chapter 7
That night, after the mixer ended and most people drifted back to their rooms, I went downstairs to grab a bottle of water.
The ballroom had emptied. Staff were cleaning up. The glitter of the evening had already turned into forgotten napkins and half-cleared trays.
Near the bar, I saw Maya.
She was holding two glasses.
When she noticed me, something flashed across her face.
Annoyance. Then calculation.
“Ava,” she said with a bright smile. “Still awake? Big day tomorrow.”
“What are you doing down here?” I asked.
“Getting Liam a drink,” she said, lifting one of the glasses. “He’s stressed. He needs to loosen up.”
Her tone was light.
But the hair on the back of my neck rose.
Both glasses looked similar. Same clear liquid. Same ice. One with lemon, one without.
I couldn’t explain why the sight of them unsettled me so badly.
“Make sure he doesn’t overdo it,” I said evenly. “Being hungover won’t help him win.”
“Don’t worry,” she said sweetly. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Then she swept past me toward the elevators.
I bought my water, but unease stayed lodged in my chest.
The application.
Her fake innocence.
Liam always calling it a joke after the line had already been crossed.
A pattern.
Escalation disguised as harmless fun.
Instead of going straight back to my room, I took the long way around through the conference level.
That was when I saw him.
Elias Ward stood near a side door, leaning hard against the wall.
Something was wrong.
His tie was gone, shirt collar open, skin pale. Sweat shimmered across his forehead. When he glanced up, his eyes were unfocused.
I hurried toward him.
“Are you okay?”
He blinked like my voice had to travel a long way to reach him.
“I’m fine,” he said automatically.
Then he winced.
“Did you drink a lot?” I asked.
He shook his head and regretted it instantly.
“One,” he muttered. “I’m not stupid. I have investors and press tomorrow. I can’t afford to be—”
He broke off.
He pushed away from the wall and swayed.
I caught his arm.
His pulse was racing.
Way too fast.
A cold chill slid down my spine.
“One drink shouldn’t do this,” I said quietly.
He looked at me, and for the first time I saw something crack through his controlled expression.
Fear.
“I know,” he said.
I thought of Maya.
The drinks in her hands.
I know exactly what I’m doing.
“Elias,” I said, shifting so more of his weight rested against me, “we need to get you somewhere safe right now.”
He tried to protest, but he was in no shape to argue.
I guided him out of the hallway and into a nearby conference room I had seen earlier that evening.
Inside, I eased him into a chair.
His breathing was shallow and controlled, like he was trying very hard not to lose it.
“Call my assistant,” he said between clenched teeth. “Phone. Pocket.”
I pulled his phone from his jacket, unlocked it with his thumbprint, and found a contact labeled S.
The woman picked up on the second ring.
“Mr. Ward?”
“My name is Ava,” I said quickly. “I’m with him at the convention. He’s not well. I think someone might have slipped something into his drink.”
Her silence lasted less than a second.
Then her voice turned razor sharp.
“Where are you?”
I gave her the room number.
“Do not leave him alone,” she said. “Security and I are on our way.”
It felt like an hour and a heartbeat at the same time before the door opened.
A woman in her thirties entered first, tablet in hand, followed by hotel security.
They moved fast. Efficient. Controlled.
Talking about cameras. Drink logs. Liability. Medical response.
Through it all, Elias kept his eyes on me.
“You didn’t have to stay,” he said, words beginning to slur.
I thought about that.
He was right. I could have walked away. Pretended I had seen nothing.
It would have been easy.
But I knew what it felt like to have something dangerous brushed off as a joke.
“I know,” I said. “But I was there.”
His mouth moved like he wanted to smile.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Security asked for a statement.
I told them everything.
Maya. The two glasses. Her exact words. The timing.
As I spoke, something clicked into place inside me.
Not fear.
Resolve.