Chapter 51: You Came

Chapter 51: You Came
EVANGELINE

I stare at the words on the small card, trying to understand.

“If you’re ready, get in.”

Why do I feel like he’s not talking about getting into the car? And why at 10 p.m. if the official invitation says 9 p.m.?

I sigh, dropping the card onto the table.

What does he want from me? This invitation makes no sense after what happened between us.

Thankfully, there’s nothing obligating e to accept since we finished the feature. Other than the fact that he’s helping me, it might seem a little ungrateful of me not to show up.

But even if it’s a professional event, I have to keep my distance.

Was everyone invited? That would complicate things. Maybe I should check.

Pulling my phone from the bag on the island, I stare at Tess’s contact, hesitant.

I just need to focus on the invitation.

I press the call button.

“Hey?” she answers on the second ring. “Did you get home?”

“Hey… Yeah, I’m home. What about you? Are you ready for your date yet?”

“I just got out of the shower. What do you need?”

“It’s nothing important... I just wanted to check if you got an invitation.”

“An invitation to what?”

I guess that’s a no.

“Hmm... It’s from Volkov Industries…”

“You mean Aleksander.”

“It’s for a dinner about the new partnership or something.”

“And you want to know if he invited all the employees or just you.”

“I just… don’t know why he invited me.”

She scoffs.

“Well, I think you know exactly why… But if you want, I can ask Charles, since those events are usually only for upper management.”

“That’s not necessary. I wasn’t considering going.”

“You’re joking, right? You have to go.”

“No. I don’t.”

“You’re really going to miss the chance to be around the big bosses?”

“Don’t even try, okay? I already made my decision.”

“Eve…”

“Enjoy your date. Love you! Bye!” I hang up.

It’s not like I didn’t know she would do exactly that.

Grabbing my bag, I head upstairs, trying to ignore the idea that there won’t be anyone guarding the house tonight.

✻ ✻ ✻

I glide the dusty rose lipstick over the traces of red I just removed.

Better this way.

I put it back in my bag and check if I unplugged the curling iron. When I look at the mirror again, I notice a strand less wavy than the rest and try to fix it by curling it around my finger.

As I do, hesitant brown eyes stare back at me.

What am I doing?

I let go of the strand; my heart restless.

I shouldn’t go, but I need to understand what this invitation means.

And the truth is that, even knowing it’s wrong, I want to see him again.

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I rise from the vanity, considering taking the dress off.

This is insane. It’s just a professional dinner. Maybe he won’t even pay attention to me, too busy with the other guests.

Then why go?

My gaze shifts back to the vanity, focusing on the black envelope resting on top of it. I remember the words on the card.

I’m ready.

✽

My heart is racing as I walk toward the car. Grant’s presence beside it is the only thing that reassures me.

“Miss Sinclair,” he says with a brief nod before opening the door for me.

“Good evening, Grant,” I greet before getting in.

While he walks around to get into the car, I settle into the seat and fasten my seatbelt.

Restless, I gather the courage to ask and clear my throat to get his attention. He looks at me through the mirror.

“Can you tell me where we’re going?” I ask as he starts the car.

“To Mr. Volkov’s residence.”

“Oh…” I blink, taking that in. “Thank you.” I turn my attention back to the car window, feeling a different kind of nervousness growing in my stomach.

To his house…

So… Aleksander lives in Bedford.

I don’t know the place. I don’t even know where it is. But somehow, it makes sense.

As Grant drives down the road, leaving Sleepy Hollow behind, the streets become emptier and the trees denser.

I try to distract myself from my own thoughts so I don’t make my nervousness worse, and at some point, after we pass Thornwood, I realize I no longer have any idea where we are.

The trees take over the landscape again, and, in some stretches, the only light comes from the car’s headlights. Houses appear only occasionally, hidden among the trees, sometimes set back from the road.

“We’re almost there,” Grant informs me the moment we pass a sign marking a dead-end street.

I take a deep breath, trying to ignore the irony.

A little farther ahead, a small wooden fence appears along the side of the road before giving way to another metal one with stone pillars and, finally, a gate.

But it’s the massive structure behind it that leaves me speechless.

Surrounded by dense trees and illuminated in a way that seems calculated to emphasize its perfect symmetry, it looks almost unreal against the darkness.

While Grant waits for a car to leave through the gate, I notice how the small lights line the main entrance, where a line of vehicles waits to leave the property.

Wait… are they all leaving already?

Passing through the gate, Grant drives between the other cars, making my nervousness surge.

I think it’s too late to back out now.

After circling the central fountain, he stops in front of the long main staircase.

Without giving me time to prepare myself, he gets out of the car and walks around to open the door for me.

I hesitate for a moment, feeling my heart pound before stepping out.

“Mr. Volkov is expecting you,” Grant says, gesturing toward the entrance after closing the door.

I nod, forcing my legs to move when he starts climbing the staircase.

On the way, two men coming down make me glance away from Grant’s back for a moment, and when I reach him at the top of the staircase, once again, I freeze.

It isn’t necessary to walk through the glass doors to see the imposing entrance hall ahead, where two symmetrical staircases rise from the sides of the space, leading to a second level. But what truly catches my attention is what’s above them, the immense curved glass structure dominating the ceiling.

I can barely tear my eyes away, but I’m forced to when Grant stops in the center of the hall.

“Wait here. Mr. Volkov will be with you shortly,” he instructs.

“Thank you, Grant.”

He nods before leaving me alone.

Just me and the discomfort in my stomach.

I try to distract myself by watching the few remaining guests in the room ahead.

I follow a waiter crossing the space with a tray.

All of this… the atmosphere, the house… I don’t think I could feel more out of place. I don’t belong here.

But I already knew that.

I don’t know why I came.

“You came.” The deep, familiar voice sounds behind me, making my entire body stiffen.