Chapter 4: Initial Thoughts

The moment we stepped out of the car, it seemed as if a hundred eyes were watching me. Flashing cameras looked like fireworks, as the rapid shutter sounds merged into a unified, chaotic hum. As we ascended the marble steps of the Astoria Grand, Williams' fingers tightened slightly on my arm, a small but reassuring touch that I held onto.

The smell of ambition and money filled the air within. A sea of expensive dresses and well-tailored suits was illuminated by the golden glow from the brilliant chandeliers. The gentle tones of a live orchestra blended with the sounds of conversation and laughter.

Williams spoke softly as he leaned closer. "Remember that confidence is essential. Don't smile too much. Talk when someone is speaking to you, and please, don't drink too much champagne.

I forced a practiced smile onto my lips and murmured, "Got it."

He guided me through the throng, stopping occasionally to greet or shake hands with people whose names I couldn't possibly recall. I made an effort to keep up, smiling and nodding appropriately, but the sheer luxury of it all was too much to handle.

We soon arrived at a group of individuals who appeared to be more important than everyone else in the room. A tall, sharp-featured man with a smile that stopped short of his eyes stood in the middle.

"Marcel," Williams stated in a calm, collected tone.

With a glance in my direction, the man answered, "Williams." "And Mrs. Franklin must be the new one."

My smile wavered under the pressure of his gaze as I held out my hand. I said, "Freda," hoping that my tone didn't reveal how nervous I was.

Despite the implication in his tone, Marcel said, "Charmed."

The voice of a lady added, "Be careful, Marcel." "You'll frighten her away before she can even have fun."

With her scarlet gown embracing her shape like a second skin and her black hair curled into a neat chignon, the woman who walked forward was breathtaking.

Williams said, "Sophia," in a much calmer tone.

She said, "Darling, it's been too long," her gaze resting on him for an excessive amount of time before turning to me. You must be Freda, too. I've been hearing a lot about you.

I answered, trying to seem lighter, "All good things, I hope."

Sophia's smile broadened, but it had a hint of sharpness, like a dagger concealed by a silk veil. "Obviously," she said with ease.

I could sense the tension in the air and the slight tightening of Williams' hold on my arm. It was obvious that whatever history there was between him, Marcel, and Sophia wasn't a good one.

My focus started to stray when the discourse turned to business, a subject I could hardly understand. Taking in the dazzling crowd, I looked around the room until I noticed a man standing close to the bar.

His dark hair and sharp blue eyes seemed to pierce the room like a dagger, and he was tall. With an intensity that chilled my spine, he was observing us, or more precisely, me.

I turned back to Williams and gently nudged him. "Who is that?" I nodded to the man and muttered.

Williams's face darkened as he followed my eyes. His voice was hard and low as he whispered, "Avoid him."

"Why?" My curiosity sparked me to ask.

"Just follow my instructions," he said in a tone that made no space for disagreement.

I started to move through the crowd as the evening went on, smiling politely and striking up conversations with strangers who seemed more interested in Williams than in me.

The earlier man appeared beside me just as I was getting ready to return to the bar for a necessary drink.

He spoke in a smooth, somewhat playful tone, "You must be Mrs. Franklin."

"Are you, too?" With a cautious tone, I asked.

He held out a hand and said, "Call me Ethan."

He held on to me tightly for a moment too long, and I hesitated before taking it.

With a slight smirk on his lips, Ethan remarked, "Williams doesn't like me much." However, I believe we could get along just fine.

"Is that correct?" I arched a brow in response.

His gaze was keen as he noted, "Let's just say I possess a knack for identifying individuals who don't really belong in this world.""And you don't fit, Mrs. Franklin."

I tensed up and withdrew my hand. "You know absolutely nothing about me."

"Don't I?" he asked, his smirk widening.

Before I could respond, Williams appeared at my side, his expression thunderous. “Ethan,” he said curtly. “I see you’ve met my wife.”

Ethan’s grin remained steadfast. "She’s charming," he remarked. "You are a fortunate man, Williams."

Williams clenched his jaw, and without saying anything more, he took hold of my arm and directed me away from Ethan and toward the middle of the room.

“What on earth was that all about?” I demanded once we were out of earshot.

“Ethan Blackwell,” Williams said, his tone clipped. “He’s dangerous. Stay away from him.”

“Dangerous how?” I pressed, my curiosity flaring again.

Williams didn’t answer, his expression hard as stone.

With the evening's burden bearing down on me, Williams and I headed for the door as the evening came to an end.

However, a voice cried out from behind us as soon as we arrived at the doors.

"Mrs. Franklin."

I turned to see Sophia approaching, her expression unreadable.

Her voice was low but had a tinge that made me shudder. "Be careful who you trust," she warned.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my brow furrowing.

Sophia glanced to Williams, who was observing her with a stern, unblinking gaze. Then she smiled—a slow, knowing smile that only deepened my unease.

As she turned and vanished back into the crowd, she said, "Goodnight."

The cool night air did little to quiet the whirlwind of questions racing through my head as we went outside.

But one thing was clear: whatever I’d gotten myself into, it was considerably more dangerous—and far more complicated—than I’d ever anticipated.

And as we drove away from the event, I couldn’t shake the sensation that this was just the beginning.