Page 39 of Collide (The Rhapsody of Heartbeats #1)

Before You

A djusting the diamond-studded clasp on the red satin gown Rio chose for me, I exhale slowly, steadying myself. The grand ballroom of the Astoria Hotel glitters under the warm glow of chandeliers, the air thick with the hum of conversation and the clinking of crystal glasses.

Tonight matters.

The Annual Montgomery Charity Gala—raising funds for a dozen causes, all carefully curated and tax-deductible. But beyond the polished smiles and champagne, it’s something else entirely.

It’s the first time my entire family will be under one roof.

And that alone makes me nervous.

“Elena!”

Riley’s voice cuts through the crowd, and moments later, she’s at my side, her amethyst gown making her cascading red curls shine. Her eyes are alight with mischief.

“Sorry I’m late, work was shit…Damn girl, you look like a whole damn movie star.”

I laugh. “I have Rio to thank for that,” I say, twirling for her. “Sorry work was shit. You look hot, though,” I add.

“Bosses. But God bless Rio, that stylish, sassy gay man doing the Lord’s work.” Riley gives me a once-over before linking her arm through mine. “Now, let’s get you a drink before you have to flash that perfect little rich-girl smile at all these people.”

Before we can move toward the bar, a voice—low, smooth, unmistakable—interrupts.

“Elena.”

My breath hitches slightly before I turn, already knowing who I’ll find.

Broderick.

He is striking in a tailored black tuxedo, the crisp lines emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders, the way it fits like a second skin. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that sends heat curling through me.

For a moment, we stand there, caught in something unspoken.

Our conversation on the phone softened something in me. Sure, he’s a rich douche, but he was kind enough to make me smile when I needed it.

Riley’s eyes widen as she takes him in for the first time. She’s stunned into silence—no flirty remark, no smug little smirk. Even his looks have her thrown.

“Do I know you?” I joke, my lips curving into a smile, trying to downplay the way my pulse kicks up a notch.

“Oh, my bad.” Mischief flickers in his gaze. “Here I thought you were Phil’s maid of dishonor—I mean, honor.”

I roll my eyes but can’t suppress the laugh that slips out.

“You clean up well.” The words slip out before I can stop them. Understatement of the century. The man is beyond gorgeous. I feel guilty even noticing, but I’m a woman with eyes—and he’s definitely easy on them.

I feel Riley’s eyes boring into us, glancing back and forth like it’s a verbal tennis match.

Broderick smirks, slow and deliberate. “I could say the same about you, but that would be downplaying it.”

His eyes drag down the length of me, raking over the gown clinging to my curves, the bare skin at my shoulders, the dip at my back. The way he’s looking at me sends heat rushing to my cheeks.

I feel exposed.

Too exposed.

Riley nudges me, snapping me out of it. I catch her knowing smirk.

Before I can respond, Philippa and Andrew appear, breaking the tension like a splash of cold water.

Andrew and Broderick pat each other’s backs before he gives Philippa a friendly hug.

“There’s my stunning little sister,” Philippa coos, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

She’s dressed in a glittering champagne-colored gown, elegant as always. Andrew greets me with a warm smile, but Philippa’s sharp gaze flicks between me and Broderick, catching everything.

“Elena, that drink?” Riley asks, her voice deceptively casual, but I know better.

“I can grab you ladies something,” Broderick offers, flashing that damn megawatt smile—the kind that makes my stomach flutter in a way I refuse to acknowledge.

“We’ll be right, mate,” Riley cuts in smoothly before I can answer.

Philippa’s lips quirk slightly at the exchange, her eyes narrowing as she looks at me. “I could also use a drink,” she says, her smile slow and calculating.

Shit.

As the three of us walk toward the bar, Riley yanks me into a quiet corner, Philippa hot on our heels.

“Elena,” Riley starts, her voice laced with accusation. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” I feign innocence.

“Don’t be coy. You and Bradley eye-fucking each other, and why didn’t you tell me about him?”

Guilt knots in my chest. I have no excuse, but I still feel like I need one. Like I’m betraying Alex somehow, even though he’s not here.

“I didn’t tell you about him because there’s nothing to say, and it’s Broderick,” I correct her, trying to keep my voice steady.

“And you’re defending him,” Riley shoots back, eyeing me like I’ve grown two heads.

