Page 2 of Anton

CHAPTER 1

MARCIE MATHEWS

SAME NIGHT – PARTY TIME

Tonight was my twenty-ninth birthday party, and my nerves were unravelling. Friends and clients from my event planning company, Exquisite Events, filled Glitz—a stunning private club owned by the Rominov family. I had planned the opening event when the club launched, and I adored everything about it—its sophisticated black marble decor, shimmering mirrors, and gilded accents. The place was lavish and exclusive. I usually loved it here, but tonight it wasn’t giving me the same thrill.

This was the night I’d been anticipating for weeks. I should have been in my element, savouring the excitement and basking in the spotlight. But I wasn’t. Two people I cared about most were missing—the ones I needed here. Claire, my best friend, was on her way, but Anton? I didn’t know if he’d even show.

After what happened the other night, maybe it was better if he didn’t. My chest tightened at the thought, the buzz of conversation around me fading into a dull hum.

My crush, Anton DuPont, had friend-zoned me ages ago, a decision I’d reluctantly accepted. But then, a couple of nights ago, we danced, he kissed me, and for two blissful seconds, it felt perfect—until he pulled back, muttering it was a mistake, leavingme stranded on the dance floor, heart shattered. Rejected. And not for the first time. The memories clawed at me as I pretended to laugh at something someone said, clutching my champagne glass like it was my lifeline.

Trying to channel my usual bubbly self, I chatted loudly with my friends Gracie, Sonia, and Eilidh. All of them were expecting and in love, discussing babies and doting partners, and I felt a pang of envy I couldn’t quite hide. They had the kind of love I dreamed of. Meanwhile, my world revolved around a man determined to keep me at arm’s length.

Claire’s arrival saved me. I squealed, hugging her tightly.

“Happy birthday, birthday girl!” she exclaimed, her smile brightening my mood. She held out a pretty gift bag, the sparkly wrapping catching the light. “Where do you want me to put your gift?”

“Beside the bar,” I told her, flicking my hand in the direction as my gaze slipped towards the entrance again, searching, always searching.

“Great, I’ll grab myself a drink while I’m at it. Want anything?” she asked.

“Hell yeah! Hit me up with a double shot of tequila. Actually, just bring the bottle, and we’ll do a round of shots,” I said, flashing a wicked grin.

Claire quirked an eyebrow. “You really want to go there this early? Don’t you think you should pace yourself a bit?”

“I’ll be fine. I need a little liquid courage tonight.” I took a sip of champagne, the bubbles tingling on my tongue. The heavy beats of music pulsed through the air, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace. But still, it did little to settle my nerves.

Her lips pursed. “Everything alright?”

“Fine,” I replied, nodding and forcing a smile. Claire’s eyes narrowed, she knew me too well; tequila was our “trouble withmen” drink of choice. But thankfully she didn’t say anything, just turned and headed to the bar.

The pressure of pretending everything was okay was getting to me, but as I glanced around, my heart stopped—Anton had arrived. He was here. My stomach flipped, the grin on my face suddenly genuine, yet a swarm of butterflies danced uneasily in my chest.

“Anton is here, Anton is here,”the annoying little voice in my head sang as my stomach churned with excitement.

Claire returned, setting down the tequila and some shot glasses, but my attention was on Anton as he approached, his gaze meeting mine with a flicker of something unreadable. As he leaned down and brushed his lips against my cheek, an electric current coursed through me and I shuddered in delight. His eyes darkened, and I was sure I saw my own desire reflected there.

“Happy birthday, Marcie. You look beautiful. I hope you like my gift,” he murmured, handing me a small box.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling widely. “What is it?” I asked.

“I’ll let you open it later. I don’t want to spoil the surprise. I will say, they reminded me of your stunning eyes,” he replied.

I raised an eyebrow. “Wow, there is some high praise coming from you tonight, Anton. First beautiful, and now stunning eyes?”

“Both of which are true,” he said, letting his gaze slide over me in appreciation and sending a rush of wetness straight to my core. Oh my!

“Why, I do believe you’re flirting with me, sir,” I said, placing my hand over my heart and batting my eyelids, feigning innocence like some lady from the 19th century.

The sexy ex-soldier’s eyes flared when I called him sir. He liked it, and that revelation sent a shiver of desire through me.

My heart leapt—maybe he’d thought about things, changed his mind. Perhaps he was finally ready to admit our attraction was mutual. My insides did a little happy dance at the thought.

“Sit with me?” I asked, hope slipping into my voice.

His eyes darkened, and I held my breath.Please say yes, please say yes, that little voice chanted, and for a moment I thought he was going to do just that. But then he tensed, his gaze shuttering and he shook his head.

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