THE PERFECT STORM
~CLAIRE’S POV~
“Claire, darling, I would like you to meet Alexander Hayes.” Eleanor’s voice carried across the marble foyer like a bell, but I barely heard her.
I was still staring at the man whose hands had just been on my waist, whose business card was burning a hole in my purse.
“We’ve already met,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Eleanor’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows shot up. “Have you now? How delightfully… unexpected.”
Alexander’s laugh was rich and warm, the sound making my skin tingle. “Eleanor, you’re always trying to play matchmaker. Though I have to admit, your instincts are impeccable.”
My eyes widened. “Matchmaker?”
Eleanor patted Alexander’s cheek with the closeness of an old friend. “Well, if you did not go around Manhattan breaking girls’ hearts, I wouldn’t be forced to intervene, would I?”
The simple closeness between them sent warning bells through my head. “I don’t understand what’s….”
“Eleanor!” A voice called from across the room. “There you are!”
Eleanor squeezed my arm gently. “I’m afraid duty calls, darling. But Alexander will take excellent care of you.” She fixed him with a pointed look. “Won’t you, Alexander? And I do mean excellent care. This one is special.”
Before I could protest, she was gliding away, leaving me alone with the man who was supposed to be my salvation.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Alexander observed, his green eyes dancing with amusement.
“Eleanor…..” I started to call after her, but she had already disappeared into the crowd.
“I’m offended you’re so desperate to escape my company.”
I turned back to him, my heart hammering.
The truth was, I did not trust myself around him. His reputation preceded him, and Eleanor’s obvious matchmaking had thrown my carefully laid plans into chaos.
I had not come here to find love.
My heart, as painfully as I hated to admit it, still belonged to Richard. I wanted power. I wanted revenge.
I wanted Richard to suffer for every cruel word, every dismissive glance, every moment he had made me feel like my love was suffocating.
I wanted him to regret choosing Monica over me.
But I was not ready to move on. I was not ready to give my heart to anyone else. My love for Richard was consuming—if not careful, it would ruin me.
But I would bear it.
“Champagne?” Alexander appeared at my elbow, holding two flutes of golden liquid.
I hesitated.
Richard had never offered me drinks at parties.
He had barely acknowledged my existence once he got caught up in business talk or schmoozing with investors.
The one time I had tried to get his attention, he had scolded me so harshly that I had wanted to disappear.
The memory still stung.
I had tried associating with other guests, but the women wanted nothing to do with me, and the men… well, they listened, but their interest had nothing to do with what I was saying.
The night everything changed flashed through my mind. A man had grabbed my waist inappropriately. I had slapped him.
Instead of defending me, Richard had been furious—at me.
“You were flaunting yourself,” he had hissed in the car afterward. “Acting like a slut while your husband was right there.”
He had not touched me for a month after that. Called me names. Made me feel like I was nothing.
“Earth to Claire.” Alexander’s voice pulled me back to the present.
“Sorry.” I accepted the champagne, taking a full sip to steady my nerves.
“Impressive liquid tolerance.” His smile was approving, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks.
Looking around the room, I noticed the stares.
The whispers.
The two women from the bathroom were glaring at me openly, one mouthing “gold digger whore” in my direction.
I should have been used to this. Should have developed thicker skin. But the truth was, I had come here to catch a rich man to fund my revenge.
I was ready to use any means necessary, even if it meant being called names.
As long as I got what I wanted.
As long as I brought Richard to his knees.
Alexander must have noticed my discomfort because he glanced around, taking in the nasty stares.


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