It was finally Saturday.
Alex stepped out of his sleek black car, sharp in a tailored suit. Polished shoes caught the morning light as he circled the car and opened the passenger door. He extended a hand. Isa's slender fingers met his. She slipped out gracefully, her crimson gown catching the sun with every step. Her glossy red lips curved into a faint smile, but uncertainty flickered in her eyes.
Alex entwined his fingers with Isa's and offered a warm, reassuring smile.
"We're here, Isa."
She chuckled softly, nodding. But catching her reflection in the glass wall ahead, her brows lifted in quiet disbelief. She barely recognized the woman staring back at her.
"Is that really me?" she whispered.
"Of course, my lady," Alex replied with a gentle grin.
Startled at hearing herself speak aloud, Isa blinked and glanced at him. Then her fingers nervously adjusted the V-neckline of the dress. It revealed more than she felt comfortable with.
Alex had chosen the dress — daring crimson that drew eyes like moths to a flame. Isa's fingers curled into the fabric at her waist, her free arm folding across her chest as if to shield herself from the spotlight she never wanted.
Alex squeezed her hand softly, as if lending courage. Isa turned to him, a small, reluctant smile returning.
"I'm sorry."
"No, I should be apologizing." He paused, his gaze skimming her figure. "But let me say this—you look stunning, Isa. Don't shrink yourself."
His words wrapped around her like a soft blanket, and Isa loosened her arms from around her chest, her smile returning.
Together, they walked into the hall, hand in hand, steps in sync.
The venue shimmered in silver and blue. Crystal chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, casting hues of white, gold, and soft blue. Slow music floated in the background, adding to the serene elegance. Groups of people chatted quietly, laughter slipping out between hushed whispers. Their skin glowed under the lights, clothes expensive and perfectly pressed.
Teenagers filled tables too—students, Isa guessed. Her gaze lingered on one group, their voices loud with laughter. For a moment, she was there—laughing beside Steven, his hand warm and sure around hers.
"Come, let's sit," Alex said, breaking into her thoughts.
"Huh?" Isa blinked.
Alex raised a brow at her, and she gave him a flushed grin.
"I mean—yes."
He led her to the wine counter, pulled out a chair for her, and sat beside her. He ordered drinks, and for a moment, they sipped in silence.
Then Alex broke it.
Alex sipped his drink, eyes twinkling. "So, you still don't recognize me?"
Isa's lips twitched in a smirk, rolling her eyes as she set her glass down. She couldn't recalled how many times he had asked her the same question.
"Do you want me to lie?"
He shook his head. "No, no."
She took a slow sip. "You know a lot about me—Silver Crest, this event… but you never said how we know each other."
Alex smiled slyly. "I know everything about you."
Isa raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh really, Doctor Alex? Then tell me—what exactly do you know?"
Alex cleared his throat, placing his drink on the counter.
But before he could speak, Isa's gaze shifted past him—her eyes catching a figure behind him.
The black hair, the posture, the easy bounce of his shoulders with laughter — all too familiar. The aura. The energy.
"Wait a second…" Isa whispered and stood up abruptly.
Alex followed Isa's gaze as she shifted it to the man standing behind him. He saw the sudden change in her expression, and his jaw clenched. The moment she slid off her chair, Alex did the same, moving quickly to follow her as she strode toward the guy.
Just as he reached out to grab her wrist and stop her, Isa seized the man's arm and spun him around with force.
"You—!"
Her voice stopped short. The man turned, revealing a round, unfamiliar face and deep black eyes.
Isa gasped, hand flying to her mouth.
"What is it, young lady?" the man asked, clearly confused.
Isa dropped her gaze, heat flooding her cheeks in embarrassment.
"I… I'm…"
"She's sorry," Alex said quickly, gripping Isa's wrist. "We'll leave now."
Isa's heart raced as Alex guided her out of the hall and led her to a quiet gazebo just beyond the building and they were alone.
The afternoon air was breezy and carried a quiet chill.
Isa's arms circled her torso, fingers digging into her skin as if to hold herself together. The chill wasn't only from the breeze — a flush of heat burned her cheeks, the sting of embarrassment lingering from the hall.
Without a word, Alex removed his blazer and draped it over her shoulders.
"What did you just do back there, Isa?" Alex said, trying to keep his voice steady. He was still tense. "I know you've come here with me to find him. And… I need to tell you—" he hesitated, then looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. A grimace crossed his face, as if something inside him hurt. "You can't see him any more."
Isa lifted her eyes, squinting. What did he mean he knew I'd come here to find him? And I couldn't see him any more? Did… he know Steven?
"You—you know him?" she asked, stepping closer, her eyes locked onto his. "You do?"
Alex held her gaze for a few seconds, then nodded slowly. "I do."
Isa let out a dry, breathless laugh. "You know him too." She took another step, and now they were almost touching.
If Alex knew Steven, then she'd to know if she wasn't wrong. That her instinct had been right all along. She had to know the truth.
"Mr Adler…" she began.
"He's not Steven," Alex interrupted gently but firmly. "I saw the way you stared at him in the hospital—your concern ran deeper than that of an assistant." He paused. "They may look alike, Isa. But Chris isn't Steven."