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Chapter 228
Madison
Our table was filled with other guests, including a retired judge and his wife, a neurosurgeon from Mount Sinai Hospital, and a young tech entrepreneur who kept stealing glances at Alexander throughout the appetizer
course.
Outside, lightning flashed, followed by the low rumble of thunder. The rain had started in earnest, pelting against the ballroom’s massive windows.
“Quite the storm,” the judge’s wife commented, looking concerned. “I hope it doesn’t affect the power.”
The first course was served, a delicate salad with roasted beets and goat cheese, as Richard Wilson took the stage to welcome everyone.
“Distinguished guests, friends, and generous supporters of the Wilson Foundation,” he began, his voice booming through the microphone. “Thank you for braving this inclement weather to join us tonight.”
As if on cue, another flash of lightning illuminated the room, followed by a crash of thunder that made several guests jump.
“Even the heavens are applauding our cause,” Richard joked, earning polite laughter.
Under the table, Alexander’s hand found my knee again, his thumb tracing small circles against my skin. I tried to focus on Richard’s speech about the foundation’s accomplishments over the past year, but Alexander’s touch was incredibly distracting.
His hand inched higher, fingers teasing along my inner thigh. I shot him a warning look, which he returned with an innocent expression that didn’t match his wandering hand at all.
‘…and thanks to generous donors like Alexander Knight,” Richard continued, gesturing toward our table.
Alexander removed his hand to acknowledge the mention with a polite nod, and I used the opportunity to cross my legs, effectively blocking his access. He gave me a look that clearly said “later” before returning his attention to the stage.
The speeches continued through the main course, a perfectly cooked filet mignon with truffle mashed potatoes. A woman from the research department detailed their progress on a promising new cancer treatment, followed by a heart–wrenching testimonial from a mother whose child had benefited from the foundation’s pediatric
program.
“You’re a regular donor?” I asked Alexander quietly during a brief pause between speakers.
He nodded. “For the past seven years. Their pediatric oncology research is particularly impressive.”
There was something in his voice, a hint of emotion that seemed personal rather than professional. I wanted to ask more but sensed it wasn’t the right time or place.
After dinner came the fundraising portion of the evening, with Richard encouraging guests to “dig deep” for the cause. Pledge cards circulated around the tables as a video presentation showcased the foundation’s goals for the coming year.
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Alexander filled out his card without hesitation, the number of zeros making my eyes widen. He caught my expression and shrugged slightly. “It’s for a good cause.”
The formal part of the evening concluded, and guests began to mingle again as dessert was served. The storm outside had intensified, rain lashed against the windows, while lightning periodically illuminated the night sky.
“Shall we circulate?” Alexander suggested, standing and offering me his hand.
We moved through the crowd, stopping to chat with various people. Alexander was in his element, charming and commanding in equal measure. I watched him work the room, noting how people responded to him with respect, admiration, and often a touch of fear.
“Alexander Knight,” a silky female voice called. “I thought that was you.”
A striking woman with auburn hair approached us, her emerald green dress shimmering under the chandeliers.
“Megan,” Alexander greeted her with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I didn’t know you were back in New York.”
“Just for the weekend,” she replied, her gaze sliding to me with open curiosity. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Madison Harper, this is Megan Taylor. We’ve known each other for years.”
“Since college,” Megan clarified, extending her hand to me. “Alexander and I have quite a history.”
The way she emphasized “history” made it clear what kind of relationship they’d had.
“Lovely to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand briefly.
“Madison is my personal assistant and project manager,” Alexander explained, his tone neutral.
Megan’s perfectly shaped eyebrows rose slightly. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
I felt my cheeks flush, but Alexander’s expression remained impassive.
“How’s David?” he asked, changing the subject.
Megan’s smile faltered slightly. “Busy as always. He couldn’t make it tonight–some crisis at the London office.
“Send him my regards,” Alexander said smoothly. “If you’ll excuse us, I see someone I need to speak with.”
He guided me away with a firm hand at my waist.
“Another ex?” I asked quietly once we were out of earshot.
“Briefly, in college,” he confirmed. “Nothing serious.”
“She seemed to think it was.”
A faint smile crossed his lips. “Megan has a tendency to rewrite history to suit her narrative.”
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We continued our circuit of the room, stopping to speak with several more people. I noticed a pattern in how Alexander introduced me always as his assistant and project manager, always professional, never hinting at
our arrangement.
It was exactly what we’d agreed upon, so why did it bother me? The answer was uncomfortable: because I wanted to be more than an arrangement to him. The realization hit me with surprising force.
A particularly loud crack of thunder shook the building, and the lights flickered momentarily. Several guests gasped, conversations pausing as everyone glanced upward.
“Quite the storm,” I murmured, watching as rain lashed against the windows with increasing fury.
“Just a little atmospheric drama,” Alexander replied, his voice calm despite the tempest outside. “Nothing to worry about.”
I was about to respond when a familiar figure appeared at Alexander’s side. Caroline materialized as if summoned by the lightning, her perfect smile gleaming as she threw her arms around Alexander in an enthusiastic hug.
“Alexander! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” she exclaimed, pressing herself against him.
Alexander returned the hug with one arm, his hand barely touching her back before quickly dropping away. Caroline, however, seemed determined to maintain physical contact, her hand lingering on his arm even after they separated.
“Caroline,” he said, his tone polite but cooler than the champagne. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Isn’t it wonderful?” she gushed, her fingers trailing down his sleeve. “I swear, we’re destined to keep running into each other. The universe is trying to tell us something.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The universe wasn’t responsible for Caroline’s sudden appearances–her obsessive tracking of Alexander’s schedule was.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
