Chapter 2 Dangerous attraction

The grand ballroom was alive with some soft music and cheerful chatter with the chandeliers hung from the ceiling and casting a warm glittering glow across the luxurious hall. Groups of elegantly dressed guests stood in scattered circles laughing softly as they sipped expensive champagne.

Every man in the room was dressed in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, while the women dazzled in shimmering designer gowns that caught the light with every step.

I stood quietly at the entrance, my dark eyes sweeping across the crowd....

Compared to everyone else I looked painfully out of place. A simple pair of black trousers and a plain white shirt. Nothing fancy. Nothing that made me stand out.

"Hey... for a second, I thought you weren't coming," Dicksons cheerful voice sounded beside me.

I didn't answer, nor did I wait for him to usher me inside. I simply brushed past him, scanning the room for an empty corner before quietly taking a seat.

For a few seconds, Dickson remained standing by the entrance, watching me with a fond, curious smile. Carrying a bottle of fine wine and two crystal glasses, he walked over and sat down beside me. He poured the deep red liquid into one of the glasses and offered it to me.

"Thanks for coming, Claire," he said softly, his eyes filled with warm affection.

I reached out to take the glass, but the moment my fingers brushed against his, a sharp deafening ringing exploded inside my ears.

My entire body froze,

"the same Alzheimer attack!

The high-pitched screeching grew louder, vibrating through my skull. I instantly dropped my hands over my ears, gasping as a searing pain shot through my neck as if an invisible flame were burning beneath my skin.

My breathing became fast and uneven. Dickson immediately leaned in closer, his face filled with genuine concern as his hand hovered over my shoulder. "Claire? Whats wrong? Are you okay?"

Before I could answer, a deep, authoritative voice interrupted us from behind.

"Hey, son. You brought a guest?"

I didn't look up right away. I kept my head bowed, clenching my jaw as I forced the agonizing pain down. Slowly, I raised my eyes.

And the moment my gaze locked onto his face... my heart skipped a beat, and my chest tightened violently.

"Good evening, Mr. Klein," I said, forcing a calm, polite smile. "And... happy birthday."

I slowly stood up. The older man offered a faint smile and extended his hand. But the exact second our palms met... his expression transformed. His smile vanished into thin air.

He held my hand for several long, suffocating seconds, his sharp, dark eyes piercing into mine as if trying to strip away my soul.

"What is your name?" he asked, his tone dropping.

"Claire..." I answered smoothly. "Claire Clark."

Mr. Klein remained dead silent. Slowly, he released my hand and turned his gaze toward Dickson.

"You said there was someone special you wanted me to meet today," he said quietly, his eyes flickering back to me. "Is she the one?"

Dicksons chest swelled with pride. "Yes, Father," he nodded, stepping closer to my side. "Shes the one. A friend I met recently..."

Suddenly, Dickson turned toward me and gently cupped my hand in his. I didn't pull away.

"I want her to become much more than just a friend," Dickson added softly, his eyes locked onto mine with an unmistakable warmth.

"A bride?" Mr. Klein asked quietly, his cold eyes studying my face. "Miss Claire... do you like my son? And who is your mother? I d love to meet her someday."

A bitter scoff echoed in my mind. For a brief second, my free hand clenched into a tight fist before I forced my fingers to relax.

"I wouldn't mind that at all," I replied calmly, looking straight into the wizard's eyes. "And yes... I like your son very much."

Dicksons eyes widened in sheer delight. He whipped his head toward me, a hopeful smile breaking across his handsome face. "You... you really mean that, Claire? You actually like me?"

My eyes never left Mr. Klein's face. Slowly, I gave a small nod,there Is no harm in becoming the daughter-in-law of the wealthy Klein family."

Mr. Kleins expression hardened into stone. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away. Immediately, four men dressed in identical black suit men who looked far too old to be simple bodyguards followed closely behind him.

Dickson watched his father leave before looking back at me, his eyes searching mine with intense curiosity. "Did you really mean what you just said?"

"Theres no harm in trying, is there?" I murmured softly.

A faint flush touched Dickson's cheeks. He stood there smiling to himself for a few glowing moments before excusing himself to follow his father upstairs.

The second he disappeared up the grand staircase, I pulled out my phone. Opening my gallery, I scrolled past dozens of files until I reached a hidden folder,a single, saved photograph I had kept since childhood.

The exact same face. The exact same dangerous eyes.

"Mr. Klein..." I whispered into the noise of the party. "No... Wizard Klein."

My eyes lifted toward the upper floor where he had vanished.

"You haven't aged a single day..." I murmured under my breath.

Just then, someone bumped lightly against my shoulder and flopped into the chair beside me.

"Hey, shrew," Joan sighed dramatically, leaning back against the cushion. "You didn't even tell me you were coming tonight! I'm seriously thinking about revoking your 'best friend' title."

I scoffed and looked away. "I never asked for it. You're the one who forced your way into my life."

Joan pouted, raising a playful fist. "You're lucky you're such a weakling, or I would've punched you already!" She laughed, reaching for the wine glass Dickson had poured. She sniffed it curiously before turning to me. "Wait... since when do you drink wine?"

"It's not mine. It's Dickson's," I answered casually.

Joans jaw dropped open. "Dickson was sitting here with you?! Girl, do you have any idea how lucky you are?!"

I slowly turned my head toward her. "Lucky?"

