Chapter 12 #2
He doesn't smile for the crowd. He doesn't charm them. He doesn't open with a joke or a polished anecdote. He stands there in his perfectly tailored tux, without a black tie at a black-tie event. His hands resting lightly on the podium and lets the silence settle.
"Most people think games are about winning," he says.
A pause.
"They're not."
The room goes still.
"They're about access. Choice. Independence. Belonging. They're about entering a world where the rules can be adjusted so more people get to play."
My throat tightens.
He looks out over the room, not at anyone in particular, but somehow at everyone. He has a knack for not looking people in the eye.
"When I built my first game, I didn't think about markets or revenue or disruption. I thought about escape. I thought about control. I thought about what it felt like to enter a world where I understood the rules."
Something inside me aches.
"Tonight is about making sure more children get that chance. Not someday. Not when technology becomes cheaper or easier or more convenient. Now."
The applause starts before he finishes.
This time, when people look at Witt O'Ryan, they don't just see the billionaire, the genius, the quiet man behind a gaming empire.
They see the reason behind it. And so do I.
After his speech, the room swallows Witt once more.
Sponsors approach. Donors shake his hand.
Reporters ask questions. He answers with short, efficient sentences, but now I can see the effort beneath every interaction.
The way his shoulders tense with too many people too close.
The way he never looks anyone in the eye except his family.
The way his fingers tap once against his leg before he stills them.
The way he keeps searching for quiet inside a room built for noise.
Chase finds me and ask me to dance. He slips his arm around my waist and we sway to the beat.
“Thanks for inviting me. Maci… I … I want more.”
“More champagne? There’s plenty.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “No, us. We get along so well and I’ve hardly seen you since you moved here.”
“Once I’m settled in and have a handle on my job, I’ll have more time.”
Tyler dances into us with a gorgeous brunette. “Hey sis, this is the best night of my life.”
“Thanks for coming. It means a lot.” It really does because none of my family has ever been to anything of mine.
The song ends and Tyler and the girl ask Chase to go look at the silent auction items with them.
Eventually, I find a corner near one of the balconies where the music is softer and the air feels less crowded. I stand there holding a glass of champagne I haven't touched, watching kids test adaptive controllers under glittering chandeliers, and let myself feel happy.
Really happy.
For once, I feel like I am exactly where I am supposed to be.
"You disappeared." His voice comes from beside me, low and familiar.
I turn and Witt stands a few feet away, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a glass of water. Of course it's water.
"I needed a second."
"Same. Follow me.”
His honesty surprises me. Although I don’t know why. Witt says what he means without extra words or a flowery description.
We escape to a balcony that’s tucked out of the way closer to the catering entrance. The warm wind hits me in the face, but also the gorgeous scenery. I came from the inside, so I never saw how the staff had put thousands of twinkly lights in the trees.
His elbows are on the balcony rail, and I turn sideways leaning against it.
I look at his profile and it’s flawless, square jaw, straight nose that fits him perfectly.
If he was an athlete, he’d be the most photographed man on the planet.
Instead, he likes to fly under the radar and keep the focus on his companies.
After a few moments of quiet, I say, "Your speech was incredible."
His jaw shifts. "It was necessary."
"That wasn't what I said."
"I know."
A smile tugs at my mouth. "Take the compliment, Witt."
He ignores me but says, “You didn’t introduce me to Chase, but I did meet your brother. He was dancing with my niece, Paulina. He’s a good guy, right?”
I knew once I saw Witt with Noelle’s little boy and girl that he loves his family and it’s sweet that he’s protective of his older niece too.
“Yeah, he’s a relationship guy, so I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.”
“And Chase?”
“We’re just friends.”
“Good friends?”
“Yes.” It comes out all breathy and scratchy and I’m wondering where my voice went and why.
His gaze lifts. And this time, he doesn't look away.
Not after half a second.
Not after one.
His eyes lock on mine, softening at the edges. It’s the first time he’s looked into my eyes. I’ve never seen him look into anyone’s. The glittering lights fade. Witt stands in front of me, looking directly at me like I'm the one thing at this gala that he can't reduce to data.
My pulse goes wild.
His eyes are warmer than I realized. Not brown exactly. More like whiskey held up to light, with darker edges and something golden near the center.
I don't know if he knows how intimate it feels. But he keeps looking, and I can't move.
I don't want to move.
My breath catches, and something in his expression shifts. A fracture in all that control. A question he doesn't say out loud.
Please.
The thought hits so clearly it scares me.
Please kiss me.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
Then back to my eyes.
Everything inside me melts and tightens at the same time.
He whispers, “Do you like fantasy games?”
I nod unable to speak, mesmerized by this man.
“You look like the heroine in a game. The kind of woman that men will climb mountains for.”
My lips tremble as his breath washes over me.
“It’s a compliment Maci.”
I know. I just can’t talk. He’s rendered me speechless.
His fingers rub over the back of my hand as he stares at me. My insides tripping over the electrical pulse. My body is on fire and on edge.
He bends down.
His lips only an inch or two away from mine.
Please kiss me.