Bound to the calloway's heir

HARPER.

The luxury-decorated hall was filled with the kind of energy that makes one feel a sense of belonging. Crystal chandeliers threw bright light across the room, adding a touch of sparkle to the sequined gowns and tuxes that everyone in the room wore. The air smelled of expensive perfume oozing with ambition. Who would blame them? After all, it was what brought me there, too. Becoming Lila was phase one of my strategy and it had been a good touch. With my bug on Noah's Calendar, I was closer to Atlas's than ever. The next phase of my plan was why I was at the banquet hall that evening.

I stood near the entrance, clasping a glass of untouched champagne in my hand as I scanned the crowd at the Los Angeles annual Tech gala, with my press badge hanging around my neck, granting me access but marking me as an outsider. I didn't mind. Outsiders saw everything others missed.

Since the guests were still arriving, the action was outside on the red carpet, and I walked out of the hall to participate in the ongoing circus. The flashing cameras, shouted questions, and the low hum of anticipation that always preceded the arrival of a big shot all made me soak the air with nostalgia. I had been there with a notebook tucked into my clutch, while my ears pricked for any lead gist worth chasing. They had been my humble beginning, and perhaps they will usher me into a better future that day.

Most of the arrivals were tech moguls and local celebrities, all showing off the usual parade of wealth and influence and none caught my attention as I took a sip of my champagne watching the media buzz. But then a sleek white Bentley rolled up, and the crowd's energy shifted, and soft murmurs rippled through the reporters, tightening their focus at once. Every camera lens was redirected to capture the car angles, and I leaned forward, squinting against the glare of spotlights, waiting to see who could command that kind of buzz.

The car flung open, and Audrey Movitch stepped out, and my breath caught. I could hear the hush fall on everyone on the red carpet. Audrey was the PR handler for the Atlas Group. Of course. Her presence explained the sudden charge in the air. She moved with the grace of someone who had mastered the art of being watched, her tailored navy dress hugging her frame, her auburn hair swept into an elegant chignon. But it wasn't her poise or her designer heels that held my attention. It was the way her smile never quite reached her eyes as she turned to field questions from the press line. While they hauled lots of questions about Atlas operations, she answered each of them with a polished deflection, showing her masterclass in saying nothing while sounding like she was spilling everything. I knew that trick. I have seen it in politicians, CEOs, and liars. My pulse quickened. Audrey Movitch was in on the other dark deals Atlas is involved in aside from the tech business; she was clearly hiding something, and I was going to find out what. Just like the four brothers, Audrey was loyal to the group. She had been working with Atlas for over six years. Investment banking didn't breed that kind of loyalty and secrecy. I'd thought she was in the clear and merely doing her job as a PR specialist until that moment. Bingo Audrey!

I watched her work the red carpet, her responses smooth as glass. "The Atlas Group is thrilled to support innovation in sustainable tech investment," she said to one reporter. "Our focus is on empowering the future, not dwelling on the past." The reporter nodded, scribbling furiously, but I caught the slight tightening of her jaw when someone asked about the brothers' private ventures. She laughed it off, a tinkling sound that didn't match the flicker of unease in her eyes. My fingers twitched around my glass. I was trained to spot the cracks in a facade, and Audrey's was starting to show. The gala's host called for everyone to move inside, and I trailed the crowd, keeping my eyes on Audrey. She glided toward the main hall, her posture impeccable with a fixed smile.

I needed to get close to her, too, not just for a soundbite like the other reporters, but for something real. My charming vibe was going to come in handy, knowing that years of working in rooms like this had taught me how to make people trust me and forget I was a journalist until it was too late. After the press had eased off on her trail, I decided it was time for me to warm up my way to the PR lady. I adjusted my dress, a deep emerald number that hugged my curves without screaming for attention, and made my move.

"Audrey Movitch?" I said, falling into step beside her as we entered the hall. My voice was light with the kind of tone that invited confidence. "You handled that press line like a pro. I'm Harper Kane, by the way."

She turned, her eyes assessing me in a heartbeat. Up close, she was even more striking. She had sharp cheekbones, a smattering of freckles across her nose, and eyes that seemed to see right through me. But her smile was practiced. "Thank you, Harper. It's just part of the job. You're with...?"

"Freelance, mostly," I said, keeping it vague. "I cover the tech beat for a few outlets. You know, chasing the next big thing." I flashed a grin, letting a hint of mischief creep into it. "Though I have to say, Atlas always seems to be the story everyone wants but no one can quite get."

Her laugh was soft, but I caught the edge in it. "We're just a boring investment firm, I'm afraid. Not much of a story there."

I tilted my head, letting my expression say I didn't buy it without being rude. "Oh, I don't know. Five brothers running a billion-dollar empire? That's the kind of thing that sells papers."

She didn't miss a beat. "They're brilliant men with a vision. I'm lucky to work with them." Her tone was perfect, but her fingers tightened slightly around her clutch. Gotcha Audrey.

We reached the seating area and I glanced at the place cards, my heart doing a little leap of its own when I saw my name next to hers. Luck or fate, I didn't care. I was exactly where I needed to be.

"Looks like we're tablemates," I said, pulling out her chair before she could. A small gesture, but it set the tone for charm since I was here to make her comfortable and definitely like me.

