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My fingers tightened around the clutch. It was heavier than usual. Nikolaos had insisted that I carry a gun for my safety. He’d even taken the time to teach me how to use it.
I thought it was a bit much, but truthfully having it made both of us feel better.
As I gave myself a final once over in the mirror, I felt ready.
Ready to represent the Kaligaris family, ready to stand up to the Secretary-General, and ready to shape the future for myself and Nikolaos.
With a final, determined glance in the mirror, I turned and made my way downstairs and out the front door. Stepping into the waiting limo, I took a deep, calming breath, steadying myself for the night ahead.
When the limo pulled up to the venue of the charity ball, I pulled my shoulders back and made myself the perfect picture of bold confidence. Stepping onto the red carpet, I was immediately engulfed in the bright lights and the loud clammer of the crowd. I could feel the eyes of all the attendees on me, curious and speculative. Honestly, it was a little daunting, but I didn’t let it show.
Immediately, a throng of paparazzi swarmed around me, their cameras flashing.
“Maci! Over here! Can we see the ring?” one of them called out.
I smiled and held up my hand, allowing the cameras to capture the sparkling glint of the diamond. “It’s quite something, isn’t it?” I said, my voice tinged with excitement.
“Is there a wedding date set?” another shouted.
I replied coyly, “Let’s just say it will be a grand affair. You’ll have to wait and see.” We hadn’t exactly begun planning anything, but they didn’t need to know that.
As I moved to walk inside, their questions followed me.
“Will it be in Greece? A big Greek wedding?” one of them yelled.
“Who’s designing your dress, Maci?” another shouted.
“Any hints on the honeymoon destination?”
Their voices became a blur as I stepped into the venue, leaving the flashing lights and shouted questions behind.
As I entered the grand ballroom, the venue’s elegance hit me smack in the face. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, inviting glow over the room, while the ornate decorations and luxurious furnishings spoke of refined elegance. It was beautiful. Whoever had done the decorations should get a raise.
The guests, a blend of high society and business elite, were dressed in their finest. Among them, I recognized a well-known Greek shipping magnate, his suit tailored to perfection, conversing with a group that included a famous local actress in a stunning scarlet sequined gown.
Before I could take it all in, an elegantly dressed woman in a beaded blue gown approached me and smiled warmly. “Congratulations on your engagement! The ring is stunning.”
I didn’t recognize her, but I could tell from the size of the ring on her own hand that she was someone important.
“Thank you so much,” I replied, my smile matching hers. “We’re both incredibly excited.”
Another guest, a distinguished gentleman, joined in at her side. “I heard about the proposal. Nikolaos is a lucky man. Any ideas on where the wedding will be?”
“We’re still considering a few places. It will definitely be something memorable,” I answered. As we spoke, the sound of a string quartet filled the background, adding a serene melody to the buzz of conversations around the room.
Politely, I excused myself and took my leave. As I moved through the crowd, a waiter dressed in a fine black suit approached me with a tray full of drinks.
“Champagne, Miss?” he offered, presenting a flute filled with the sparkling liquid.
“Yes, thank you,” I replied with a smile, taking a glass.
I turned to scan the crowd, the glass of champagne in hand. My eyes searched the room until they finally landed on my target, Secretary-General Christos Georgiou. He stood out with his dignified posture, his suit perfectly tailored, exuding a sense of power and authority. His hair was neatly combed, and his face bore an expression of cool confidence and sharp calculation.
My heart leapt into my throat.
His gaze met mine across the room, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. With a composed demeanor, I made my way to the bar, the murmur of the crowd blending into the background. Shortly after, he joined me, his approach calm and deliberate.
“Good evening, Miss Williams. Wait. I’m sorry,” he paused, “soon to be Mrs. Kaligaris,” he corrected with a polite nod, his voice smooth as he sipped a glass of whiskey.