“You should’ve seen them at brunch,” Philippa adds, clearly enjoying this way too much. “If looks could strip someone naked, Broderick would’ve been down to his boxers.”

“Oh my God,” I groan, covering my face. “It’s nothing.”

Riley snorts. “Babe, that was not nothing. That was I want to climb you like a tree energy.”

I glare at her, but Philippa nods in agreement, raising a brow. “So you are interested?”

I hesitate. My mind screams at me to say no, to dismiss it, to make some half-hearted excuse. But the heat still lingering in my body from Broderick’s stare tells a different story.

“It’s…complicated,” I admit finally.

Riley gives me a pointed look. “Because of Alex?”

A sharp pang runs through my chest at his name. Thinking of him makes my heart ache. He hasn’t asked me to be his girlfriend yet, so by Riley’s standards, I’m still a ‘free agent,’ but why do I feel guilty? There’s history there—emotions and feelings tangled.

But Broderick is different. He’s something else entirely. A pull I don’t understand. A tension that’s partly annoying, kind of funny, but also magnetic.

“We’re…around each other, because of Philippa’s wedding,” I deflect, shooting my sister a weak glare.

Philippa smirks. “Didn’t realize seducing the best man was part of your maid of honor duties.”

“Pip!” I shriek.

“What’ll it be, ladies?” the bartender asks.

Philippa leans in. “Something hydrating. My sister’s a little thirsty .”

The bartender chuckles.

Riley throws her head back, laughing. “Babe. You are so fucked—metaphorically speaking.”

And for the first time tonight, I think she might be right.

Across the room, my father and Carole are watching. My father, ever the businessman, is deep in conversation with a senator, while Carole offers me a small, polite nod. It’s odd seeing her here, playing the polished socialite wife. It still isn’t easy, but I’m trying.

We head back to our table and take our seats. Broderick’s gaze is smug as he watches me from across it. I keep my expression neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction—or Riley and Philippa any ammunition. He arches a brow, as if I’ve just raised the stakes—and he’s more than happy to play.

While the speaker talks about the charities, silent auctions, and donations coming in, she calls Broderick up to the stage.

He winks at me as he stands, his large hands buttoning his suit jacket as he makes his way to the podium. I sip my drink, desperate to mask the smirk cracking on my face.

I will not show any emotion. Riley nudges me knowingly.

“Good evening, everyone,” he says, his voice smooth and confident.

“It’s an honor to be here tonight, surrounded by people who understand the power of generosity.

We’ve just been told that we’ve raised seven million so far—enough to build hundreds of homes in various third-world countries.

That’s not just a number; that’s real families who will have a roof over their heads because of you. ”

What?

My mind tries to reconcile the man standing at the podium with the one I thought I knew. I pegged Broderick as a corporate finance guy, the type who closed million-dollar deals over whiskey and handshakes—practical, sharp, maybe a little ruthless.

But this? This is unexpected.

“Goodman Enterprises is known for building cities, infrastructure, but initiatives like this are what really matter. A house isn’t just walls and a roof; it’s safety, dignity, a future, and not everyone is that fortunate.

And if we have the power to change that, how can we not?

” he continues, his beautiful eyes sparkling with passion.

He speaks with a quiet conviction, no arrogance, no bravado—just a certainty that what he’s doing matters. And the way the room hangs on his every word, I realize I’m not the only one seeing him in a new light.

“So tonight, I’m personally pledging five hundred thousand dollars to this initiative, not as an investment, but as a promise. I’m hoping there are some generous pockets here tonight who will match or even surpass my donation. And together, we can make sure more people get to claim that right.”

I swallow; my pulse steady, but my thoughts racing. Maybe I underestimated him. Maybe there’s a side of Broderick I never thought to look for. Sure, he’s rich, but maybe he’s got a genuine heart under all that money and privilege.

And now, I can’t stop looking. Even though I should.

“Thank you,” he says finally, his eyes glancing out at the crowd before catching mine. I drop my gaze immediately as my heart starts to rush in my chest.

“Wow,” Riley whispers in my ear, and I know I’m in trouble.

As the formalities conclude, the time comes for me to take the stage and officially open the dance floor.

The lights soften, casting a golden glow over the ballroom as I settle onto the piano bench, my fingers grazing the cool ivory keys.

A hush falls over the crowd, anticipation humming in the air.

With a deep breath, I begin to play, my voice threading through the space in a soft, aching ballad—something slow, something meant to be felt.