Chapter 4 How Much Am I Worth?

My mind went completely blank. Why was someone here? How could it be him?

I stood frozen in the doorway, steam still rising around the bathroom like morning fog, watching this man who seemed to belong in shadows suddenly illuminated under the bright white light. The same deep, unwavering eyes that had watched me from across Marcus's room just last night.

"I'm sorry," I finally managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't know anyone was in here. I didn't mean to intrude."

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I quickly pulled the door shut and practically fled back to the main room. My heart was hammering so loud I was sure everyone in the building could hear it.

In the hallway, I nearly collided with what looked like a staff member carrying a pristine suit on a hanger. He paused to nod politely at me before disappearing into the same room I'd just escaped from.

I should have kept walking. Should have left immediately and pretended this whole embarrassing encounter never happened. Instead, I found myself slowing down, then stopping completely in the middle of the corridor like some kind of stalker.

The staff member emerged a few minutes later, closing the door carefully behind him.

"Excuse me," I called out before I could stop myself. "Who's in there?"

He glanced back toward the room. "A friend of our director's. Got his clothes dirty nearby and needed somewhere to change. We're always happy to help valued clients."

I nodded, trying to look casual while my pulse raced. The employee hurried away, leaving me standing there like an idiot in my half-finished makeup and styling robe.

The door opened again. This time, I got a proper look at him.

God, he was stunning.

In the harsh light of Marcus's party and the chaotic steam of the bathroom, I hadn't really seen him clearly. But now, standing in the soft afternoon light filtering through the studio windows, he was almost overwhelming to look at.

Sharp cheekbones carved his face with precision, while thick dark brows framed those penetrating eyes I remembered. His nose was straight and aristocratic, his lips full but masculine. Everything about his face was perfectly balanced, like someone had carefully designed every feature.

He'd changed into the fresh suit, and it fit him like it had been made specifically for his body. The crisp white shirt stretched across broad shoulders and a lean torso, while the charcoal gray jacket emphasized his height and elegant posture. He looked like he'd stepped off the cover of a men's fashion magazine.

Compared to the dangerous, almost primitive energy he'd radiated wearing nothing but a towel, this version of him seemed refined, controlled, untouchable.

When his gaze found mine, I felt my stomach flip.

"I'm so sorry about earlier," I said quickly, the words tumbling over each other. "I was so embarrassed. I had no idea anyone was using that room."

"It's fine." His voice was low, cultured, with just a hint of amusement that made my cheeks burn even hotter.

I smiled awkwardly, completely at a loss for what to say next. We stood there in silence for a moment that felt like an eternity.

Then he stepped closer.

I held my breath as his hand moved toward my face. For one wild second, I thought he might touch my cheek, and my heart practically stopped beating.

Instead, his fingers brushed against my left earlobe. The sapphire earring slipped free and landed gently in his palm.

"Your earring was loose," he said simply, extending his hand toward me.

The gesture was oddly intimate for two strangers who'd met under such bizarre circumstances. But he did it so naturally, with such calm confidence, that it didn't feel inappropriate at all.

I quickly took the earring and fumbled to put it back on, acutely aware that he was watching my every movement.

"Thank you,"

His gaze dropped to my hands, lingering for just a moment on my ring finger. I saw the exact second he noticed the pale band of skin where my wedding ring usually sat, the telltale mark of a married woman who'd taken it off.

Something shifted in his expression, becoming even more unreadable than before. He stepped back, clearly preparing to leave.

"Wait!" The word burst out of me before I could think it through. "Sir, would you be interested in attending a charity dinner with me tonight?"

He paused, his back already half-turned toward me.

"So," he said after a moment, his voice carrying that same subtle amusement, "how much do you plan to pay for me?"

The question hit me like a punch to the stomach. Oh God. He'd heard my phone conversation with the escort service.

My face turned bright red with shame. Here I was, asking this clearly wealthy, well-dressed man to be my date right after failing to book a male escort. He must think I was trying to hire him for the evening.

