Chapter 3 A Forgotten Spectacle

The grand ballroom dazzled under extravagant crystal chandeliers, their shimmering reflections dancing gracefully across polished marble floors and opulent, gold-accented walls. The room hummed with sophisticated laughter, soft music, and the whispered conversations of influential guests striking deals and alliances beneath a veneer of cultivated politeness.

Sky Taylor stepped into this luxurious realm with calculated elegance, her high heels clicking rhythmically against the marble. Her presence was instantly magnetic as her deep emerald velvet mini dress hugged her body flawlessly, highlighting her slender figure. Its daring neckline and tapered sleeves whispered of both power and refined sensuality. Her raven hair flowed smoothly down her back, framing a face calm and strikingly confident, accented with subtle, tasteful jewelry that gleamed discreetly in the ambient glow.

Heads subtly turned as she moved through the gathering, curiosity flaring briefly in each gaze. Yet no one approached. She was an intriguing mystery, a figure who seemed familiar but whose name eluded them. Once, her face had dominated headlines, but time had blurred the sharpness of public memory. Sky Taylor, the fallen CEO, had become just another intriguing yet anonymous socialite.

The polite indifference grated against Sky's composure, frustration simmering beneath her calm facade. She had carefully orchestrated tonight's appearance to recapture attention and spark recognition, yet these powerful players had forgotten her so easily. Her jaw tightened subtly, annoyance bubbling into cold resolve. She didn't need their memory, just their underestimation.

Yet, as the evening wore on, her target, Derek Wolfe, remained elusive. She scanned the lavish ballroom repeatedly, each pass deepening her irritation. Had tonight been a wasted gamble?

Eventually, with resignation, Sky abandoned her untouched champagne and exited onto the street, the brisk night air a stark contrast to the stifling warmth of the gala. She shivered, immediately regretting her lack of planning for transportation, and began walking briskly down the quiet sidewalk.

Preoccupied by disappointment, she barely noticed the uneven pavement beneath her until a sudden twist sent her sprawling forward onto the cold concrete. Pain shot through her knee, and embarrassment flared hot in her chest. Cursing softly under her breath, she reached out for her fallen clutch, fingers trembling slightly.

"Don't move."

The voice cut clearly through the darkness, authoritative yet oddly comforting. Sky's heart stilled as she looked up into the piercing gaze of Derek Wolfe, kneeling gracefully beside her. His presence was striking, commanding attention effortlessly. His perfectly tailored suit emphasized his powerful frame, and the intensity in his hazel eyes held her momentarily captive.

"You're lucky," Derek remarked quietly, assessing her scraped knee with clinical detachment. "It's superficial."

Sky inhaled deeply, recovering her poise swiftly. Accepting his offered hand, she allowed him to guide her smoothly to her feet. His touch lingered slightly longer than necessary, sending an unexpected tremor of awareness through her veins.

"Thank you," she managed, voice steadied by sheer determination as she reclaimed her fallen clutch.

Derek studied her silently, his gaze unreadable yet deeply probing. "Did you plan on walking the entire night?"

Sky lifted her chin slightly, defiance sparkling in her eyes. "Funny. I came to the gala specifically to meet you, yet you found me instead."

His eyebrows rose subtly, amusement flickering briefly in his eyes. "Fate seems to have its own plans. And what did you wish to discuss? Business or pleasure?"

"Neither," Sky said coolly, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. "I want revenge."

An intrigued expression crossed Derek's face, quickly replaced by his usual neutral mask. "Come," he instructed, turning sharply toward a sleek black Lamborghini parked discreetly nearby, clearly expecting her compliance without further question.

Sky hesitated only a fraction of a second before falling into step beside him, excitement mixing with apprehension. Inside the luxurious confines of the car, silence stretched tensely between them as Derek expertly navigated through the city streets, his attention focused calmly ahead.

Finally, his voice cut through the heavy silence. "You still haven't told me your name."

Sky turned slightly, her voice firm. "Sky Taylor."

Recognition briefly flickered in his eyes. "Sky Taylor," he echoed thoughtfully, genuine intrigue in his tone. "Weren't you in prison?"

She offered a humorless laugh. "Yes, it was wonderful. Highly recommended."

Derek chuckled softly, a rich, disconcerting sound. "You're difficult to forget."

They drove the remainder of the journey in contemplative silence. When Derek smoothly pulled up outside her building, he retrieved an embossed business card from the car's console.

"Call my assistant tomorrow," he instructed, his voice calm and authoritative. "Arrange an appointment."

Sky hesitated briefly, accepting the card but not breaking their intense eye contact. "You're offering help without even knowing what I seek?"

He leaned in slightly, voice low and intriguingly intimate. "You mentioned revenge. I've found revenge to be excellent business."

Sky studied him intently, understanding the unspoken transaction between them. This wasn't charity or curiosity; Derek Wolfe saw potential, an opportunity. It was a mutual gamble.

"I'll call," she promised, her tone resolute.

"Good." His brief nod dismissed her clearly yet respectfully.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Sky watched him disappear into the night, the card clutched tightly in her hand. She felt her pulse quicken, excitement surging with adrenaline.

Tonight had begun in disappointment but had ended perfectly. She was no longer a forgotten woman, betrayed and powerless. Sky Taylor was rising again, and Derek Wolfe had just become an integral part of her meticulously orchestrated revenge.