Page 15

I step out of the house, hurrying toward the waiting car, excited for the date I've planned for Viktor Petrov and Elena Sokolov tonight. When I approach the sleek black vehicle, I'm surprised to see Mark standing there with his hand on the door handle.

“Mark? What are you doing here?” I ask, my brow furrowing when I don’t see my usual bodyguard.

“Where's Sergei?”

Mark smiles. “I figured I'd tag along tonight to see what all the fuss is about with this matchmaking thing you’ve got going on.”

I narrow my eyes at him, suspecting there's more to it than that. “Is this about Charlie Letvin? Because I told you, I'm fine. Sergei can handle him.”

Mark shrugs, his eyes glinting in the fading light.

“Can't a man be curious about his...friend's line of work? Besides, I figured you could use the extra security.”

I roll my eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Mark's hovering is incessant, but there's something undeniably charming about his persistence. “Fine. But don't get in my way, Zolotov. I have a job to do.”

He grins, opening the car door for me with a flourish. “Wouldn't dream of it, Desmond.”

As we head to the venue, my mind races with the final details for Viktor and Elena's date. I've spent weeks planning this evening, determined to create the perfect atmosphere for these two high-profile clients. Mark sits uncharacteristically quiet beside me, giving me the silence I need to focus.

We arrive at the private estate, and I'm immediately in my element. The sprawling grounds are bathed in soft light, and the air is scented with jasmine and rose. I move through the space with purpose, checking items off my mental list as I go.

The table is set with crisp white linens and gleaming silver. A centerpiece of violets imported from Holland adds a touch of romance. Twinkling lights are strung overhead, casting a warm glow over the intimate setting. A string quartet plays softly in the background, its melodies mingling with the gentle murmur of a nearby fountain.

“Not bad,” Mark murmurs, his eyes scanning the space approvingly. “You really go all out for these things, don't you?”

I glance at him over my shoulder, a flicker of pride warming my chest. “Only the best for my clients. And for Viktor and Elena? They deserve nothing less.”

I lead Mark through the venue, explaining my process as we go. “It's all about creating the right mood,” I tell him, adjusting a place setting with a critical eye. “The lighting, the music, the little touches—they all work together to set the stage for romance.”

Mark listens intently, his gaze following my every move. “You make it look effortless, putting all this together,” he remarks, a note of admiration in his voice.

I flash him a smile, feeling a burst of satisfaction at his praise. “It's not effortless, but it's worth it. When I see my clients connecting, really falling for each other? That's what makes it all worthwhile.”

As the appointed hour draws near, I discreetly take my position, Mark at my side. We watch as Viktor arrives, looking dashing in a tailored suit. He seems nervous, fidgeting with his cufflinks as he waits for Elena.

But the moment she steps into view, all of Viktor's anxiety melts away. His jaw goes slack, his eyes widening as he takes in her beauty. Elena is a vision in a flowing red gown, her dark hair cascading down her back in soft waves.

“I've never seen him look like that,” Mark murmurs, leaning in close. “He's completely smitten.”

I nod, a thrill of satisfaction coursing through me. This is what I live for—the magic of two people connecting on a deeper level.

As Viktor and Elena take their seats, I keep a watchful eye on the proceedings closely. The waitstaff move like ghosts, materializing only to pour champagne and deliver each perfectly timed course before fading into the background once more. The string quartet plays on, its music swelling with each shared laugh and lingering glance between the couple.

“You're really diligent,” Mark observes, his voice low and warm. “The fact that you’re hiding out here just in case you’re needed until the date comes to its completion... It's impressive, Quinn.”

I glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, I'm caught off balance, unsure how to respond. But then I smile, letting his words wash over me like a gentle wave.

“Thank you,” I murmur, holding his gaze. “That means a lot, coming from you. All I’ve seen you do is work. No one works half as hard as you do.”

“Really?” he raises his eyes in surprise. “I felt the same about you all this time.

We lapse into a comfortable silence, watching as Viktor and Elena lose themselves in conversation. They lean toward each other, hands brushing, eyes locked. Their chemistry is palpable, a living, breathing thing.

For a moment, everything else fades away—the stress, the long hours, the constant pressure to be perfect. All that matters is this: two people falling in love and the knowledge that I helped make it happen.

As Viktor and Elena's laughter rings out across the venue, Mark turns to me, curiosity glinting in his eyes. “So, why her? Why choose Elena for Viktor?”

I take a breath, considering my words carefully. “Elena is more than just a pretty face. She's an independent heiress with a successful fashion label. She's driven, passionate, and unafraid to pursue what she wants. Besides, she’s already pledged 80% of her wealth to charity. There’s no doubt she’s here to create a better world, not swayed by material goods.”

Mark nods, a flicker of admiration crossing his chiseled features. “Sounds like a perfect match for Viktor. He needs someone who can keep up with him, challenge him, show him that businesses can do good.”

