3. Raven

Chapter 3

Raven

T he sleek black car glided to a halt. With a discreet click, the driver's door opened and closed as I made my appearance. The heels of my stilettos clicked against the pavement.

"Raven! Over here!" a voice called out from the crowd lining the entrance to the charity gala.

I turned towards the sound, my expressive eyes alight with recognition. My lips curved into a warm smile. I lifted my hand in a regal wave, acknowledging the adoring fans and friends who vied for attention. They held up their phones, eager to capture this moment with the woman who had become an icon of resilience and success.

This night was about more than celebration; it was an affirmation of the hard-earned independence I treasured, a testament to the strength that carried me from a modest beginning to the heights of acclaim. And yet, beneath the surface, I remained alert, my senses tuned to any sign of disturbance that might pierce the veneer of this glittering event.

"Raven, we love you!" the chorus of voices rose behind me as I approached the grand doors, the clamor echoing off the high columns of the gala hall.

Once inside, I allowed myself a moment to scan the opulent foyer, my gaze sharp and searching. Time to find Evelyn .

Inside the gala's grand foyer, I navigated through the clusters of elegantly dressed guests like a ship adeptly sailing through calm seas.

"Raven, darling, they need you for a quick photo by the centerpiece," Evelyn Carter chimed in. A clipboard clutched in one hand, her other reached out to tug at my elbow.

"Of course, let's make it snappy though," I responded, the corners of my mouth lifting into an amused grin at the sight of Evelyn's planned schedule.

"Snappy? With you looking like a million bucks? Good luck with that."

"Okay, how about we aim for two million, then?" I played along, allowing Evelyn's lighthearted energy to eclipse the undercurrent of tension that settled in me.

"Always aiming higher, aren't you?" Evelyn winked, tapping something onto her tablet with efficient fingers. "And don't forget the speech."

"Wouldn't dream of it. After all, what's a gala without a few heartfelt words?"

"Come on, superstar," Evelyn said, linking her arm with mine as we made our way towards the floral arrangement that served as the evening's showpiece. "Time to shine even brighter."

As the flashbulbs popped and the cameras captured my poised figure, I stood the perfect image of success.

Ever since receiving the flowers, I'd been on edge. Someone was watching me. Stalking me. It had invaded my sense of peace and had been all-consuming, but I couldn't let it stop me from living my life.

A moment's respite at my table, the white linen cloth pristine under the soft glow of candlelight. As I reached for the napkin, my fingers encountered something unexpected—a folded piece of paper, stark against the cream fabric.

My pulse quickened as I palmed the note. This was not part of the evening's script. Whoever was behind this would not see me falter.

Taking a breath, I unfolded the letter, eyes skimming the scrawled handwriting, each word sending a jagged chill down my spine. "We're always watching," it read, and nothing more. No signature, no clue as to the sender.

"Always watching?" I mused, my mind grappling with the implications. Was it a prank? A threat? It was a puzzle wrapped in an enigma, one I intended to solve without drawing unnecessary attention.

As the evening waltzed on around me, with laughter and light filling the grandiose hall, a seed of disquiet settled. Someone out there was playing a dangerous game, and I was unwittingly a part of it.

My fingers brushed against the cool silk lining of my clutch as I located Evelyn through the glittering guests. I drew my personal assistant aside into the quietude of a shadowed alcove.

"Take a look at this, please." The folded paper exchanged hands with the secrecy of a covert operation. "Discreetly. We don't want any alarm."

Evelyn's eyes flickered over the note, absorbing the ominous message. Her brows knitted together before she masked her concern with an assuring smile. "Consider it done. I'll handle this."

"Thank you." Without another word, I turned back to the party, my expression once again the very portrait of composure.

The gala swirled around me in a kaleidoscope of shimmering dresses and tuxedoed grandeur. I paused, the fa?ade of the social butterfly shed, and let my eyes roam with precision across the room.

