The kitchen was a blur of heat, knives, and short tempers. Bloom balanced a tray of mini tartlets while dodging a sous chef who looked like he might stab someone hopefully not her. The air was thick with the smell of butter, roasted garlic, and stress. She'd been running back and forth for hours, her calves aching, the knot in her lower back throbbing every time she bent to load another tray.
Just thirty minutes left. Thirty minutes until she could go home, peel off her flour-dusted black shirt, and collapse into the kind of sleep where not even the landlord banging on the door could wake her. Thirty minutes until she could go back to the real world where the only people trying to intimidate her were the electric company and the hospital billing department.
She slipped out into the main room again, past the swinging kitchen door, balancing the tray carefully in her hands. The party had shifted since earlier. The music was softer now, the pianist's fingers gliding over the keys with slow, almost sultry strokes. The crowd was smaller some guests had left, others had gathered into little knots of conversation near the windows or at the bar. The champagne in her tray glittered under the warm gold light like liquid temptation.
Her route through the room was a careful dance sidestep the laughing couple near the balcony, weave around the older man gesturing wildly with his cigar, duck under the arm of the woman adjusting her diamond choker in the mirror.
That's when she noticed the hallway.
She hadn't paid much attention to it earlier just a narrow passageway lined with sleek abstract paintings and tall potted plants. The light there was dimmer, the shadows stretching longer across the marble floor. At first, it seemed empty. Then she heard them.
Two men. Voices low but firm.
"…you're late with the shipment. That was not part of our agreement."
Her steps slowed. That voice deep, smooth, but carrying an unmistakable edge belonged to Ethan Cross. She would know it anywhere after tonight.
"I told you, there was police activity near the docks," the other man replied, sounding defensive. "I'm not risking my crew for"
"You'll risk them for me," Ethan cut in. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that silenced the other man instantly. "Unless you'd rather explain your delay to the family yourself."
The family.
Bloom's brows drew together. The way he said it, it wasn't about blood relatives and cozy dinners. It sounded more like… a threat.
Her sneakers stopped moving. She shouldn't be here. She knew it. But her body didn't seem to be taking commands from her brain.
There was a pause, then the second man's voice dropped lower. "You've been playing the clean businessman for years, Cross. Don't tell me you're ready to get your hands dirty again."
Ethan's answer was almost lazy. "I don't have to be ready. I was born dirty. Don't forget that."
The words hit her like a cold splash of water.
Silence followed. A dangerous, heavy kind of silence.
Bloom's palms itched with nerves. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears. She wasn't naïve ,she knew the world had shadows, that people like Ethan didn't climb to the top without a few bodies under their feet. But this… this felt different. This was the kind of conversation you didn't overhear and just walk away from without consequences.
A soft click of shoes on marble broke the quiet. They were coming closer.
She panicked. Her eyes darted around, searching for somewhere to go, somewhere to hide. She slid behind one of the oversized sculptures near the end of the hallway a strange, twisted thing made of black metal and pressed herself against its cool surface, clutching the tray tight to her chest to keep the glasses from clinking.
Their footsteps passed just feet from where she stood.
The first man tall, stocky, with a neatly trimmed beard didn't even glance her way. The second man… Ethan…
She caught the sharp edge of his profile in the dim light. The cut of his jaw, the slight curve of his mouth, the calm, deliberate way he walked. And those eyes storm-gray, unreadable, the kind that could freeze you where you stood. He didn't look in her direction, but for one fleeting second, she swore his gaze flicked to her hiding place.
If he saw her, he didn't let on.
They walked past and disappeared into the crowd.
Bloom stayed still for a long moment, her breathing shallow, her grip on the tray tight enough to ache.
When she finally stepped back into the main room, the lights felt too bright, the chatter too loud. Everything looked the same, but nothing felt the same.
She spotted Ethan across the room, speaking to an older man in a tuxedo. From here, he looked every inch the billionaire the tailored suit, the expensive watch, the faint curve of charm in his smile. If she hadn't heard what she'd just heard, she might have thought he belonged to this glittering world without a crack.
But now she knew there were shadows in his world. Dark, dangerous shadows.
And she
had a sinking feeling she had just stepped into one of them