“Exactly,” I agree, my gaze drifting back to the couple. They're completely engrossed in each other, oblivious to the world around them. “But it's not just about finding someone with complementary qualities. It's about creating a genuine connection, a spark that can grow into something real and lasting.”

Mark shifts beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. “And you think they have that? That spark?”

I nod, feeling a rush of conviction. “I do. I wouldn't have brought them together otherwise.”

He falls silent, studying me with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “You really believe in this, don't you? In love, in a happily ever after.”

I meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “I do. I’ve seen it with my parents. I’ve seen love blossom all around me.”

My mind drifts to my distant uncle, to the lessons he taught me about the power of human connection. “My uncle always said that love is the greatest gift we can give or receive. That it has the power to heal, to transform, to make us better than we ever thought possible.”

Mark's expression softens, a hint of understanding flickering in his eyes. “You sound like you were close to your uncle.”

“I was,” I murmur, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips. “He's the reason I started this business, the reason I'm so passionate about what I do. He told me to chase my wildest dreams. ‘ Life’s too short, Kid. Don’t take any regrets with you to the grave’. ”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself against the sudden rush of emotion. “He believed that everyone deserves a chance at love, at happiness. And that's what I want to give my clients.”

Mark's gaze lingers on me for a moment longer, his expression inscrutable. “You're a hopeless romantic, you know?” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

I bristle at his words, my defenses rising. “And what's wrong with that?”

“Nothing. Except it can lead to disappointment.”

“Perhaps you’re just a cynic.”

“Or perhaps true love doesn’t exist,” he says simply.

I turn to him, incredulous. “You don’t believe in love?”

He chuckles, the sound low and rich, sending a shiver down my spine. “I never said I don't believe in love, Quinn. I just think true love isn’t all it’s meant to be. Love takes work. It’s not for everyone. I've seen it firsthand, how it can consume and destroy.”

There's a darkness in his eyes, a glimpse of the pain he keeps so carefully hidden. “And true love, the kind that lasts? That's a fairytale, a pretty lie we tell ourselves to make the world seem less cruel.”

I shake my head, refusing to accept his bleak worldview. “You're wrong, Mark. I've seen it too, the power of real connection, of two hearts finding each other against all odds.”

He steps closer, his gaze burning into mine. “And what happens when it falls apart? When the person you trusted most betrays you, leaves you broken and alone?”

The intensity of his words takes my breath away, and for a moment, I'm lost in the depths of his eyes. “Then you pick yourself up and try again,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “Because the alternative is giving up, and I refuse to do that.”

For a long moment, we stand there, locked in a silent battle of wills. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the tension breaks, and Mark steps back, a rueful smile on his lips.

“You're a force to be reckoned with, Quinn Desmond,” he says, shaking his head. “A light in the darkness.”

His praise is so high that I don’t know what to say. With a smile of acknowledgment, I turn my attention back to Viktor and Elena, watching as they lean in for a soft, sweet kiss. The sight fills me with a sense of triumph and purpose.

“Look at them,” I murmur, my voice filled with wonder. “They're falling in love, right before our eyes.”

Mark follows my gaze, and I can see the reluctant admiration in his expression.

As Viktor and Elena stand to leave together, their hands intertwined, I feel a rush of pure elation. It's moments like these that make all the hard work worth it.

“We did it,” I squeal, turning to Mark with a grin that stretches from ear to ear. “They're perfect for each other, and we made it happen. Tonight was an absolute success!”

In a burst of sheer joy, I throw my arms around him, and he reaches for my waist, pulling me closer with a laugh. I pull back from his neck, his scent lingering on my senses, and the next thing I know, my heart races as we stand there in each other’s arms, our eyes locked on one another.

Mark gently lifts his hand to my cheek, and I lean into it. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire I can’t ignore. I part my lips, and his gaze is intense and searching.

“Quinn,” he breathes my name like a whispered prayer, his voice low and husky.

Instantly, I slam my lips against his. My heart pounds in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears. Every rational thought evaporates as I find myself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. The world fades away until it's just the two of us, suspended in this charged moment.

His stubble grazes against my skin, but I don’t care. I slide my tongue across his lips and part mine, for him to enter. Our breath mingles, warm and enticing, and when Mark’s hand clutches the back of my neck to pull me closer, I nearly melt.

God, I want him. I want him with every fiber of my being. He gently releases my neck, an impending sign that this kiss is coming to an end.

And then, as quickly as it began, the moment ends. I pull back, my cheeks flushed, my heart pounding in my chest. “I'm sorry,” I stammer, suddenly self-conscious. “I don't know what came over me.”

Mark's eyes darken, and his gaze is intense and focused solely on me. “Don't be,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. I'm not.”

And then his lips are on mine again, his kiss deep and hungry, filled with a passion that steals my breath away. I melt into him, my fingers tangling in his hair, my body molding against his as if we were made for each other.

When we finally break apart, we're both breathless, our chests heaving.

Mark's eyes are hooded, his expression unreadable. “We should go,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “Back home.”

“Yes,” I say, without skipping a beat. This time around, I want to get home as fast as I possibly can.