Evelyn Archer

I stared at my reflection in the ornate mirror, barely recognising the woman looking back at me.

The white one shoulder pleated maxi dress hugged my frame, too thin, I noted with a frown and despite the elegance of the fabric, I couldn't shake the feeling that I looked washed out.

Crusty, even.

My blue eyes, usually my best feature, appeared dull and lifeless, shadowed by too many sleepless nights spent poring over reading cases.

I reached for my diamond stud earrings, my fingers trembling slightly as I secured the second one.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Miss Evelyn."

I glanced up to find Danica standing in the doorway, her eyes wide with genuine admiration.

She had a habit of appearing at exactly the right or wrong moments.

I shook my head, turning back to my reflection.

"Don't appease me, Danica. I know I look thin, I have lost way too much weight and I look weird."

"No," she insisted, crossing the room with quick, purposeful steps. "The white dress makes your blue eyes pop even more today. You look radiant." She paused, glancing at the diamond encrusted watch on the dresser. "The party starts in half an hour. Your family is waiting for you."

I exhaled a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding, the words escaping before I could stop them.

"No one is waiting for me, Danica. You wouldn't understand."

Her concerned eyes met mine in the mirror, and I knew she'd heard me. She had the decency not to comment, though the sympathy in her expression made me feel uncomfortable.

I wasn't sure whether I agreed being in the party, but I nodded anyway.

We left my cabin together, stepping into the grandeur of the magnificent cruise that was the Celestial Empress.

The cruise ship lived up to its reputation as the most exclusive vessel on the ocean. Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across marble floors so polished I could see my reflection.

Rich mahogany panels lined the walls, interspersed with gilt framed paintings that probably cost more than most people's homes.

Guests in designer gowns and tailored tuxedos milled about in clusters, their laughter tinkling like wind chimes as they sipped champagne and whispered about business deals and political alliances.

Several people nodded respectfully as I passed.

I sae some famous people and out of them I saw famous singer and popstar Rhysa McLair then there was Vanderbilt heiress and then a tech mogul whose name I couldn't quite remember. I returned their acknowledgments with practiced smile.

This was my world. Beautiful, polished, and somehow utterly hollow.

The main party hall sprawled before us as we entered, a vision of excess that would have impressed even the most jaded socialite.

Floor to ceiling windows overlooked the ocean, while servers in crisp white uniforms circulated with trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne. A string quartet played in the corner, their music barely audible over the din of conversation.

"Evelyn. Finally."

My mother's voice cut through the noise like a blade.

Delaney Archer stood near the center of the room, every inch the politician's wife in her navy evening gown and pearl necklace. Her dark hair was pulled into a severe bun that accentuated her sharp cheekbones. She looked elegant, intimidating and cold as usual.

"Mom." I approached her and my father, who stood beside her with a tumbler of scotch in hand.

Lucien Archer, my father possessed the same blue eyes I'd inherited, though his held a shrewdness mine lacked.

To the world, he was a strict, ruthless politician and businessman. To me, he was simply Dad a man who loved me in his own complicated way.

"You look lovely, sweetheart," he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

"The young lady finally decided to grace us with her presence," my mother cut in, her smile not matching the ice in her tone.

"Though I suppose we should be grateful you showed up at all, given how little attention you pay to family affairs."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard.

"I've been busy with-"

"Your company, yes. While your father fights for this family's future." She took a delicate sip of her champagne. "The election is in three months, Evelyn. Three months that will determine whether the Archer name retains any meaning at all."

Or whether we go completely bankrupt, I thought but didn't say.

The world saw the Archers as one of the most powerful political families in the country. What they didn't know was that my father's two failed presidential campaigns had drained our coffers nearly dry.

My law firm was already profitable and well established, and its income had quietly become something my family relied on.

Even if no one would say it out loud.

"I understand, mom."

"Do you?" She arched one perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Then perhaps you'll be more receptive to the introductions your father has arranged this evening."

I should have known.

Over the next hour, my father paraded me before a succession of eligible bachelors like I was a prize mare at auction.

There was Harrison Covington, heir to a shipping empire. George DuPont, a venture capitalist with more money than sense. Even Lord something or other from England, though I'd stopped paying attention to their titles after the third introduction.

