CHAPTER 4 — THE WORDS THAT WERE HEARD TOO FAR AWAY
Outside the library, the gala continued.
Music. Laughter. Glass clinking.
Inside the ballroom, Bradley Hayes was enjoying himself.
He stood near the ice sculpture again, recounting Chloe’s exit to Jessica like it was a joke worth repeating.
“I think she cried,” he said, smiling. “Same old Chloe. Always emotional.”
Jessica laughed lightly.
“She really let herself go,” she added.
Bradley nodded. “Some women just stop trying.”
They did not notice the change in the room.
They did not notice the way conversations subtly slowed.
Or the way three men near the bar stopped smiling at the same time.
Or the way a server dropped a tray and no one laughed.
Because from the back of the ballroom, a man in a dark suit had entered.
No announcement.
No escort.
Just presence.
Dante Moretti walked through the crowd like it belonged to him and he was simply checking its condition.
People noticed anyway.
They always did.
Bradley, however, did not.
Not until Dante stopped directly behind him.
“You find her amusing,” Dante said calmly.
Bradley turned.
And smiled.
Because he didn’t recognize danger when it wasn’t asking politely.
“Oh,” Bradley said. “You must be a donor. Sorry, I didn’t realize we were doing introductions.”
Jessica glanced over Dante quickly—confused, slightly impressed.
Dante’s eyes didn’t move.
“You spoke about her in the library,” he said.
Bradley blinked.
Then laughed.
“Oh. That woman? She’s my ex. Bit dramatic.”
A pause.
Then Dante said:
“Apologize.”
Bradley frowned.
“I’m sorry?”
“Not to me.”
A beat.
“To her.”
Bradley’s smile tightened.
“You’re joking.”
Dante leaned slightly closer.
And the temperature of the room dropped.
“No,” he said.
Bradley hesitated.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered.
“You don’t understand,” Bradley said. “She’s not even—”
Dante cut him off.
“You have five seconds.”
Silence spread outward.
People began to notice.
Jessica stepped back.
Bradley swallowed.
“…Fine,” he said awkwardly. “Whatever. I’m sorry she overheard me.”
Dante’s expression did not change.
“That wasn’t an apology.”
Bradley’s voice sharpened. “What is this, some kind of performance?”
Four seconds.
Three.
Two.
Dante turned his head slightly.
May you like
“Last chance.”
And Bradley, finally sensing something real under the surface, went pale.