She slid into her seat in fluid movements, and I took the chair beside her. The room buzzed with conversation mixed with the clink of glasses and cutlery. Onstage, a tech influencer was droning about the Fintech future, but I barely listened. My focus was on Audrey, how her gaze flicked to the stage but never settled. She was on guard, and I needed to change that.

"So," I said, leaning in just enough to make it feel intimate without crowding her, "how do you do it? Managing the PR for a juggernaut like Atlas. I bet you've got stories that'd make my hair curl."

She smiled, and this time it felt a little more genuine. "It's a lot of coffee and a good pair of heels," she said, crossing her legs. "But honestly, it's about knowing the mission. The brothers are intense, but they're focused. They want to change the world, and I help them tell that story."

I nodded, filing away the word "intense." It wasn't much, but it was a start. "Must be exhausting, though. Keeping all those plates spinning. I mean, the brothers, Zane, Ethan, Noah, Damian and Liam. They're practically perfect. No one ever sees them slip up. That's got to be your doing."

Her eyes flickered, just for a moment, and I knew I had hit a nerve. "They're disciplined," she said, her voice steady but her fingers brushing the stem of her glass a little too quickly. "They know what's at stake."

I wanted to push, to ask what exactly was at stake, but I held back. Pushing too soon, and she'd clam up. Instead, I pivoted. "I get it. I've covered enough CEOs to know the ones who shine do it because they've got someone like you in their corner. You're like the magic behind the curtain."

That got a real laugh out of her, a low, throaty sound filled me with warmth. "Wizard, huh? I'll take it. But I'm no Oz. Just a girl from Chicago who's good at her job."

"Chicago?" I latched onto it, sensing an opening. "No way, I spent a summer there interning at the Tribune. Best deep-dish pizza I've ever had. You a Lou Malnati's fan or what?"

Her face lit up, and for the first time, I saw her relax. "Lou's is solid, but I'm a Pequod's girl. Caramelized crust, extra sausage. You don't mess with perfection."

I grinned, leaning back in my chair. "Pequod's? Okay, I respect it. We used to argue about pizza rankings in the newsroom like it was a blood sport. What else do you miss about Chicago?"

We slipped into easy banter, trading stories about dive bars and lakefront summers. I kept my questions in a friendly light, letting her lead, but I was always watching, always listening. The way her shoulders loosened when she talked about her old neighborhood, the way her eyes darted to her phone when a notification pinged. She was good, but she wasn't perfect. There was something behind her polish, she had something she was guarding. I just needed time to find it.

The talk show portion of the evening dragged on, some panel about blockchain that had half the room checking their watches. I used the lull to keep Audrey talking, steering the conversation to safer ground on movies, travel, the chaos of PR life. I mirrored her energy, laughing at her jokes, nodding at the right moments. By the time the panel wrapped, we were chatting like old friends, and when she pulled out her business card, I knew I'd played it right.

"Here," she said, handing it to me with a smile. "In case you ever want to talk about pizza or PR disasters."

I took it, my fingers brushing hers, and slipped my own card into her hand. "Oh, I'll be calling. You're too interesting to let slip away."

Her smile faltered for a split second, and I wondered if she'd caught the double meaning. But she recovered fast, tucking my card into her clutch. "Looking forward to it, Harper."

The gala was winding down already with guests drifting toward the exits, but I wasn't ready to let her go. I needed more than a card. I needed her trust. "Hey," I said, standing as she did, "you want to grab a drink? Somewhere less... chandelier-y? I know a great spot a few blocks from here. No press, no pressure."

She hesitated, and I held my breath, knowing this was the make-or-break moment. My mind raced, wondering if I had pushed too hard? Was she seeing through me? But then she nodded, her smile softening. "Sure. I could use a drink."

We slipped out a side door, avoiding the lingering photographers, and stepped into the cool night air. The city hummed around us, neon lights reflecting off wet pavement. I led her to a quiet bar I'd scouted earlier, a place with dim lighting and booths that promised privacy. We settled in, ordering some cocktails, and I let the conversation flow naturally, steering it away from Atlas for now. I needed her to feel safe, to see me as a friend, not a threat.

"So," I said, stirring my drink, "you ever get tired of the PR game? All the spinning, the secrets?"

She took a sip, her eyes meeting mine over the rim of her glass. "Sometimes. But it's what I'm good at. And it's not all secrets. Some stories are worth telling."

"I bet you've got some good ones. The kind that don't make it to the press releases."

She laughed, but there was a guarded edge to it. "Maybe. But you know how it is, some things are better left off the record."

"For now," I said, flashing a playful grin. "But I'm patient. And I'm a great listener."

She studied me, and for a moment, I thought she might shut down. But then she leaned back, her posture easing. "You're trouble, Harper Kane. I can tell."

"Only the good kind," I shot back, and we both laughed, the tension breaking like a wave.

"I think we will make great friends" Audrey said, sipping on her cocktail.

We talked for hours, the bar emptying around us. I kept it light, letting her share what she wanted, but every word, every gesture, was a piece of the puzzle. Audrey Movitch was my way in, my key to unlocking whatever the Atlas Group was hiding. I didn't know what it was yet, but I felt it in my bones. There was something big enough that could improve my career. And as we clinked glasses, I knew I was closer than ever to finding it.