They were all the same. Polished, ambitious. Looking at me not as a person but as an opportunity, a connection to my father's political machine.

I ignored them all.

My father was trying to use me as leverage, to shore up alliances and secure financial backing through marriage. I understood the strategy and I even understood the desperation behind it.

But I wouldn't be sold. Not for his presidency. Not for anyone.

The party blurred around me as I retreated into myself. Everywhere I looked, I saw the same thing, fake smiles, opportunistic handshakes, relationships built on transactions rather than trust. Politicians courting celebrities. Businessmen schmoozing royalty. Everyone angling for their next big break.

It made me sick, somehow. I could sense the fakeness and it disturbed me.

I grabbed a champagne flute from a passing server and downed it in three swallows, then slammed the empty glass onto a nearby table hard enough that several people turned to stare.

I needed air. Fresh air.

The open deck was blessedly empty when I stepped outside. Evening had fallen, and though the sun had dipped below the horizon, its lingering rays painted the sky in shades of coral and violet.

The ocean stretched endlessly before me, dark and unknowable. We are also few hours away from reaching the island. Perhaps in an hour or two.

I gripped the railing and closed my eyes, letting the salt tinged breeze wash over my face. The spray of seawater kissed my skin, cool and cleansing. For the first time all evening, I could breathe.

"Evelyn."

The voice came from behind me, familiar, haunting. My eyes snapped open, recognising his voice. My hands tightened on the railing until my knuckles turned white.

No. It couldn't be. Not here. Not now.

I spun around, my heart hammering against my ribs, but there was no one there. Just shadows and the echo of a voice that shouldn't exist.

I was losing my mind. Again.

The cold suddenly felt oppressive rather than refreshing. I needed to get back to my cabin, to lock the door and pretend this night had never happened.

I hurried back inside, descending the stairs toward the main lobby.

As I reached the landing, a powerful fragrance hit me, something dark and expensive, cedar and amber with an underlying note of darkness.

Someone had just passed me on the stairs, heading up toward the party.

I glanced back and caught a glimpse of a tall man in a black suit, his broad shoulders filling the stairwell as he climbed toward the party hall. Something about him made me pause, but I shook it off and continued toward my cabin.

I'd barely made it ten steps when I heard people screaming.

"Fire!"

"Everyone out!"

"There's a fire!"

I whirled around to see people streaming out of the party hall, their faces twisted in panic. The orderly elegance of moments before had dissolved into chaos as guests shoved and stumbled over one another in their desperation to escape.

My parents.

Without thinking, I ran back up the stairs, fighting against the current of bodies pushing past me.

Smoke billowed from the party hall entrance, acrid and choking.

"Evelyn!" My father's hand caught mine as he emerged from the smoke, my mother beside him.

"Get out of here. Now."

But before we could move, I saw it, flames licking up the balcony area, consuming the elegant drapes and spreading across the wooden fixtures with terrifying speed. The smoke was getting thicker, darker.

We stumbled down the stairs with everyone else, coughing and gasping. The crowd spilled into the main deck area, a mass of panicked bodies and raised voices.

"Janice! Has anyone seen Janice?"

A woman pushed through the crowd, her face pale with terror. "My daughter, she's only eight! I can't find her!"

She tried to rush back toward the hall, but two crew members held her back.

"Ma'am, you can't go in ther-"

"My baby is in there!"

And something snapped inside me. I didn't think. I didn't plan. I just ran.

"Evelyn, no!"

My father's shout followed me, along with my mother's screams, but I didn't stop. I pushed past the crew members and plunged back into the smoke filled hall.

The heat hit me immediately, a wall of suffocating air that seared my lungs with every breath. I used my hands to cover my nose and mouth, squinting through the thick smoke. The elegant party hall had transformed into a hellscape of flames and shadows.

The cruise lurched suddenly, throwing me off balance.

I realised we must have reached the dockyard. I stumbled but caught myself on a overturned chair, my eyes streaming from the smoke as I searched desperately for any sign of the child.

The flames raging up and the smoke coming out of the balcony area was the worst scene.

And yet, I ran toward it, ducking under a falling beam and skirting around a burning curtain that had collapsed onto the floor. The heat was unbearable.

Sweat poured down my face, or maybe it was tears, I couldn't tell anymore.

