6. Eliana #2
Then I folded the note and slipped it back into the envelope before Walter could see my face.
Cookie chirped from the sofa. "Stupid."
Walter pointed at him. "I don't like him."
"He's decided that already."
"I can see that."
That evening, when Adrian arrived to pick me up, I understood why he had been so certain about the dress.
He stood outside my house in a fitted gray shirt beneath a black coat, the fabric following the lines of his shoulders and chest perfectly. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd run his fingers through it one too many times, and his blue eyes settled on me the moment I stepped outside.
For once, he didn't say anything immediately.
His expression changed in a way I couldn't quite place.
Then he smiled. "You look ethereal."
The compliment should have made me blush. Instead, I noticed his eyes. They were still fixed on me, but there was something distant, as though the sight of me had awakened a memory he hadn't meant to revisit.
“Well, thank you,” I replied softly, but he kept looking. “Like what you see?” I tried copying him.
He blinked and then laughed, remembering our first meeting in the SUV. "Nothing. I was appreciating the dress."
"Just the dress?" I chuckled.
"Don't make me answer that." I smiled and slipped my hand through his arm.
"Come on, Mr. Billionaire. We're going to be late."
“Let's go, Miss Author!”
The gala was being held inside one of Richmond's most extravagant event spaces.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, enormous arrangements of white flowers filled the entrance, and golden light spilled across polished marble floors.
Every table seemed to hold someone whose name I had seen in the financial pages or on television.
Adrian moved through the room like he belonged to it. Perhaps because he did.
People stopped him every few steps, greeting him with handshakes and smiles. He introduced me when necessary, always with the same calm confidence.
"This is Eliana."
Not my girlfriend. Just my name. Yet somehow, everyone understood. After a while, one of his business acquaintances approached, and Adrian leaned toward me.
"I need to speak with him for a minute. Stay here."
"I'll survive."
His eyes briefly scanned the room before he nodded. "I know."
He walked away. I turned toward the bar, but before I could reach it, a man stepped into my path.
"Eliana Hart." I recognized him from one of the earlier events. Marcus Whitmore. Sole owner of the famous Whitmore Industries.
"Mr. Whitmore."
"You remember me."
"I do."
His smile widened as his eyes moved over my dress. "You look even better tonight."
"Thank you." I tried to move past him, but he stepped into my path.
"I was hoping we'd get another chance to talk."
"I think we already did."
"Not nearly enough." His tone made me uncomfortable.
"I should find Adrian."
"You don't need to hide behind him."
My eyes widened at his remark. "I'm not hiding."
Marcus laughed and stepped closer. "You know, I never understood what he saw in you."
I forced a polite smile. "Then I suppose you'll have to keep wondering."
I turned away, but he caught my wrist. Before I could pull free, another hand closed around his wrist.
Adrian.
His expression was perfectly calm. His voice was even calmer. "Let her go."
Marcus released me immediately. Adrian stepped beside me and slipped one arm around my waist. He looked at Marcus with a faint smile. "I believe you're talking to my girlfriend."
Marcus straightened his jacket. "We were only having a conversation."
"She said she wanted to leave."
"She didn't seem that eager."
Adrian's smile disappeared. "That's because she's polite."
Marcus gave a quiet laugh. "You seem very protective for a relationship that everyone knows is rather new."
Adrian's arm tightened slightly around my waist. "Does that concern you?"
Marcus looked between us, then smiled. "Not at all. Although I suppose sharing isn't easy when you're used to having everything."
The words were meant to provoke him. They did.
Marcus's gaze moved toward me again. "Perhaps she wouldn't mind spending some time with someone who knows how to appreciate her too."
Adrian's expression went completely still. Marcus smirked. "I'm sure a woman like her could be persuaded."
Adrian grabbed the front of his collar. The movement was so fast I barely had time to react.
"Adrian." He didn't hear me.
His fist connected with Marcus's jaw, sending him crashing onto the marble floor.
A gasp swept through the room. Adrian stepped toward him again. Something had changed in his face. The charming man who had been smiling moments ago was gone. There was nothing playful in his eyes now.
"Adrian!" I grabbed him from behind, wrapping both arms around his waist before he could strike again. "Stop."
He froze. For a second, his entire body remained tense beneath my hands. Then Walter appeared, looking horrified. "Sir, please."
Adrian stared down at Marcus, breathing heavily. Walter caught his arm. "Boss, you really need to stop punching people at charity events. It creates paperwork."
Adrian finally stepped back. People had gathered around us, and cameras were already flashing. Walter immediately moved between Adrian and the crowd. "Everyone is fine," he announced. "Nothing to see here."
Nothing about Adrian's expression suggested he agreed. He looked at me instead. "Are you hurt?"
I shook my head. "No."
His eyes dropped briefly to the wrist Marcus had grabbed. Then back to my face. "Good."
The drive home was quiet. Eventually, I couldn't resist. "I thought this relationship was fake," I said, glancing at him.
"It is," Adrian replied.
"Then why did you look so angry?"
He gritted his teeth in silence.
"Why?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the road. "You don't want me to protect you?"
"Of course I do." I gave him a small smile. "But because of me, you might have ruined your reputation. You looked ready to bury that man."
A corner of his mouth lifted, but there was no humor behind it. "I simply dislike people touching what's mine."
I nearly choked and turned to look at him. Adrian kept his eyes fixed on the road.
For several seconds, the car remained silent. Then he cleared his throat and glanced at me. “I apologize if I scared you at the event.”
I shook my head. “No, it's fine.”
“How is your novel coming?"
I knew what he was doing. Changing the subject. And strangely, I let him. We talked about my manuscript for the rest of the drive, but I barely remembered the conversation after he dropped me home.
That night, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. My fingers found my mother's pendant again, but this time I caught myself before I could start rubbing it between my fingers.
For as long as I could remember, I'd reached for it whenever I was nervous or uncertain, as though touching it could lend me a little courage.
But lately, I had noticed something changing in me.
I wasn't second-guessing myself as much anymore.
I was speaking my mind, trusting my own decisions, and facing things that once would have made me retreat.
I didn't need to keep reaching for the pendant every time I felt uncertain.
I looked down at the familiar piece of jewelry resting against my skin. It would always remind me of my mother, and taking it off didn't mean I loved her any less. I simply didn't want to keep depending on it every time I needed to feel brave.
Maybe it was time to let that courage belong to me.
I slipped the chain over my head and held the pendant in my palm for a moment before placing it carefully inside my jewelry box.
When I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt strangely lighter.
For once, I wanted to face whatever came next with confidence that was entirely my own. I recalled what Adrian said in the car.
What's mine.
I kept hearing the words. He hadn't cared about the cameras. He hadn't cared about the businessman, the guests, or what tomorrow's headlines would say.
He had cared about only one thing.
Me.
I told myself he'd only said it because we were supposed to look convincing. That was all.
But if that was true, why did my heart keep asking a question I wasn't ready to answer?
Was I starting to feel something for Adrian Ashford?