Elena's POV:
The table we're led to is rectangular, draped in ivory linen, the center decorated with a tall crystal vase holding white roses.
There are already four people on one side of the table, and two on the other. Only two more seats are left vacant.
As we approach the table, Adrian pulls my chair out for me, a gesture so natural yet so unexpected.
"Thank you," I mutter, taking my seat and smoothing my dress. As Adrian takes his seat, his thigh brushes mine. I fist my hands on my lap and inhale deeply.
A woman in her mid-thirties with striking red hair and an expensive navy pantsuit.
A middle-aged man with rimless glasses and a tablet in front of him.
A younger man scrolling through his phone.
And another woman around my age, maybe late twenties, wearing a silver dress and a confident smile. And then the two young men on our left.
They all turn as we settle.
"Good morning," the redhead says warmly. "You must be Mr. and Mrs. Moretti, yes? We were told you'd be joining this table."
"Yes," Adrian answers with a small nod.
"Elena," I add quietly.
"I'm Caroline Hayes," she says, extending her hand. "Investment strategist for Hayes & Onyx Group."
I shake her hand. Her grip is firm and professional.
Adrian, in turn, gives her a light shake but quickly retreats his hand like her touch burns.
We exchange greetings and pleasantries with the rest of the guests at the table. Each of them seems nice but mostly professional. Business-minded.
The waiter then appears, pouring water and distributing breakfast menus.
I pick mine up, going over it.
"What would you like to order?" Adrian asks, eyes on his own menu.
"Uhh..." I look through the menu again. They're a bunch of foods, different varieties and all, but I still don't know what to order. But I don't want to keep him waiting.
"I think bacon and sausage?"
His eyes lift to mine. "You think?"
I blink. "Bacon and sausage," I nod, assuring him.
"Mmm." He turns back to his menu.
Caroline looks between us with interest. "So, Mrs. Moretti," she begins kindly, "is this your first time attending a summit?"
I smile lightly. "Is it that obvious?"
"Not really. I can just tell," she smiles.
I straighten. "Well, it is. But I think I'm adjusting pretty fine."
"That's normal," Daniel, whose eyes have been on his phone since, finally says. "My wife hated our first summit. Too many people in one place." He laughs and stares into space as if remembering it. "Too bad she can't come this time."
"Why not?" I ask, engaging him.
His lips curl up slightly as he looks at me. "There's a baby on the way," he whispers dramatically.
My insides warm at his statement. Oh, how I love babies.
"Congratulations," I beam.
"Thank you, Mrs. Moretti," he nods, appreciating my sentiment.
"She's in her third trimester. She wanted to come with me, but I insisted she stay back. I don't want her stressing herself with things like this."
"That's nice of you," I tell him.
The rest of the table engages in conversation, whispers and murmurs flying left and right.
I let myself out of the conversation and pretend to be busy on my phone. I'm still not used to being around so many people. And that little conversation I had with Daniel already drained me.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself."
I turn to Adrian, whose attention is on his own phone. Then I sigh.
"Not really."
"What's the problem?"
I hesitate for a bit but choose to say it anyway. "It's nothing. I'm just not big on crowds. And I'm not always so comfortable around new faces."
He lifts his head to me, then cocks it to the side. "You're handling it pretty well, though. I almost didn't notice."
I laugh nervously. "Thank you."
"Mmm," he nods.
The waiter comes back to our table to take our orders.
"What would you like, Mrs.?"
Before I can answer, I hear Adrian speak.
"Bacon and sausages for her."
The waiter turns to him, nodding. "And you, sir?"
"I'll have a cup of coffee."
I frown. "A cup of coffee? Really?"
"Is there anything wrong with that?" He catches my eyes.
"Yes. It's not food," I say flatly.
"Well, I'm not hungry."
I cock a brow at him, and he returns it with slitted eyes.
When he doesn't give in, I sigh, looking away. Whatever.
"I'll prepare your orders right now," the waiter says, leaving the table.
Just then, Ricci comes up to the front stage, mic in hand. He hits the head of the mic twice, lightly, to gather everyone's attention.
