THE CHARITY GALA

Alexander’s POV

“Mr Kane, Mr Kane, please this way,” the paparazzi yelled as I got out of my car and walked up the red carpet toward the huge building for the charity gala.

Flashes of the camera almost blinded my vision as the hungry journalists nearly fell over the barricade just to get a glimpse of me for their measly newspapers. I turned away from them without giving them any ounce of attention.

I stepped into the large room and watched as every rich prick moved with elegance and pride, keeping meaningless conversations they didn’t care to hold.

A waiter passed by me and I took a glass from the tray, taking a sip.

Vodka… not bad.

My eyes scanned the room and landed on a woman who didn’t look like she could cause much trouble if I spent the night with her. She caught my eye and winked, a sultry smile gracing her lips as she walked over.

Let the games begin.

I slowly raised my glass to my lips and took another sip, longer this time, watching her intently as she walked up.

“Miss Eliane,” she said, stretching out her hand for me to take, jutting out her chest so I could get a nice view of her enormous boobs. I chuckled. They’re all the same.

I took her hand in mine and raised it to my lips.

“Alexander.”

Her eyes widened a bit. “The Alexander Kane?” Her lashes fluttered, and her face flushed a bright pink. She probably thought she had hit the jackpot.

“The same one,” I replied, and she stepped closer to me.

She was about to open her mouth to speak when something else caught my attention.

Her hair was up in an elegant twist, held with beautiful gold pins. She wore a deep, backless, long, green gown that clung to her curves and dark heels that made her a bit taller, though not much.

Her back was to me, but I knew it was her from miles away.

She turned from the person she was speaking with, laughing lightly, and then her green eyes locked with mine.

Her smile faltered and my grip on my drink tightened.

The noise in the room faded to a hum, drowned beneath the pounding of blood in my ears.

I cleared my throat and turned to the woman beside me. “Excuse me, Evie.”

“It’s Elaine!” she snapped behind me, but I didn’t care. I was already walking toward her.

I reached her just as she looked like she might bolt. Without hesitation, I took her hand in mine. She didn’t stop me. I raised it to my lips and kissed her knuckles, my eyes never leaving hers.

“You!” she yelled a bit too loud, making the people around us turn back to face us.

“Yes, me,” I replied with a smirk. The Guy that you couldn't help but spill all your drink on.”

She blushed and pulled her hand back, flustered.

“H-hi. What are you doing here?”

“I came to attend the gala. You?”

“I’m part of the organizers. You know, the Harmony Initiative group,” she replied, fiddling with her fingers before finally meeting my gaze again.

“Oh, I see. The company that wouldn’t stop sending me emails for support and presence.”

She laughed, clearly relaxing. “Who might you be then? I’ve had to convince a few, but I’ve never seen you before… except that day at the coffee shop, which I’m really sorry about.”

Her brows pinched in an awkward little frown.

“I’m Alexander Kane. Kane Industries.”

Her face stayed blank.

I stared at her. “You really don’t know who I am?”

“I really don’t,” she said with a soft smile.

“Well then, that aside. What’s this beautiful lady’s name?”

“Olivia.”

She had such a beautiful name and I kept replaying it in my head over and over.

Before I could say anything else, some blonde lady called out to her. Olivia gave me an apologetic look and left.

I didn’t see her again for a while. I tried to follow her with my eyes from where I stood, but she moved fast as she belonged everywhere at once. I figured she had to be the sociable face of the foundation.

The night was slipping away. I’d almost given up on seeing her again when I spotted her in a quiet corner, sipping wine, probably trying to hide from the eyes of everyone. They all seemed to want her attention and she didn't look like she wanted to give it.

I approached her without a word.

“You found the one peaceful spot in this pretentious hellhole,” I said, stealing a sip from her glass.

She jumped a bit, placing her hand on her chest, but after seeing it was me, she visibly relaxed and rested her back on the wall again.

“they're not all pretentious, you know,” she replied.

“Damn, could have fooled me. They're all fake as hell. Each person hiding a deathly secret that could destroy all that they've built.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You’re something else, Mr. Kane.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing and you can call me Alex”

She arched a brow. “I’m still deciding.”

I stepped closer, just slightly. “Let me help you decide, then.”

I dropped the glass on a nearby table and took her hands in mine, dragging her away.

We moved towards the balcony. She hesitated but didn’t stop me.

Once outside, the noise dulled and the city lights stretched far below us. She leaned over the railing, and I watched her memorising every curve and watching the glint of the moon on her luscious skin that I wanted to taint with my marks.

“This dress,” I muttered.

She turned to look at me. “What about it?”

“I hate it,” I said, walking up behind her. “It makes it hard to behave.”

She rolled her eyes, but her breath hitched when my hand ghosted down her back. “You should behave, Alexander.”

“I’ve never been good at that.”

I pulled her to me, her face just inches from mine.

I reached up, brushed a stray hair from her cheek, and then, very slowly, lowered my mouth to hers.

Her lips were soft, and she almost backed off at first, but then she relaxed in my arms. My hand slid to her waist, the other tangling in her hair. Her fingers gripped my suit jacket, pulling me closer.

The kiss deepened as the body pressed into hers. I wanted more. I needed more.

I pressed her against the railing, one leg slipping between hers. My lips moved from her mouth to her neck, to her jaw, tasting her delicious skin.

“Olivia!” a sharp voice broke me from the haze I was in and she pushed me off her instantly.

A lady came into view and looked between us before her eyes finally landed on Olivia with a raised brow and many questions.

“Olivia, it’s announcement time. We need you back in the hall”

Olivia shoved gently at my chest, breathing hard. “I—I have to go.”

She turned away, fixing her hair and adjusting her dress as the other lady tried to help her look presentable too. Her cheeks were bright red, her lipstick smudged.

I exhaled, trying to adjust myself so I didn’t walk back in looking like a damn pervert in heat. I needed to find her again when the night was over. I needed to taste her and have her. There was something about her and I wasn't ready to let go yet.

By the time I returned to the ballroom, she was already near the stage.

And then I saw him.

Charles Westwood.

My entire body stiffened.

He stood smiling like a goddamn holy person, thanking everyone for coming and charming the entire room.

I could feel my anger bubbling inside me so I took another drink from a passing waiter and swallowed it all in one gulp.

And then…

“And here is my lovely daughter,” he said, grinning wide, “Olivia Westwood.”

My heart stopped.

Her name. Her face. That smile. That kiss…

Westwood.

She was a Westwood.

Damnit.