CHAPTER TWO

ELENA

The universe was full of dark humour.

And suppose there was any question about it. In that case, I was living proof—standing in the middle of one of those rooms that smelled like money and arrogance while wearing one of those secondhand black dresses that I had repaired twice, now gazing up at this man as he was looking at me as if I was the biggest faux pas of the night.

Alexander Moretti's gaze was icy, his expression unchanging except for the taut lock of his jaw. A man like him probably never had anything spilt on him his whole life, least of all by an artist so hungry and desperate that had lost all pride by now.

Time seemed to freeze as I watched the golden liquid drip from the tip of his obscenely expensive coat, running through the material like in my worst nightmare ever in slow motion.

"I—" My breath had been taken away. Tendering an apology seemed like the most sensible thing to do. Maybe even the right thing to do.

Just as I was about to apologize, his voice cracked across the room like a whip.

"You've got to be kidding," he said

The murmurings around the room grew. I sensed the critical eyes of collectors and snobs burrowing into my skin, probably enjoying the humiliation in front of them. My heart was pumping so fast I was sure they could hear it pounding over the murmurs.

My first intuition? Run.

My second? Fling the bloody flute into his face and tell him he had it coming for looking at me like I was some nobody.

I went with neither.

So I stiffened my shoulders, swallowed my pride forcefully, and put on a smirking face. “Well, if you're looking for a dry-cleaning referral, I'm out of ideas.”

My friend Sofia, who was just beside me, stifled either a laugh or a gasp that she had barely been able to contain.

Moretti didn't respond immediately. He simply tilted his head to one side, like he was studying some particular stain that refused to get off. And I guess, figuratively speaking, that was what I was to him—a stain, a cheap impostor on his normally carefully planned evening.

His voice was composed while he was talking. Much too composed.

"Do you always enter with such splendour, or is this one just for the night?"

Heat rose up my neck. Others around me laughed, but I would not give way to the embarrassment, then I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Only when billionaires stand in my way.”

Sofia choked on her drink. Someone next to her gasped. Moretti's jaw tensed. Something flashed in his eyes for half of one second—amusement? Anger? I had no idea.

He had his mouth open and for one insane second, I thought he was going to say something unexpected.

There was a soft interruption. "Mr. Moretti?"

The submissions reception lady was standing beside him with a black folder in hand. I recognized it immediately. My portfolio.

My stomach contracted as she opened it and extended it towards him. “One of the submissions for the night, sir. A title you may wish to consider.”

I exhaled softly as Moretti glanced down, going through the pages with his expression impossible to decipher. His gaze slowly rose to mine.

There was silence for quite some time.

He snapped the folder shut. "Not interested."

The words hit me harder than they should have. Not because I had been hoping for approval but because of how he dismissed me so readily.

Like I wasn't even worth looking at again.

My chest was constricted. My hands were balled into fists. I had invested years of anguish, years of misery and my existence into every brushstroke. And with one gesture, this man had declared it useless.

Like I never existed.

Sofia caught my arm before I blurted out something uncalled for. "Come on, Lena,"

But I was frozen. Not yet.

So I gritted out a tight smile instead. "That's funny. I didn't know that billionaires are intimidated by natural ability."

A second murmur swept through the crowd in the room.

Moretti's eyebrows shot up higher, but something about his expression had changed now. A tiny flicker of curiosity. Barely enough, but enough to have my stomach churning.

"I'm not afraid," he responded with determination. "I simply have no patience for anything but the best."

I felt the burning pain in my chest but did not allow it to show. Instead, I lifted my head and assumed the most indifferent expression I could. "And yet, you wouldn’t know true art even if it stared you in the face"

Silence. Opaque and ponderous

She pulled harder. "Now. We're going."

I let her drag me with her, my hands shaking, my pride hanging on for dear life. My eyes watered as we struggled through the crowd but not because I was crying.

But from raw rage.

I barely registered the night air as we got outside, my lungs shallow, my heart racing.

Sofia turned and faced me. "What in the devil was that?"

I let out a dry laugh, shivering as the cold seeped into my skin. “That,” I said, voice sore, “was me committing career suicide.”

She groaned. "Lena-"

"I don't care," I cut in. "He can burn my portfolio for all I care."

She gazed at me for what seemed like forever, then exhaled with resignation.

Then she leaned in and hugged me. I was so close to melting away because I needed that hug. I returned the hug and she patted my back.

She pulled away after a while and said, “Alright Lena, let’s get out of here.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around myself tighter. We had taken only two steps when a black car quietly pulled up behind us on the curb. The back window came down enough for a voice to cut through the night air.

"Elena Rossi."

My body tensed up.

Alexander Moretti's voice was as soft as velvet but something sinister lay beneath it. A warning and a threat.

I slowly turned around with my heart racing. He was barely visible in the dim illumination but his presence dominated.

He held up my portfolio—the same one he had earlier refused to accept.

"You will soon hear from me."

The window rolled up. The car took off. And in one brief moment, my universe rotated on its axis.

I watched with a racing heart and stolen breaths.

Sofia elbowed me hard. "Lena. What in the world just happened?"

I had no answer.

The only thing I knew was that I had now become part of something so much bigger than I had ever enlisted for.

And now it was too late to turn back.