[BL] Bound to My Enemy: The Billionaire Who Took My Girl-Chapter 126: The gala

NOAH

The venue was the Llotja de Mar, a historic building that looked like a fortress of marble and prestige. The grand ballroom was lit by massive crystal chandeliers that cast a shimmering light over the hundreds of guests already milling about.

Outside, the red carpet was a chaotic sea of flashbulbs and shouting.

"Mr. Hendrix! Over here!"

"Alex, can we get a statement on the Wolfe-Hendrix merger?"

I slipped out of the car and moved quickly past the media line. I was just another face in a suit, a shadow in the wake of the giants. No one called my name. No one thrust a microphone in my face. I preferred it that way.

Inside, the opulence was overwhelming. The air buzzed with the hum of power, money, and influence. Men in tuxedos that cost more than my first car laughed with women in gowns that flowed like liquid silk. A string quartet played somewhere in the distance, the music struggling to be heard over the cacophony of elite socialization.

I felt like I was drowning in it. I felt out of place, as if my "costume" was transparent and everyone could see the terrified person underneath.

I navigated the room like I was walking through a minefield, looking for a designated spot. What was my role tonight? As the executive liaison, I should be coordinating something, but Alex had handled the logistics so thoroughly there was nothing left for me to do but exist.

I found a relatively quiet corner near the mahogany bar. A server passed by with a silver tray of champagne. I took a glass, not because I wanted to drink, but because I needed something to hold. It gave my hands a purpose. I stood there, watching the room, trying to look as though I was waiting for someone important.

Across the expanse of the ballroom, I saw him. Alex was in his element, a shark in a tuxedo. He was surrounded by a phalanx of investors and local politicians, charming them with effortless grace. He looked up, his eyes scanning the crowd with a practiced precision until they landed on me.

He smiled... a genuine, warm expression that stood out in this room of plastic grins. He gestured for me to come over.

I pointed to myself, my eyebrows raised. Me?

He nodded, beckoning again, more insistent this time. My stomach dropped. I didn’t want the attention. I didn’t want to be introduced as a "protégé" or whatever label he was going to slap on me tonight. But I couldn’t refuse. Not with so many eyes watching.

I took a stabilizing breath and walked toward the center of the room. Each step felt like I was walking further out onto a thin sheet of ice.

As I reached the group, Alex reached out and placed his hand on the small of my back. It was warm, steady, and felt uncomfortably possessive, pulling me into the circle of power.

"Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Noah Bennett," Alex said, his voice smooth and projecting confidence. "He’s been absolutely instrumental in the conceptual phase of this project. One of the most hardworking assistant I’ve had the pleasure of working with."

The men turned to me, their gazes assessing and cold. One of them, a distinguished man with silver hair and a heavy watch, squinted at me. "Bennett? Are you related to Dr. Nicholas Bennett?"

My chest tightened. The shadow of my brother followed me even across the Atlantic. "He’s... my brother," I said, my voice sounding thin to my own ears.

"Ah! Wonderful! That man saved the Vice President’s wife during that gala in D.C.," the man beamed. "Your family must be very proud."

I forced a tight smile. "Yes. Very proud."

Alex’s hand shifted slightly on my back, a firm pressure. "Noah will be working very closely with me moving forward. I hope. He makes a very interesting contribution."

The way he said it... the weight he put on the words... implied something far more personal than a job description. The men exchanged knowing glances, their smiles turning a bit more feline. I felt like a prize being displayed.

"How fortunate for you, Alex," another investor chuckled, raising his glass. "To successful partnerships."

They toasted. I lifted my glass mechanically, but I still couldn’t bring myself to take a sip. My skin felt like it was crawling where Alex’s hand touched me.

Suddenly, the energy in the room shifted. It was like a physical wave, starting at the entrance and rolling toward the center of the ballroom. The polite chatter died down, replaced by a frantic, electric hum.

The cameras near the door began to flash with staccato violence. Reporters surged forward, their voices rising in a desperate chorus.

"Mr. Wolfe!"

"Cassian! Over here!"

"Can you comment on the rumors circulating about a battle of inheritance between you and your brother?"

My heart didn’t just stop; it felt like it had been seized by an icy hand. My lungs refused to expand. I turned toward the entrance, unable to stop myself, unable to look away.

And there he was.

Cassian Wolfe walked through the grand entrance like he was stepping onto a battlefield he had already won. He wore a black three-piece suit that was so perfectly tailored it looked like it had been molded to his frame. It was sharp, devastating, and entirely black, making him look like a shadow carved out of stone.

His hair was slicked back, his jawline like a razor. There was no sign of the man I had seen in the hospital room... no trace of the cuts, the blood, or the exhaustion. He looked untouchable.

The crowd parted for him automatically, a natural deference shown to a predator. He didn’t acknowledge the reporters or the flashing lights. He simply walked, his gait steady and confident, flanked by a silent wall of security. He ignored the shouted questions about his health as if they were nothing more than the buzzing of flies.

I couldn’t breathe. I stood there, frozen in the middle of Alex’s circle, a champagne glass trembling in my hand. Cassian scanned the room, his gaze indifferent to the hundreds of people vying for his attention. He was looking for something. He was looking for someone.

His eyes found mine.

Across the crowded ballroom, through the sea of silk and expensive cologne, our gazes locked. For a split second, the noise of the quartet and the murmur of the crowd vanished. The world narrowed down to just him and me.

That same electric tension... the pull that always existed between us... snapped back into place, stronger than ever. It was a physical force, a gravity that threatened to pull me toward him.

His expression remained unreadable, a mask of cold professional distance, but his eyes... something flickered in the depths of that blue. A flash of something raw, something possessive, and something that looked dangerously like anger.

Alex’s hand tightened on my back, the pressure bringing me back to the suffocating reality of the circle.

"Looks like he made it after all," Alex said, his voice quiet and close to my ear. There was a sharp edge to his tone, something competitive and cold that I had never heard before.

I forced myself to look away from Cassian, focusing on the bubbles in my glass. I could still feel it, though... the heat of his gaze burning into the side of my face, marking me even from across the room.