Chapter 2: Consequences
The room buzzed with whispers after the wine spill, yet Ethan continued as if nothing had occurred. His movements were measured, his posture flawless, the ideal CEO dismissing an incident that many would have used to shame the one at fault.
For Danielle, however, the evening was falling apart. In the catering kitchen, her hands trembled as she stacked the empty tray on the counter, her supervisor's piercing gaze fixed on her.
"What were you thinking?" Angela hissed, arms crossed tightly. "Do you even realize who that was? Ethan Wright. The Ethan Wright."
"I—" Danielle started, but Angela interrupted her.
"Save it. You've embarrassed this entire company tonight. If we lose this contract, it's on you."
Danielle bit her lip, struggling to hold back tears. She couldn't afford to lose this job which she secured not long ago—not with rent due and her younger brother needing new school supplies.
Angela's tone softened a bit, though her irritation lingered. "You're lucky he didn't make a scene. But you'd better hope there are no complaints. Now, get back out there. And keep your head down."
Danielle nodded, grabbing another tray and making her way back into the ballroom. The sting of humiliation still lingered, but she pressed on, forcing herself to concentrate.
Ethan, on the other hand, had slipped away to a quieter corner of the ballroom, blotting his shirt with a cloth. His father approached, his expression inscrutable.
"Quite the dramatic entrance," Richard commented dryly.
Ethan offered a faint smirk. "It's just wine, Dad."
Richard's eyes narrowed. "It's more than that. It's about how you're perceived. Every move you make tonight is under scrutiny. And that little incident? It won't be overlooked."
Ethan's jaw clenched. "I handled it. No need to make a big deal out of it."
Richard sighed. "You've always had confidence, Ethan. But confidence alone isn't enough in this world. You need to maintain control. Don't let small distractions throw you off course."
Ethan didn't respond, his eyes wandering to the kitchen doors where the young waitress had just vanished. There was something about her—a mix of vulnerability and quiet strength—that stuck with him. He shook it off, redirecting his focus to the evening's plans.
Danielle believed the worst was over, but as the night came to an end, Angela approached her with a serious look.
"The Wrights want to talk to you," she said.
Danielle froze. "What? Why?"
"I'm not sure, but you don't keep people like them waiting."
With her heart racing, Danielle followed Angela into a smaller, more private lounge. Ethan was there, along with his father. The difference between them was striking—Ethan's composed elegance contrasted sharply with Richard's imposing, no-nonsense demeanor.
Danielle stepped forward, her palms sweaty. "Mr. Wrights, I'm really sorry for earlier. It was a mistake, and I—"
Ethan raised a hand to stop her. "Relax," he said, his voice steady. "No one's here to fire you. Yet."
Richard's gaze was cold, slicing through her like a knife. "We just wanted to make sure you grasp the seriousness of tonight. My son is taking on a crucial role, and we can't have any... distractions."
Danielle nodded quickly. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."
Ethan studied her for a moment before asking, "What's your name?"
She blinked. "Danielle. Danielle Carter."
"Well, Danielle," Ethan said, leaning in slightly. "Consider this your warning. My father's right—perception is everything in this world. But mistakes are only unforgivable if you don't learn from them."
Danielle nodded, feeling the weight of his words as both a reprimand and, strangely, a lifeline.
As she exited the room, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the last she'd see of the Wright family.
Later that night, Ethan sat in his office, the city lights sparkling outside the window. He turned the silver watch on his wrist, the engraved words serving as a constant reminder. His thoughts wandered back to Danielle. It wasn't the accident itself that struck him, but rather how she had composed herself afterward. There was an elusive quality about it, something he couldn't fully grasp.
His phone buzzed, interrupting his reverie. It was a text from his father:
Remember who you are, Ethan. There's no place for weakness.
Ethan's jaw tightened. He quickly deleted the message and leaned back in his chair, gazing out at the city. The night was still young, and the repercussions of the gala were just starting to reveal themselves.