The murmurs and whispers die down as all eyes fall on him now.
"Good evening, everyone, ladies and gentlemen," he begins, eyes dancing over the room. "First of all, I want to welcome you all, and thank you for making time out of all of your busy schedules to be present here, for this summit."
The speech continues, but his voice becomes muffled. I'm not listening to anything he says. Not because I don't want to, but because I feel a heavy gaze on the side of my face.
I look around the room subtly, but I can't find anyone. Everyone looks focused on Ricci. But I still feel that same intense gaze.
Someone is watching me. Shivers run down my spine, and I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
The waiter comes back with my plate of food in one hand and Adrian's coffee in the other, then places them on the table.
"Here you are, Sir, Mrs."
"Thank you," I mutter, while Adrian nods subtly, dismissing him.
I shake my head. Maybe I'm just overthinking, and there's actually no one watching me.
I shift my attention to the food in front of me and stuff a few forks into my mouth. Beside me, Adrian sips on his coffee, eyes glued to his phone.
Later, Ricci ends his speech, and I'm done eating now. Adrian has also finished his cup of coffee.
I heard Ricci say that we could leave after having breakfast. This was just a welcome meal he had planned. Tomorrow, the main events start.
Some guests start leaving the room, while some remain seated, ordering more food. But somehow, I still have that weird feeling, even after some time has passed.
"Are you okay?" Adrian's deep voice startles me.
"What?" I blink.
His eyes narrow. "You seem lost in thought. What's the matter?"
"Oh... it's nothing. I'm just tired. Should we return to the room now? We're done with breakfast, right?"
His eyes study me for some seconds, an unconvinced look on his face.
"Sure," he says finally, and I sigh internally grateful he didn't push.
He gets up from his seat, then comes behind me to help me out of mine.
"Excuse us," I smile wryly at the rest of the table before turning to Adrian.
His hand slides to my back, and he pulls me to him as he leads us out.
I clear my throat and walk ahead, pretending that my skin isn't burning from his touch.
When we're almost close to the door, someone calls out Adrian's name from behind us.
We both stop and turn to see who it is. A man with dark hair and dark suit approaches us. He looks like he's in his early thirties. Tall, broad shoulders, full beard, and a perfect smile that's plastered on his face.
"Mr. Moretti," he greets warmly as he reaches us. "I didn't expect to see you here this year." He reaches his hand out for a handshake.
"Marco," Adrian says with a sharp gaze. But he doesn't take his hand, instead he puts his free hand that's not on my back, inside his pocket.
What's that about?
The man laughs a bit too loudly, throwing his head back. "I see you still don't like me much," he says, grinning to one side, and retreating his hand.
"I don't like you a bit," Adrian corrects, irritation laced in his tone.
"Hmph," the man huffs, running a hand along his jaw.
Then his eyes slide to me, interest flickering in them.
Adrian's hand twitches behind me.
"Who's the lady, Adrian?"
"No one you need to know," Adrian grits.
"Mmm," his lips curl up. "I don't think so."
He reaches a hand out in my direction, wearing a wide grin on his face. "I'm Marco. Marco Van del."
I look to Adrian nervously. He doesn't look at me. Instead, he's glaring at Marco's extended hand like he wants to chop it off.
I look back to Marco.
"I'm..."
"Get your hand away from my wife," Adrian's angry voice cuts me off.
"Wife?" Marco's brows lift up in surprise.
"Oh, no, Adrian, that's not good now, is it? You got married and you didn't even send me an invite." His eyes shift to me, gliding down my body from head to toe. "And to someone this beautiful."
I shift uncomfortably. It seems Adrian notices, because he pushes me closer to him, his hand sliding lower to my waist, and his grip tightens.
I let myself lean into his warmth.
"We're done with this conversation," Adrian grits, spinning me around with him.
I hear Marco's deep laugh behind us. "Enjoy the rest of your day!" He calls out.
We don't stop. I try to steady my heart and keep following Adrian's lead until we're out of the room.