Looking at him now, taking in his perfectly fitted clothes and confident way of carrying himself, I realized how silly my invitation must sound. Everything about him screamed money and class, from his expensive-looking shoes to the fancy watch on his wrist.

I opened my mouth to explain, to tell him that I wasn't trying to buy his company for the evening, but he spoke first.

"I'm kidding." The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "Sorry, I have other plans tonight."

It was a polite rejection wrapped in humor, giving me an easy way out of my embarrassment.

I exhaled slowly, grateful for his grace. "Of course. I hope you have a lovely evening."

He nodded once and walked away, his footsteps echoing softly down the corridor until he disappeared around the corner.

I stood there for a long moment, watching the empty space where he'd been, before finally forcing myself back to the styling room.

---

Forty minutes later, I was standing in the grand ballroom of the Vale Hotel, trying not to let my nerves show.

The charity dinner was always one of the biggest social events of the season. Westborough had its share of wealthy families, but everyone knew the real power lay with the Big Four: the Vales, the Blackwoods, the Ashfords, and the Sterlings. The Vale family had once been the undisputed kings of the city, but two generations of weak leadership had left them struggling to maintain their position.

Still, tonight's event would draw every important person in the city.

The ballroom was magnificent, all crystal chandeliers and gold accents, with round tables draped in pristine white linens. As Mrs. Blackwood, I'd been seated at one of the premium tables near the front, a position that put me directly in the spotlight.

I rarely attended events like this, so most people didn't recognize me immediately. But as I took my seat, I could feel eyes on me, hear the whispered conversations starting.

"Who is that woman? I don't think I've seen her before."

"Look at those sapphire earrings. Aren't those the ones from the Sotheby's auction three years ago?"

"Wait, those belonged to the Blackwood family. That means she's..."

"Damien Blackwood's wife? But I thought she never appeared in public."

"Didn't everyone say she was plain? That doesn't look plain to me."

I kept my expression serene as a waiter filled my wine glass, pretending I couldn't hear every word. Let them talk. Tonight was about making an impression, and it seemed I was succeeding.

I'd just lifted my glass when I noticed a sudden change in the atmosphere. The staff around the room straightened, their casual chatter stopping mid-sentence. Even the waiters seemed to move with more purpose.

"Mr. Vale is here," I heard one of them whisper to a colleague.

Mr. Vale? That was strange. At this time, voices filled the fancy ballroom. I heard pieces of their conversations, each word cutting deep.

"Did you hear? The third Vale boy has finally come back to town. They say he might show up at tonight's charity event."

A woman in a green dress moved closer to her friend, lowering her voice. "A third Vale son? Really? I've been coming to these parties for years and never heard about him."

"Poor kid has been sick since he was little. The family sent him away to those expensive hospitals. He's never been here before now."

Another woman joined in, her voice fake and sweet. "What a shame. I thought the Vale family might have another strong son to take over the business. Turns out he's just weak and sickly."

"If that boy was any good, old Mr. Vale would have brought him back to help run the cattle ranch years ago. No way they would have left him in some hospital all this time."

"I'm telling you, the great Vale family is falling apart without anyone strong enough to lead it."

But as I looked around the room, I could see the ripple effect of someone important arriving. Conversations paused, heads turned, and there was an almost electric tension in the air.

I followed everyone's gaze toward the main entrance.

A figure emerged from the crowd of arriving guests, and the entire ballroom seemed to shift its focus.

He was tall and commanding, moving through the room with the kind of confidence that comes from being born to power. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and he wore an impeccably tailored three-piece suit that probably cost more than most people's cars. Several men in expensive suits flanked him, clearly executives or advisors.

But it wasn't just his obvious wealth or status that drew every eye in the room. It was the way he carried himself. Like he owned not just the hotel, but the entire city. Like everyone else was simply part of the scenery in his world.

As he moved deeper into the ballroom, I found myself holding my breath, caught up in the same magnetic pull that had captured everyone else's attention.

The mysterious heir everyone whispered about. The Vale family's secret weapon, finally making his public debut.

And something about the elegant line of his shoulders, the confident set of his head, seemed almost familiar.