And then I saw her. A small figure huddled under a table, motionless.

"Janice!"

I started toward her, but before I could reach the child, I heard a terrible creaking sound above me. I looked up just in time to see a massive curtain rod break free from the ceiling, wrapped in flames, falling directly toward me.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything but watch my own death descend.

Suddenly strong arms wrapped around me, yanking me backward with such force that I slammed against a solid chest. The burning curtain crashed to the floor where I'd been standing just seconds before, sending up a shower of sparks.

I was spun around roughly, and found myself staring up into a pair of intense hazel brown eyes. He was even more imposing up close, tall, powerfully built, with sharp features that the dancing firelight rendered almost demonic.

The flames reflected in his eyes, turning them molten.

His hands gripped my arms, firm enough to bruise.

"Let go!" I tried to wrench away from him. There was something in him that scared me even though he was the one who just saved my life.

But he released me immediately.

I didn't have time to process what had just happened. I turned back to the table where the child lay and rushed toward her, dropping to my knees and crawling underneath.

"God please save the child. Please be alive. Please, please, please."

My fingers found her pulse point and I heaved out a sigh of relief when I felt the pulse. Weak, but steady.

"Thank God," I couldn't help cry out as I gathered the small body into my arms, trying to shield her from the smoke. Behind me, I heard the crash and I looked back to find the man kicking aside a burning chair that had fallen too close to us.

When I emerged from under the table with Janice in my arms, I witnessed my escape route now blocked. The entrance I'd used was now completely engulfed in flames.

The man appeared at my side instantly.

"Stay close."

His voice was deep, commanding. Not a request, an order.

I looked up at him, then down at the unconscious child in my arms, and nodded.

He grabbed a chair and used it like a battering ram, shoving aside burning furniture to clear a path. I followed in his wake, trying not to think about the flames that seemed to reach for us like living things.

We reached the stairs and I started running, but my foot caught on something, debris, my own dress, I didn't know. My ankle twisted violently and I let out a sharp hiss of pain, stumbling.

But before I could fall, before I could even register what was happening, the man held me by my shoulders and I looked up at him.

Before I could register whats going on, he scooped me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing. One arm under my knees, the other supporting my back, while I clutched the child against my chest.

"I can wal-"

"No, you can't."

He was right. My ankle was already swelling, throbbing with each heartbeat.

He carried us both out of the inferno, his stride never faltering under our combined weight. I looked up at his face.

There was something furious in his eyes, something that made my breath catch. His expression remained unreadable, yet sweat beaded along his brow. He never slowed, never hesitated, until he had walked us out.

The moment we cleared the doorway, crew members rushed forward. The child's mother let out a sob and ran toward us, her arms outstretched.

"Janice my girl, mom's here, oh my girl,"

The man set me down carefully, and I immediately transferred Janice into her mother's desperate embrace.

"Thank you, thank you so much for saving my daughter," The woman was crying, thanking me over and over, but I barely heard her.

My parents appeared, my father's face white with fury and fear as they looked down at my injured ankle.

"Evelyn, what were you thinkin-"

"I'm fine, Dad." My mother wrapped her arm around my waist while my father supported me from the other side, taking my weight off my injured ankle.

But before they could lead me away, I remembered.

I turned back, searching for the man who'd saved my life. He stood a few feet away, adjusting his suit jacket as if he'd just stepped out of a business meeting rather than a burning place.

His sleeves were scorched, ash clinging to the fabric as he brushed it away without looking. His hazel eyes were already on me steady, intense, impossible to read and I felt the weight of his gaze long before he moved.

Our gazes locked for some seconds.

In that moment, with the sounds of the fire crew rushing past us and my parents trying to pull me away, something passed between us.

He didn't smile. Didn't nod. Just looked at me with those burning eyes as if he could see straight through to my soul.

Then my father tugged me forward, and the moment broke.

I let them lead me away, but I couldn't help glancing back one more time.

He was still watching me. Still standing there like a dark pillar amid the chaos, untouched and untouchable.

The fire crew swarmed around him, but he didn't move. Didn't look away.

***

A/N,

Jaded is a dark romance with intense themes and morally grey characters. Please read at your own discretion.

This story is a work in progress, while I update, feel free to check out my other book "All That Remains."

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