The room sparkles like a fairy tale. It's filled with people dressed in shiny clothes, talking and laughing. Everywhere I look, I see chandeliers that sprinkle light, making the whole place shine. I feel a little out of place in my simple black dress. But I'm here for work, not for fun.
I’m Emma Carter. I’m a journalist, and tonight, I’m covering a story about this big charity gala. I take a deep breath and remind myself that I belong here. I have a job to do.
As I walk through the crowd, holding a small notebook, I notice a figure standing by a tall window. He’s sipping a drink, looking like he just walked out of a fashion magazine. People seem to gather around him, but he's a little apart from the noise, watching everything with sharp eyes.
That’s Alex Thornton, the billionaire. He's the host of this event, and from what I've read, he’s always surrounded by mystery. He doesn’t seem to notice me at all, which is probably a good thing. My plan is to stay in the background, take my notes, and leave.
Tonight’s charity event is a big deal. Everyone who's anyone is here. But I’m not here for the glitz and glamor. I’m here to write about where all the money from tonight is going, and if Alex Thornton is really as interesting as everyone says.
“Hey, Emma!” a voice calls out. It’s Sharon, my colleague. She looks impressed as her eyes dart around the room. “Isn’t this place amazing?”
I nod, though I feel a bit overwhelmed. “Yeah, amazing,” I say, but my mind is more on how these people live in a world so different from mine.
Sharon gestures toward the tall man by the window. “Have you talked to him yet?”
“No,” I reply quickly, shaking my head. “Not yet. I’m hoping I won’t have to.” Alex Thornton might be the center of attention, but he’s not exactly approachable.
As if he heard us, Alex suddenly looks over. Our eyes meet, just for a second, but it's enough to make my heart skip. Those eyes seem to see everything.
I look away first, pretending to write something in my notebook. I can still feel Sharon’s eyes on me, smiling knowingly. “You should try,” she teases.
I snort at her words. “I’m just here to listen and learn, not to get lost in some ridiculous fairy tale,” I reply.
The evening passes in a blur of conversations. Waiters glide around with trays of tiny, fancy foods that I can barely identify. I listen to people, jot down quotes, and almost forget about the tall man by the window, though I catch myself glancing his way more than once.
Finally, the moment I both dreaded and anticipated arrives. There's a hush over the room as Alex steps up to speak. His voice is deep and smooth, like he’s used to talking to crowds. He welcomes everyone and thanks them for their generosity. His words are careful, polished, but there’s something hidden beneath them, like a secret.
As he finishes, he looks across the room, right where I stand. For a moment, I think he's going to walk over, but then a group of important-looking people surrounds him. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
The gala continues, but I can’t help thinking about Alex. There's a mystery to him, something that makes me want to understand more about who he really is.
“Emma,” Sharon whispers, nudging me. “He’s coming.”
I blink and look around. Alex is approaching, weaving through the crowd like he's on a mission. And his eyes are fixed on me.
“Oh no,” I mutter under my breath. This isn’t part of the plan.
When he stops in front of me, I quickly straighten my back. Up close, Alex Thornton is even more intimidating. He has an air of confidence that fills the space around us.
“Emma Carter, right?” he asks, a small smile playing on his lips. His voice has a teasing edge that makes my cheeks flush.
“Yes,” I manage to say, holding out my hand. “I’m here to write about the event.”
He shakes my hand warmly, his grip firm but not crushing. “I’ve heard about your work,” he says, eyes thoughtful. “You like to write about the truth, don’t you?”
It's a simple question, but it carries weight. “That’s what I aim for,” I reply, meeting his gaze head-on.
He nods, looking around the room. “This world might seem like a fairy tale, but there’s more beneath the surface.”
I blink at him, a bit surprised. His words echo my own thoughts. “Sometimes the real story is in the details,” I agree.
He looks back at me, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only ones in the room. “I’ve been called worse things than a fairy tale,” he says with a wry smile.
I smile back, feeling more at ease. Maybe Alex Thornton isn’t just the man behind the money. Maybe there’s more to discover here.
“Enjoy the evening, Ms. Carter,” Alex says as he steps back, the crowd swallowing him up once more.
I watch him go, my notebook forgotten in my hand. I have a feeling this assignment might turn into something far more interesting than I expected.
