Chapter 33 My Only Queen For Tonight
"Master, should we order an outside team to hack their broadcasting system?" Robert asked cautiously.
"No need!" Alaric snapped, his breath quickening as anger rose to his ears. "If we attack his servers now, the entire operational system of Blackwood Tower could go down with it. That kid knows exactly that I won't risk hurting the company's stock. Damn it, he's got me by the throat before the party even starts!"
Alaric turned back, staring at the large window showcasing Manhattan's grandeur. His huge ego was wounded because once again he was a step behind his son's genius. However, another flash of cunning appeared in his eyes.
"Let him wear his silver mask tonight, Robert," Alaric hissed with a forced thin smile.
"But make sure the Vance family and Morgan Valdez get the tables closest to the main podium. I want to see how that little bitch of his reacts when she hears her 'personal gigolo's' voice echoing through the entire hall as the ruler of New York. Let's see how well Elijah can hide the tremor in his voice in front of that woman."
Robert immediately nodded obediently, recording Alaric's orders quickly on his digital device.
"Very well, Master. I will make sure the committee rearranges the VIP seating chart. The Vance family and representatives from the Valdez residence will be placed in the front row, directly under the spotlight of the main podium," Robert said.
Of course, as a good assistant, he didn't want his volatile boss to throw another tantrum.
Alaric reached for his whiskey glass again, downing the contents until it was empty. The warm burn of alcohol seared his throat, but it was nothing compared to the irritation burning his ego.
"We'll see about that, Elijah. You can hide that handsome face of yours behind a silver mask. But you won't be able to hide the fact that the woman you adore is sitting there watching your lies come undone."
Meanwhile, time moved quickly toward seven o'clock in the evening. Inside The Azure apartment unit, Elena stood in front of her bedroom's large mirror. Ever since making the agreement with Elijah, she had decided to stay with her favorite gigolo—she didn't care about Morgan's cold, freezing mansion. She left it behind without a second thought.
Elena had already put on an elegant yet simple black silk slip dress. It clung perfectly to her curves, leaving her smooth back exposed. Around her neck was a black jewelry choker adorned with small onyx stones she had brought from the studio yesterday—a contrasting touch that made her look both graceful and mysterious.
Her makeup was intentionally sharper than usual, with dark red lipstick defining her lips.
But behind her stunning appearance, Elena's fingers intertwined anxiously. Her heart pounded every time she imagined the big names that would be at Lincoln Center tonight.
A knock at the apartment's front door snapped Elena out of her daze. She took a deep breath, grabbed her small clutch purse, and walked out of the bedroom toward the living room.
The moment the apartment door opened, Elena instantly froze in place.
Elijah was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for her. The young man had shed his plain t-shirt and flannel shirt, replaced by a three-piece black tuxedo made of premium velvet that clung perfectly to his toned body and broad shoulders. His crisp white shirt was paired with a symmetrically tied bow tie. His usually messy black hair was now neatly combed back, exposing his forehead and clean-shaven, firm jawline.
For a few seconds, silence enveloped the apartment hallway. Elena swallowed hard, her eyes unable to look away from the figure in front of her. Elijah truly looked like a prince from New York's highest aristocracy—not a man who worked at a bar.
Elijah flashed his signature sideways smile when he noticed Elena's captivation. His sapphire blue eyes sparkled with both amusement and deep appreciation as they traced Elena's appearance from head to toe.
"Long time no see, Ángel," Elijah's baritone voice sounded heavier and sexier tonight. He straightened up, stepped forward into the room, and closed the door behind him. "You look... incredibly sexy in that dress. I feel like canceling this party and locking you up here instead, then making love to you until morning."
Elena cleared her throat loudly, trying to compose herself and hide the blush spreading across her cheeks. She crossed her arms over her chest, pretending to act fierce as the 'employer.'
"Stop your nonsense, Elijah. We've only been apart for a few hours," Elena snapped, though her eyes kept glancing at the detail of the silver cufflinks on the man's shirt sleeves. "Where did you get such a luxurious tuxedo? The tailoring fits you perfectly, and the fabric—this isn't cheap off-the-rack."
Elijah chuckled lowly, stepping closer until his broad chest was almost touching the tip of Elena's nose.
"I told you, didn't I? It's all thanks to our exclusive contract. My new client on Wall Street is very generous. As soon as he found out I had to accompany you to the Gala, he lent me this suit from his personal wardrobe. He said his main assistant shouldn't look embarrassing in front of New York's public," Elijah replied, of course bragging as usual.
There was no way he could say he had just bought what he was wearing by swiping his unlimited black card at a famous boutique, right? Elena would drop dead on the spot if Elijah ever said something like that.
Elijah bent down, took Elena's hand, and kissed the back of it with a formal gesture that somehow felt extremely possessive.
"So? Is your personal bodyguard handsome enough to accompany you tonight?"
Elena pulled her hand away awkwardly, even though her heart was racing wildly. "You're too narcissistic. Let's go—the taxi must be waiting downstairs."
"We're not taking a regular taxi tonight, Babe," Elijah whispered right into Elena's ear, making the woman's hair stand on end. "A special company car loaned by my client is waiting in front of the lobby. Let's show them that you can walk in there without needing the Vance family or that damn Valdez family as your credentials."