quietly observing.
People adored him. Every word he spoke drew attention. Yet even as he conversed, his gaze would flick to her — small, silent glances that no one noticed but her.
At one point, as he excused himself to greet investors, Lila found herself alone near the refreshment table. A group of women approached — wives of board members, their smiles thin and eyes sharp.
"So you're the Lila Hart," one said, her tone dripping with curiosity. "We were all wondering how someone so… quiet managed to capture Mr. Blackwood's attention."
Another chimed in with a smirk. "It's such a surprise. He never struck us as the type to marry out of… obligation."
Lila froze, the words landing like cold rain. She forced a polite smile. "I suppose people change."
"Oh, darling," the first woman said sweetly, "men like Ethan don't change. They just get bored."
Lila's throat tightened. She murmured an excuse and turned away, her eyes stinging. She hadn't expected kindness from this world — but cruelty still cut deep.
Ethan found her minutes later, standing alone near the balcony, clutching her glass too tightly.
"Lila," he said quietly, touching her arm. "You disappeared."
She tried to smile, but her voice trembled. "Just needed air."
His eyes darkened, scanning the room, then landing on the women who were still watching, amused. Something cold flashed through him.
Without hesitation, he took her hand — firmly, deliberately — and led her back into the center of the ballroom.
The music shifted — a slow waltz beginning.
Ethan turned to her. "Dance with me."
Her eyes widened. "Ethan, I—"
But before she could protest, he placed a hand gently at her waist, his other hand clasping hers.
They began to move — slowly, gracefully — all eyes now on them.
She looked up at him, breath catching. "Everyone's staring."
"Good," he murmured. "Let them."
His voice was low, steady, but his gaze… his gaze burned with something new — protective, possessive, tender all at once.
"You're my wife, Lila," he said quietly, just for her ears. "No one gets to make you feel small. Ever."
Her heart fluttered wildly. The words weren't a declaration, but they felt like one.
The song ended, applause rippling through the crowd. Ethan bent slightly, brushing a soft kiss against her hand — a gesture so unexpectedly intimate that she almost forgot how to breathe.
When they returned to their table, the whispers had changed tone. People looked at her differently now — with respect.
And Lila, for the first time since the wedding, didn't feel like a stranger in her own life.
Later that night, back at the penthouse, Lila paused by the door of her room.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Ethan turned from loosening his tie. "For what?"
"For tonight. For defending me."
He met her eyes — tired, but softer than she'd ever seen them. "I wasn't defending you, Lila. I was showing them what they failed to see."
Her breath caught. "And what's that?"
He hesitated, then said quietly, "That you belong here."
For a long moment, they just looked at each other — no words, no pretense. Just that quiet, invisible pull between two hearts finding rhythm.
When she finally whispered goodnight and closed the door, Ethan stood in the empty hall, his pulse unsteady.
Something inside him had shifted tonight — something he couldn't explain, and maybe didn't want to.
He wasn't just respecting her anymore.
He was starting to feel her