Spilled Wine, Stolen Glances (Part 1)

The Grand Horizon Hotel was a glittering fortress of wealth and power, its towering glass façade reflecting the city lights like a beacon of opulence. Inside, the ballroom was a sea of designer gowns, tailored suits, and the soft clink of champagne glasses. Evie moved through the crowd with her tray of drinks, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt like an imposter in her plain black dress, a relic from a life she no longer belonged to. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the murmur of voices, each one a reminder of how out of place she was.

Evie kept her head down, focusing on her task. Serve the champagne. Smile. Don't mess up. But her nerves were frayed, and her hands trembled slightly as she balanced the tray. The weight of the night pressed down on her, the memory of Sophia's taunts still fresh in her mind.

And then, she saw him.

Alexander Grant stood at the center of the room, his presence commanding attention even in a crowd of the city's elite. He was tall, his broad shoulders accentuated by a perfectly tailored black suit that screamed luxury. His dark hair was swept back, revealing sharp, aristocratic features—a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through her. His watch, a sleek silver piece that probably cost more than Evie's entire apartment, glinted under the chandelier light, a subtle reminder of the world he belonged to. Everything about him exuded confidence and control, from the way he held his glass of whiskey to the way he effortlessly commanded the room without saying a word. He was the kind of man who turned heads without trying, a living testament to the divide between their worlds.

Evie's breath hitched, and she quickly looked away, her hands tightening around the tray. She had heard of Alexander Grant, of course—everyone had. He was one of the most powerful men in the city, a billionaire CEO with a reputation for being ruthless in business and cold in person. But seeing him in the flesh was something else entirely.

She tried to focus on her work, but her mind kept drifting back to him. There was something about the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command the room without saying a word. It was intimidating, but also… intriguing.

And then, as if sensing her gaze, Alexander turned his head, his eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the noise of the room fading into the background. Evie felt a shiver run down her spine, her breath catching in her throat.

But before she could look away, the unthinkable happened.

A guest bumped into her, sending the tray of champagne glasses crashing to the floor. The sound was deafening, the shattering glass drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Evie's face burned with embarrassment as she dropped to her knees, frantically trying to clean up the mess.

And then, a pair of polished black shoes appeared in her line of vision. Evie looked up, her heart pounding, to see Alexander Grant standing over her, his expression unreadable.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

Evie nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She could feel the eyes of the room on her, the weight of their judgment pressing down on her.

Alexander crouched down, his movements graceful and deliberate. He reached out, his hand brushing against hers as he picked up a piece of broken glass. "Be careful," he said, his tone softer than she expected. "You don't want to cut yourself."

Evie's breath hitched, her mind racing. What was he doing? Why was he helping her?

But before she could respond, a sharp, mocking laugh cut through the air.

"Well, well, if it isn't Evie Lane," Sophia Harrington said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She stood a few feet away, her arm linked with a man in a tuxedo, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "I see some things never change. Still as clumsy as ever, aren't you?"

Evie's cheeks burned, but she forced herself to keep her composure. She wouldn't give Sophia the satisfaction of seeing her break.

Sophia stepped closer, her heels clicking against the marble floor. "You know, Evie, I always thought you'd end up serving drinks at some dive bar, but this? This is a new low, even for you."

The crowd around them began to murmur, their eyes flickering between Evie and Sophia. Evie felt like a spectacle, a sideshow for their amusement. She wanted to disappear, to melt into the floor and never come back.

But then, Alexander stood, his gaze shifting from Evie to Sophia. His expression was cold, his voice sharp as a blade. "Is there a problem here?"

Sophia's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered, her tone syrupy sweet. "Oh, no problem at all, Mr. Grant. I was just catching up with an old friend. Isn't that right, Evie?"

Evie didn't respond, her eyes fixed on the floor. She could feel the weight of Alexander's gaze on her, but she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Leave," Alexander said, his voice cutting through the tension like a whip. "Now."

Sophia's eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she might argue. But then she nodded, her smile tight. "Of course, Mr. Grant. Have a lovely evening."

As Sophia walked away, the crowd began to disperse, their whispers fading into the background. Evie remained on the floor, her hands trembling as she picked up the last of the broken glass.

Alexander crouched down again, his movements slow and deliberate. He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the glass from her hand. "You don't belong here," he said, his voice low and steady.

Evie's heart sank, her cheeks burning with shame. She knew she didn't belong here, but hearing it from him—someone who seemed to embody everything she wasn't—felt like a knife to the chest.

But then, he surprised her.

"You're too good for this," he said, his tone softer now. "You shouldn't have to clean up after people like them."

Evie looked up, her eyes meeting his for the first time. There was something in his gaze—something she couldn't quite place. It wasn't pity, exactly, but it wasn't indifference either. It was… understanding.

Before she could respond, Alexander stood, his expression once again unreadable. "Go home," he said, his voice firm but not unkind. "You've had enough for one night."

Evie nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She stood, her legs shaky beneath her, and turned to leave. But as she walked away, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end. Something had shifted, something she couldn't quite put into words.

And as she stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn't help but wonder what Alexander Grant had seen in her—and what it meant for the future