One year ago
Los Angeles, California
Carter Tech Launch Event
Elena Blake hated tech events.
Everyone wore overpriced minimalist fashion, sipped overpriced cocktails, and talked in buzzwords like "disruption" and "blockchain" without ever blinking. Still, she smiled, her champagne glass balanced delicately in her hand, her sleek black dress hugging her figure just enough to remind people that power and beauty weren't mutually exclusive.
"Blake PR. Smart move bringing you in," someone whispered behind her. "She cleaned up that politician's mess in under 72 hours."
She heard it, as always. She just didn't react.
She wasn't here for gossip. She was here for the firm's latest client—Carter Tech. The mysterious startup that had gone from Silicon Valley whisper to media obsession in six months flat.
And tonight, the man behind it was finally stepping into the spotlight.
"Elena, there you are." A woman with a clipboard and panic in her eyes rushed over. "He's early. And he wants to meet you before he goes on stage."
"He?" Elena asked, even though she already knew.
"Ryan Carter."
Elena took one slow breath and nodded. "Lead the way."
They cut through the buzzing crowd until they reached a private VIP lounge just off the main floor. The door opened—and there he was.
Ryan Carter.
In person, he was worse.
Taller than she expected. Hands in his pockets. Leaning against the bar like he didn't just run the hottest tech company in America. His dark gray shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled up like he was allergic to formality.
He turned—and locked eyes with her like he'd been waiting.
"Elena Blake," he said, voice low and amused. "You look…expensive."
She arched a brow. "And you look like you think that's a compliment."
He grinned. "It is. Trust me, I know the value of good PR."
She stepped closer, calm but curious. "Then let's get one thing straight. I'm not your damage control. I'm your reputation's bodyguard. You don't make my job harder, and I won't make yours impossible."
For a second, he just stared at her.
Then he chuckled. "I like you already."
And Elena hated—hated—that her stomach fluttered.
"You're charming," she said, not smiling. "But I'm immune."
Ryan tilted his head, his voice a little softer. "No one's really immune. Some of us just take longer to crack."
And that was the beginning.
That night, she'd stayed longer than she planned. Talked more than she meant to. Learned things about him that weren't in his press file—like how he hated ties, built his first app in a garage, and once walked away from a million-dollar deal because it didn't feel right.
He wasn't what she expected. And that was the problem.
Because the version of herself that flirted with danger?
She hadn't been around in years.
But Ryan Carter had a way of bringing things to the surface.
And before she could stop it, the spark had already caught.