Chapter 15
Alex
The applause finally dies down, but I can still feel the weight of a hundred eyes on us. Liv shifts beside me, her fingers tightening around her champagne glass until her knuckles turn white. I need to get her out of this spotlight.
“Come on,” I murmur, taking her hand. “There's someone I want you to meet.”
I guide her through the crowd toward my father, who's already surrounded by well-wishers. People part for us with deferential glances, and I feel Liv's hesitation in every step.
“Dad,” I say when we reach him. “I'd like you to properly meet Olivia Carter.”
My father turns, his expression immediately softening as he takes Liv's hand. “A pleasure, Ms. Carter. Thank you for your service to our city.”
“Please, call me Liv,” she says, her voice steadier than I expect. “And I was just doing my job.”
“The best jobs are rarely easy,” my father replies, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Alex, she’s as wonderful as you implied.”
I hear Liv’s startled breath but before I can respond, my attention is drawn across the room to a familiar figure making his way through the crowd.
York Malone.
My jaw tightens instinctively. Of course he'd be here. The Malones and Thornton’s have been circling each other in this city's elite social strata for generations.
“What's wrong?” Liv asks, noticing my change in expression.
“Nothing,” I say, but she's already looking in the same direction.
“Who's that?” she asks, nodding toward York.
“York Malone,” I admit, my voice flat. “And trust me, you don't want to know him.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Another rich guy you don't get along with?”
“You could say that.” I lead her toward a quieter corner of the room, away from prying ears. “The Malones are old money. Where my father built his fortune through legitimate business, the Malones... let's just say their empire has always had a darker side.”
“Darker how?”
“Connections that don't show up on balance sheets. Favors that can't be traced. York's the worst of them, thinks his family name puts him above everyone else.”
I watch as York laughs with a group of investors, his hand gesturing expansively. “He's sixty and still acts like he's twenty-five.”
Liv follows my gaze. “He's handsome, I guess. If you like that silver fox type.”
“He's been engaged three times that I know of,” I say, bitterness creeping into my voice. “Never made it down the aisle with any of them. Can't hold a relationship because he's too busy holding grudges and collecting secrets. The man is a walking blackmail file.”
“Sounds charming.”
“Exactly why I avoid him.” I turn back to her, forcing a smile. “But enough about him. Are you hungry? The caterers have amazing shrimp cocktails.”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of introductions and forced pleasantries.
I watch Liv navigate this world she doesn't belong to with a grace that surprises me.
She doesn't pretend to be someone she's not, doesn't try to fit in, she just is, and somehow that's more impressive than any socialite's performance.
By eleven, I can see the exhaustion setting in. Her shoulders droop slightly and her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes anymore.
“Ready to get out of here?” I ask quietly.
She nods, relief washing over her features. “More than you know.”
The ride back to her apartment is quiet. The city lights blur past the tinted windows of the car, and I find myself watching her reflection in the glass. She's so different from anyone I've ever known, so real and so grounded in a world that's anything but.
When we reach her building, I walk her to the door. The hallway is dimly lit, smelling faintly of lemon cleaner and old paper.
“This was… interesting,” she says, fumbling with her keys.
“Let me,” I offer, taking them from her trembling fingers. The lock clicks open, and I push the door inward.
She turns to face me in the doorway, her apartment dark behind her. “Thank you for tonight, Alex. Even though it was...”
“A nightmare?” I finish.
A small smile touches her lips. “I was going to say 'overwhelming,' but nightmare works too.”
“I should go,” I bemoan, but my feet don't move.
Neither do hers. The space between us feels charged. There are so many things I want to say, all of them things that I shouldn’t say while I'm working this case.
“Goodnight, Liv,” I finally manage, turning to leave.
“Alex,” she calls softly.
I stop, my back to her.
“Be careful,” she says. “With... everything.”
I nod once, then force myself to walk away, down the hall, toward the elevator. Every instinct screams at me to go back, to stay with her, and to make sure she's safe. And more.
But I can't.
The elevator doors slide open, and I step inside. As they close, I see her still standing in her doorway, watching me go.
I punch the button for the ground floor, my fist clenched so tight my knuckles ache. Getting into that waiting car outside feels like one of the hardest things I've ever done, because every part of me wants to go back up there and stay with her.
But I can't. Not until this case is solved, not until I know she's safe for good.