Chapter 2 - The Escape
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The flashbulbs erupted into a blinding, continuous strobe light the moment Vanessa disappeared through the mahogany doors. The shock had worn off, and the press smelled blood in the water. Reporters surged forward, abandoning their assigned perimeter, microphones thrusting dangerously close to Ethan’s wheelchair.
"Mr. Whitfield! Is the engagement officially off?"
"Who is the mystery woman, Ethan?"
Grace shrank back, the sudden onslaught of noise and aggressive energy making her heart hammer frantically against her ribs. She was used to being invisible. She was the woman who buffed the marble floors and steamed the Italian silk suits. She was never meant to be the center of a media circus.
"Marcus," Ethan commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos with the practiced authority of a CEO.
Instantly, a wall of broad-shouldered men in dark suits materialized. Marcus, Ethan’s head of security, stepped in front of Grace, using his massive frame to shield her from the cameras.
"We are leaving. Secure the service elevator," Ethan ordered, his hands moving smoothly to the controls of his chair.
"Yes, Mr. Whitfield. Miss, please stay close to me," Marcus said, placing a heavy, protective hand hovering just behind Grace’s shoulder.
They moved quickly through the kitchen corridors, the stark fluorescent lights a jarring contrast to the golden glamour of the ballroom. Grace’s borrowed black dress felt restrictive, and her cheap heels clicked frantically against the linoleum.
"I'm going to be fired," Grace whispered to herself, the panic finally catching up to her as they reached the underground parking garage. "Oh God, the agency is going to terminate me for assaulting a guest."
Ethan stopped his chair before the armored SUV. He turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto her terrified face.
"You are not going to be fired, Grace," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You protected me when my own security was looking the other way. You are riding back with me."
"But my coat—"
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"I will buy you a hundred coats," Ethan interrupted softly. "Get in the car."
Marcus opened the heavy door, and Grace climbed into the plush leather interior. As the SUV pulled out into the rainy Manhattan night, Grace looked at the billionaire sitting beside her. He wasn't looking at his phone or barking orders. He was looking at her, studying her face as if he were seeing her for the very first time.
