The Invitation

Chapter 1: The Invitation

Alex

"Come on, Alex. You’ve been tense ever since the summit started. Loosen up a little."

Daniel’s voice, smooth like whiskey, drifted over me, coaxing and playful. I stood by the tall windows of my hotel room, staring out over the glittering lights of the city, my mind already clouded by the weight of expectations. The Global Leadership Summit had been in full swing for days, and as the son of the President of the United States, I had made every effort to maintain the polished, perfect image expected of me. But underneath that facade, I was suffocating.

I didn’t turn to face him, but I could feel the heat of his presence at my side. He was persistent, annoyingly so, and I wasn’t sure whether it was more because of his position as my best friend or because of his rebellious nature.

Either way, we’d somehow ended up spending more time together during this summit than I anticipated. 

Officially, we were supposed to be working together on some leadership panel, but in private, he seemed determined to crack me open. To see what was really going on beneath my stiff exterior.

"Daniel, you know I can’t," I muttered, tightening my grip on the window frame. My jaw clenched at the thought of sneaking out to a place like that. 

Not because I didn’t want to go—part of me was curious, maybe even excited—but because it wasn’t who I was supposed to be. Or rather, it wasn’t who I was allowed to be.

"You 'can'," he countered, moving closer until I could see his reflection beside mine in the glass. He was grinning, that crooked, mischievous grin that always made me feel like I was missing out on some inside joke. "You just won’t. There's a difference."

"I don’t belong there."

Daniel let out a low chuckle, the kind that curled into your bones. "Bullshit. You belong wherever you want to belong. You think I haven’t seen the way you look at me—or the way you try not to look at me? Come on, admit it. You’re curious."

I hated how right he was. Of course, I’d noticed him. How could I not? He was magnetic, the kind of man who didn’t just walk into a room but commanded it.

And it wasn’t just his nobody nature; it was his confidence, the way he embraced who he was without a shred of apology. 

I envied that. I’d been raised my entire life to be the perfect son, the perfect heir to a political dynasty. 

Everything about me had been groomed for public consumption. Even my relationship with Charlotte, my fiancée, was part of the grand plan.

But Daniel was different. He was living his simple life despite being the son of a minister. Teetering over scandals.

But this? This was dangerous. My father’s words echoed in my mind.

“Image is everything, Alex. Every move you make, every word you say, is a reflection of this family. Of this country.”

There wasn’t room in that vision for someone like me to be caught in a bar, surrounded by people who saw me as anything other than the future of American politics.

"Look, I’m not asking you to give a speech or anything," Daniel said, turning me around to face him. 

His eyes were dark, full of unspoken challenges. "It’s just a drink. You need it, Alex. Hell, I need it. Let’s go be nobodies for a night. No expectations. No titles. Just you, me, and a few beers. What’s the harm?"

I finally turned to face him, trying to school my features into something neutral, something that didn’t betray the war going on inside me. "It’s not that simple, Dani. I have a fiancée. I’m the son of the President of the United States. Every move I make is watched, analyzed, picked apart. I can’t just—"

"—be yourself?" he interrupted, raising an eyebrow. His eyes softened, but there was still a playful glint in them, like he was challenging me to deny the truth. "That’s what you’re really saying, isn’t it? That you can’t be yourself?"

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to respond. He wasn’t wrong. I’d spent my entire life performing for an audience, a polished version of myself crafted to meet everyone else’s expectations.

I was Alex Morgan, the golden boy of American politics, destined for greatness. There was no room for mistakes, no room for anything that might tarnish the image my father had carefully constructed.

"Just one night," Daniel said softly, stepping even closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, like it was a secret only for the two of us. "One night where no one knows who you are. No cameras, no advisors, no one breathing down your neck. Just you, me, and a couple of drinks. What’s the harm in that?"

It sounded so simple, so tempting. But the weight of my responsibilities, the fear of being found out, clung to me like a second skin. I could feel the walls closing in, the pressure mounting from every direction, and for a moment, the thought of escaping it all—even just for a few hours—was intoxicating.

"I don’t know," I hedged, my voice betraying the doubt I was trying to suppress. "What if someone recognizes me? What if it gets back to Charlotte? Or worse, to my father?"

Daniel’s grin widened as if he could sense my resolve cracking. "That’s the beauty of it. No one’s going to recognize you. You’ll just be another guy in a bar, having a good time. And trust me, Alex, you need to let loose. If you keep holding all that tension inside, you’re going to explode."

His words hung in the air, heavy with a truth I wasn’t ready to admit to myself. I hadn’t let myself breathe in so long. 

The idea of slipping away from my reality, even for a night, was beginning to feel like something I couldn’t resist.

"Fine," I sighed, running a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the anxiety crawling up my spine. "But just for a few hours. And if this blows up in my face, I’m holding you responsible."

Daniel’s eyes lit up in victory, and he slapped me on the back with a laugh. "You won’t regret it. I promise."

I wasn’t so sure about that.

"Now come on, let me show you how to blend in without raising suspicions."

With reluctance, I finally agreed under his relentless insistence. We both headed to my suitcases of clothes to change. As Daniel rummaged through my closet, he held up a worn leather jacket, its texture familiar against my fingertips. "This looks good. Did you get this from your sister?"

I nodded. "Elena thought it would make me look more approachable. Not that it ever worked." 

"Approachable? Please. You look like a paysan in that. But it’ll have to do!" He tossed me a pair of dark jeans to match and smirked. "Trust me; you’ll fit right in."

I felt ridiculous changing out of my button-down and slacks, but Daniel assured me I no longer looked like a politician's son. 

 After we dressed, Daniel insisted on taking an Uber to the bar. Keeping our heads down, we slipped out of the hotel, the cool air hitting my skin like a refreshing splash of cold water.

When we arrived at the bar, I was taken aback by the lively atmosphere—music pulsing as people laughed and danced without a care for who may be watching. The walls were adorned with colorful artwork, and the bar itself was filled with a rainbow of lights.

"This place is amazing!" I exclaimed, feeling a thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension.

Daniel guided us to a small table near the back, where we quickly ordered drinks. The moment our beers arrived, I noticed men approaching Daniel, flirting shamelessly.

"Hey there, Prince Charming!" one of them said, leaning over our table with a cheeky grin.

I rolled my eyes but felt a strange tightening in my stomach. Daniel was charming back, laughing and engaging them, while I sat there feeling utterly out of place.

Another man turned to me, his interest evident. "What about you? Got a name, or do I have to come up with one?"

"Uh, no thanks," I replied stiffly, glancing away. "I’m not really here to—"

"Come on, Alex, loosen up!" Daniel interjected, his eyes twinkling. "He’s just being friendly."

"Friendly? This feels more like a meat market," I shot back, my nerves fraying.

But Daniel only laughed, drawing more attention from the men around him. As they continued to flirt, I felt myself shrinking under the scrutiny. My heart raced, and I couldn't shake the tension building inside me.

Feeling overwhelmed, I finally stood up. "I need some fresh air," I said, making my way toward the exit.

The night air hit me like a balm, soothing my flushed cheeks. I took a moment to collect my thoughts, but the weight of the situation was still heavy on my shoulders. I turned a corner, lost in thought, when I suddenly collided with a solid form.

A drink spilled down my front as the glass shattered between us.

"Watch where you're going!" an angry voice snapped.

I looked up, meeting the bluest eyes I had ever seen, set in a face that stole my breath. The man was breathtaking—tall, with

tousled dark hair that framed his chiseled features, and a strong jawline that accentuated his handsome face.