Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze still fixed on Sofia, who seemed oblivious to the tension she'd created. The casual glint in Sofia's eye, the way she wore her actions with such pride—it unnerved Y/N more than anything. But she held her composure, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a slim business card.
"Sofia," she said, handing her the card. "We need to talk more about... everything. There's a lot to unpack here, and I want to be certain I understand it all."
Sofia took the card with a small, knowing smile, her manicured fingers tapping the edge. "Of course, Y/N. I'd be happy to go over the details whenever you like." She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Y/N's cheek. "And... I'm sorry if I said too much tonight. I thought you'd be in the loop. The last thing I wanted was to overstep."
Y/N forced a polite smile, nodding slightly. "We'll sort it out. I'll call you."
Sofia slipped her mask back on, her expression fading behind the delicate, glittering facade. With one last smile, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd with her red dress flowing behind her like a shadow.
Y/N lingered outside a moment longer, her mind reeling, then straightened, steeling herself. She took a final drag of her cigarette, extinguished it, and rejoined the gala, scanning the floor until her eyes landed on Elizabeth. She looked beautiful, radiant even, mingling with a small circle of admirers. She moved through the crowd toward her wife, feeling a strange mix of affection and guardedness that hadn't been there before.
Elizabeth turned just as Y/N approached, her face lighting up. "There you are," she murmured with a soft smile.
Y/N slipped an arm around Elizabeth's waist, brushing her hair aside and pressing a kiss to her neck. "Are you okay?"
Elizabeth let out a little sigh, leaning into her. "I'm a little tired, but I'm alright. Are you?"
Y/N nodded, her hand gently resting on Elizabeth's shoulder. "Yes, but... I'd like to talk to you for a moment. In private."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, but nodded. They moved toward a nearby hallway, slipping into a small, elegant restroom. Elizabeth laughed softly as the door clicked shut. "Really? The bathroom?" she teased.
"No one will come looking for us here," Y/N replied, locking the door behind her. She stepped closer, her hands settling on Elizabeth's waist. She kissed her softly, savoring the moment, but in the back of her mind, a question kept nagging. When she pulled back, she looked directly into Elizabeth's eyes.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," Elizabeth replied, her brow creasing slightly.
Y/N hesitated, brushing a thumb over Elizabeth's cheek. "Did your dad ever... make you do something you didn't want to? Like, did he ever force you to say certain things to me or act a certain way?"
Elizabeth frowned, her confusion evident. "Why are you asking me that?"
"Just a question," Y/N said softly. "I just... want you to know, Lizzie, you can tell me anything. If your dad ever pressured you or made you feel like you had to do something—anything—I'd understand, and we could work through it. I know he's... difficult. But I don't want you to feel trapped."
Elizabeth's face softened, and she wrapped her arms around Y/N's neck, pulling her close. "Y/N, he can be intense, yes, but don't worry about him. He doesn't decide what I do. Everything I've done... everything I do... is out of my own free will."
Y/N nodded, holding her a little tighter, but a seed of doubt lingered. She wanted to believe Elizabeth more than anything, to let the words sink in and reassure her. But Sofia's confession gnawed at her. She kissed Elizabeth again, gentler this time, hoping the affection between them could be enough to drown her fears.
"Just making sure," Y/N murmured. "I don't want anyone, not even your father, pressuring you."
Elizabeth smiled and gave a small shake of her head. "I promise you, I'm fine." She pulled back slightly, her eyes alight with excitement. "Now, can we get back to the party? Anna Wintour is here, and I was hoping to speak with her."
Y/N chuckled, nodding. "Go ahead. I'll be right behind you."
They shared one more kiss before Elizabeth slipped out of the bathroom, her steps light as she returned to the party. Y/N stayed behind, letting out a long breath as she leaned against the sink. She took her phone from her pocket, hesitating for a moment before opening a new text thread.
Y/N: "I need someone to talk to that I can trust. Are you busy Monday night?"
She hit send, her heart beating a little faster, and moments later, a reply came through.
Unknown: "I'm never too busy for you. Are we talking business or pleasure?"
Y/N allowed herself a faint smile, typing back.
Y/N: "Both. Pick a restaurant, I'll book a hotel. We can meet at 6:30. I know you like an early dinner. Do you want me to send a car?"
Unknown: "No need. I'll take a cab, New York style."
Y/N stared at the phone screen, feeling a twinge of anxious anticipation. She wanted to brush off Sofia's words, to file them away as meaningless, but the details she'd revealed—things only a select few knew—left a lingering discomfort.
Y/N returned to the party, putting on a neutral face as she joined the crowd again. Elizabeth was already in conversation with Anna Wintour, her excitement palpable. From across the room, Y/N watched her wife, beautiful and accomplished, the architect of the evening's success. Elizabeth thrived here, in this world of glamour and influence, speaking passionately about her fashion house, Casa Falcone.
Elizabeth looked up, catching Y/N's eye, and flashed her a warm smile. Y/N returned it, pushing down the doubts. Whatever happened, whatever lay ahead, she would face it. And for now, she'd be right by Elizabeth's side, she was gone with the lies and the secrets and the unfinished businesses.
If something had happened, Y/N was going to get to the bottom of it.
