"Althea."
Matteo's grin widened as he looked at the woman approaching them.
Roseanne had no better way to describe her than breathtaking. Althea moved with effortless elegance, slightly taller than Roseanne, her posture straight and assured. The soft glow of the garden lamps highlighted her pale skin and the calm authority in her expression.
"What a surprise," Matteo said with a low chuckle. "The last time I remember, you hated parties."
"And the last time I remember, you weren't this obnoxious," Althea replied smoothly, her smile refined but sharp enough to cut.
Matteo clicked his tongue in irritation. "I see that attitude of yours hasn't changed."
"Neither has yours."
Her gaze drifted to Roseanne for a brief second before returning to Matteo. "She said she's with him. That should be reason enough for you to step away."
"You don't know who she is, Althea."
"I don't need to," she said calmly. "She's here with the Romanos. That's all that matters." Her eyes hardened. "Unless you'd prefer I call him here myself."
Matteo's jaw tightening as he held her stare, annoyance written plainly across his face.
Roseanne wasn't foolish enough to stand between them. She was merely a secretary in this circle of power so she remained still and watched.
After a tense pause, Matteo brushed past Althea and left the terrace without another word.
"Thank you," Roseanne said quietly after Matteo disappeared from the terrace.
Althea offered her a gentle smile. "Are you alright?"
"I am. Thank you for stepping in."
"Let's head back inside. It's getting chilly out here," Althea said, rubbing her arms lightly.
Roseanne followed without hesitation. Althea didn't look back to check, yet her pace slowed just enough to make it clear she expected Roseanne beside her.
They reentered the hall and stopped near one of the food tables. Althea examined the selection of cakes for a moment but didn't pick up a plate. "Is this your first time attending?"
They stood near the corner of the hall, just far enough from the crowd to avoid being overheard.
"Yes. I'm only assisting Mr. Romano temporarily, so I won't be attending often," Roseanne replied.
"Is that so?" Althea murmured, glancing at her thoughtfully. "That's rather unexpected. He usually attends with only his aide, Mr. Hawke, and no one else."
Unexpected indeed.
Considering how Czar had sent her a dress to wear and insisted on picking her up himself, Roseanne had assumed this was nothing unusual for him. She thought he often brought women to these parties, that it was simply part of the image he maintained.
Or maybe, like the day he questioned her presence as a Rousseau, he simply wanted her within sight to keep an eye on her every move. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
Noticing the confusion on her face, Althea smiled. "Don't think about it too much. And what should I call you again?" She extended her hand.
Roseanne took it. "Roseanne Leclair."
"Althea Archer."
"Thank you for earlier, Ms. Archer."
Althea gave her a small look. "Please, just Althea. And I'll call you Rose, if that's alright?"
Roseanne smiled softly. "Of course, Althea."
They spent the time talking about the charity, about Althea's work at the hospital, and about Roseanne's own job. It was there that Roseanne discovered that Althea also knew Genevieve Gjorgiev. Maybe the world really was that small for these people, everyone seemed to know everyone.
About fifteen minutes later, Czar and Reagan reentered the hall. Czar's eyes immediately found Roseanne without much searching and a slight frown appeared when he saw her standing with Althea.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, turning his gaze toward Althea.
One of her eyebrows arched. "I can't be here?"
"You know what I mean," Czar replied. He looked alert as he stared straight into her eyes. Meanwhile, Reagan had stopped halfway across the hall talking to someone at a distance.
"Calm yourself. I didn't do anything. In fact, I just saved her from your long-time sworn enemy. Right, Rose?" Althea said smoothly.
Roseanne glanced between them. "Yes."
Althea leaned in toward Czar slightly just enough for Roseanne to hear. "He's been deliberately provoking you these days."
His jaw clenched subtly but he didn't move.
The rest of the party went smoothly with plenty of performances to enjoy. Yet Roseanne couldn't shake the feeling that Czar remained tense, his expression serious and his mind seemingly elsewhere throughout the evening.
When the gala finally ended, Czar's driver arrived to pick them up.
"Sit next to me, Roseanne," he said as they stepped onto his private jet.
On the flight to the charity party earlier, she had sat across from him, scrolling through her phone while he read through documents, occasionally glancing her way. But now, he wanted her right beside him.
They settled side by side, their thighs pressing lightly against one another.
"What did you talk about with Matteo?"
The question seemed sudden, but Roseanne knew he had been stewing over it since earlier, waiting until they were alone to bring it up.
"It's… nothing much. He just wanted to know why I was here," she replied.
"And what did you tell him?"
Roseanne glanced at him carefully. "I told him the truth just as I told you, Mr. Romano. I've been working with Ms. Gjorgiev for the past few years."
His jaw tensed for a moment before his thumb brushed lightly against her lips. "You better not be lying to me."
She found it hard to breathe, acutely aware of the warmth of his thumb against her lips. Only a few inches separated their faces. Roseanne could feel his breath brushing against her, their noses almost touching, yet a small space remained between their lips.
She knew she should pull back and make a rational decision. Getting tangled with him any further would only bring trouble, perhaps even danger. Yet, despite her mind screaming caution, she couldn't move.
Deep down, she wanted—
"As long as you're still playing dumb with me," Czar murmured, his voice low, "I'm not giving you what you want, sweetheart."
He pulled away and the heat between them disappeared in an instant. Roseanne felt as if someone had doused her in cold water. She closed her eyes, cheeks burning with heat.
What a jerk, she thought bitterly.