My gaze was sharp, analytical. I noted exits, servers weaving through clusters of guests with platters, the subtle bulges beneath the jackets of security personnel. My instincts, honed from years of being under the public eye, tingled with the awareness that every smile wasn't friendly and every glance could conceal ill intentions.

Damn this letter .

Just then, amid the sea of faces, one stood out—a stoic island amidst the undulating waves of conversation and laughter. A man standing near a column appeared almost like a statue carved in honor of vigilance. His posture betrayed nothing of the casual demeanor typical of the event's attendees, and his eyes, those piercing observatories, swept over the ballroom with a calculated intensity.

"Who is that?"

"Who?" Evelyn inquired, glimpsing the direction of my focused gaze. "New addition to the security detail. Jerome. Ex-military, if I'm not mistaken. He has that look."

My attention lingered on Jerome. She knew him. He was undeniably older, but he used to live down the street from me. What a small world. Here was a man whose entire being exuded a readiness to act at a moment's notice.

Does he see the world in threats and targets?

"Ms. Fields?" It was a patron reaching out with a program for an autograph.

"Of course," I said, turning my charm back on like a switch and offering my signature with a flourish.

As I turned away from the autograph seeker, my pulse quickened. With each step, the layers of my poised exterior melted away, revealing the raw curiosity beneath.

"Are you heading back to the table?" Evelyn asked.

"In a moment."

My stride was purposeful as I navigated through the clusters of guests, each step bringing me closer to the enigmatic bodyguard who had become the night's most captivating mystery.

Jerome's gaze followed my approach, unwavering and intense. It was as if he was peeling back my layers, seeing beyond the glamorous facade to the woman who fought tooth and nail for every inch of success. Yet there was no judgment in his eyes, only a quiet respect that mirrored my own.

"Mr. Dawson."

"Ms. Fields," Jerome's voice was like smooth gravel, low and reassuring. "Enjoying the evening?"

"Immensely. Though it seems we have more than just philanthropy to discuss."

Jerome's expression didn't change, but his eyes, those sharp, discerning pools of blue, hinted at a depth I was only beginning to fathom.

"Indeed."

"Walk with me, Mr. Dawson."

I started toward the terrace doors, the cool night air promising a respite from the suffocating glitz within. Jerome fell into step beside me, his presence a solid reassurance in the sea of uncertainty.

"Where are we going?" Jerome asked, though it was clear he'd follow my lead without question.

"To find some answers."

And with a final glance over my shoulder, ensuring no one was paying us undue attention, I stepped out into the night, as I walked alongside the man who might just hold the key to the darkness encroaching on my life.

Jerome pushed a door open with one hand, allowing me to step through first. I hesitated on the threshold, a momentary flicker of doubt shadowing my resolve.

"Trust me," Jerome said, meeting my gaze with an intensity that seemed to pierce my defenses.

How quickly trust becomes the currency of survival when fear lurks in familiar shadows.

"Are you okay?" His concern was clear, not just in his words, but in the way his gaze searched my face for signs of distress.

"Fine," I lied, my practiced smile slipping into place. This stranger has become my anchor in a storm I didn't see brewing. Is it simply his duty, or is there more? And why do I care?

"Fine doesn't usually involve a racing heart or shallow breaths."

"Can you blame me? My world turned upside down tonight."

"Mine too," Jerome admitted.

"Yours?"

"Keeping you safe..."

Our eyes met again, and this time, I considered the man before me. A hint of something deeper passed between us, a recognition of mutual respect... and perhaps the stirrings of attraction.

"Let's get you somewhere safe."

Side by side, we walked down the corridor, the distant sounds of the gala fading behind us. With each step, the weight of my life was shifting, transforming into something new and uncertain. Yet with Jerome beside me, that uncertainty was a little less daunting.

Whoever said change is the only constant knew exactly what they were talking about. But maybe, just maybe, some constants are worth finding—even in the midst of chaos.