Joan leaned in close, her voice dropping to an excited whisper. "Your sister Mira looked like she was about to explode when I asked her if you were coming to Mr. Kleins party!"

I shrugged. "Is that supposed to bother me?"

Before Joan could tease me further, a warm voice cut through the background music.

"Claire? My father would like to see you upstairs," Dickson said, standing a few feet away with an encouraging smile. "He wants to speak with you privately."

Joans eyes went wide, and she immediately started nudging my arm in excitement. I gently brushed her hand away and stood up.

"Lead the way," I said quietly.

As I followed Dickson up the grand, carpeted staircase, the ringing inside my ears flared back to life. With every step we climbed, the burning sensation around my neck grew hotter and hotter, radiating down my spine.

He's testing me, I thought, my jaw clenching. He's trying to force my aura out.

I forced my expression to remain completely blank, enduring the invisible agony in silence.

When we reached the private lounge on the upper floor, Mr. Klein was sitting alone in a leather armchair. An empty seat faced him, and a crystal glass rested on the glass table between them.

Dickson smiled gently, taking my hand and guiding me toward the chair. But before I could sit, Mr. Klein looked at his son.

"Give us a few minutes, Dickson," he said smoothly. "I d like to get to know your young lady."

Dicksons eyes softened, giving my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Of course, Father." He flashed me a warm glance before quietly stepping out of the room.

Once the heavy door clicked shut, I fixed my gaze on Mr. Klein. His face was a mask of cold hostility. He lifted his glass, took a slow sip, and set it back down.

"How old are you?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"I'm eighteen."

He nodded slowly, a dark glint in his eyes. "I know. I know you're eighteen."

Just then, the two men who had been following him earlier slipped into the room, taking their positions silently behind his chair. The moment they stepped closer, the burning around my neck intensified tenfold, making it almost impossible to breathe.

"Are you in pain, Miss Clark?" Mr. Klein asked suddenly, his sharp gaze monitoring every micro-expression on my face.

Even through the blinding heat searing my skin, I forced a sweet, innocent smile. "No, Mr. Klein. Why would I be in pain? I'm thoroughly enjoying your company."

Mr. Klein didn't look convinced. He tilted his head slightly, and the two men behind him leaned down, whispering low into his ear.

Their voices were muffled, but my heightened senses caught every single word: Sir. Are you certain its her?

I wanted to laugh right in their faces. Instead, I maintained my composure, sitting upright despite the burning agony.

Mr. Klein leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "You cannot marry my son. And I want you to stay far away from him."

I let out a soft, mocking scoff. "Is there a specific reason for that, Mr. Klein? As far as I know... your son is deeply in love with me."

"And you don't love him," Mr. Klein shot back instantly. "You never will."

"And I bet you don't love him either," I countered smoothly, leaning forward to match his stance. "So why stop me from marrying him? Perhaps... I'll grow to love him someday."

"No!" Mr. Klein roared.

His heavy fist slammed onto the thick table, and the solid wood shattered in half with a heavy crack both the glass shattered, spilling alcohol across the floor. I remained seated, entirely unbothered, watching him as he stood up, pointing a trembling finger at my face.

"Stay away from my son!" he growled, his voice vibrating with raw authority. "Stay away from anything connected to me!"

I slowly rose to my feet, meeting his deadly glare without a trace of fear. "Too late, Mr. Klein. I only came tonight to ask you for one thing... please, give your son the blessing he deserves."

Before he could unleash his fury, the door swung open behind us.

"What's going on in here, Father?!" Dickson rushed into the room, his eyes darting between his breathing father and the shattered table on the floor.

Mr. Klein turned sharply toward his son, his voice cold as ice. "I don't ever want to see you with this girl again. I will find someone worthy of becoming your wife."

Dickson froze, taking a step back in disbelief. "Father... I've loved Claire from the very first day I met her. I can't be with anyone else! And now that she's finally accepted me... you expect me to just throw that away?!"

"You cannot be with her!" Mr. Klein bellowed.

"But you haven't given him a single valid reason why he can't be with me, Mr. Klein," I added softly, my voice laced with gentle provocation.

Mr. Klein glared at me, realizing he couldn't reveal his true suspicions without exposing his own dark secrets to his son. Frustrated, he motioned to his two men, and the three of them quietly exited the room, leaving Dickson and me alone amidst the wreckage.

Dickson let out a shaky breath and turned to me, immediately taking both of my hands in his. His touch was warm, protective, and entirely innocent.

"I'll talk to my father," Dickson promised, his voice filled with tender emotion. "Please... don't take anything he said to heart." A hopeful, vulnerable smile spread across his handsome face. "I'm so happy you accepted me, Claire. I promise I'll do everything in my power to make this work."

I looked into his clear, honest eyes, a wave of complex emotion washing over me.

"Are you sure you will?" I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "Do you promise you'll never listen to your father... no matter what he says about me?"

Dickson didn't hesitate for a single second. He squeezed my hands tightly and nodded. "I promise."

Before I could react, he pulled me into a sudden, warm embrace, wrapping his arms securely around my waist. I froze. I couldn't even remember the last time another human being had held me like this.

Slowly, hesitatingly, I raised my arms and wrapped them around his shoulders, resting my head against his chest.

Forgive me, Dickson, I thought silently as his heart beat steadily against mine.

Without another word, Dickson gently took my hand, leading me back down the staircase and into the glittering lights of the party.