Noah Blake was the kind of man who commanded attention just by walking into a room. With tall, broad shoulders and piercing grey eyes that mirrored the storm he'd weathered in his youth, he was every bit the definition of power and discipline. A top-tier lawyer who now owned a multi-billion-dollar firm, Noah had built his empire from the ashes of tragedy. Not just respected in courtrooms, he was a mogul whose name floated through social circles and business meetings with both admiration and intimidation.
But what the world didn't know was that beneath his impenetrable demeanour lay a wounded heart.
Years ago, when he was in high school, life had dealt him a blow no teenager should ever face. He and his younger sister, Isabelle Blake, had been at home when armed robbers broke in. The memory of their parents being shot right before their eyes haunted him daily. Their father had just returned from work, and their mother had been preparing dinner. The robbers were masked, cold-blooded, and heartless. Noah remembered every terrifying detail — the screams, the gunshots, the blood on the tiles.
He had held Isabelle tightly as their father collapsed in front of the living room fireplace. His mother's last words still echoed in his ears, whispered in fear and sorrow as she reached for him in her final moments. That night, Noah made a silent vow: he would become a lawyer and dedicate his life to justice. He would fight for the weak, track down monsters like those who had ruined their childhood, and bring them to justice.
Thanks to a significant inheritance and Noah's unyielding resolve, he and Isabelle survived. He raised her like a father, brother, and best friend all in one. Over time, she became his soft spot, his tether to a more tender version of himself. Whatever she wanted, she got. There was no room for debate. And he kept his promise — Isabelle never lacked a thing.
As the years went on, Noah grew into a man of discipline, vision, and control. He became the youngest partner in his law firm before starting his own. He took cases that made headlines, defended clients the world had given up on, and slowly climbed to the top. The justice system became his playground — and his battlefield. He made sure no one ever felt as helpless as he had that night.
But love? That was a different war — one he chose never to fight.
"Noah, you have to stop being so stubborn," Isabelle said one morning over breakfast, waving her spoon as she tried to make a point.
He folded his arms and leaned against the marble kitchen counter in his penthouse apartment. "What is it now?"
She straightened in her chair, brushing her long brown curls behind her ear. "There's this elite blind date event this Friday. Classy. Private. Secure. No press. No drama."
Noah arched a brow. "And what does that have to do with me?"
She sighed dramatically. "I want a sister-in-law."
His lips twitched, caught between amusement and exasperation. "You want what?"
"You heard me." Isabelle stood up and moved closer. "Noah, you've been working nonstop. You've built a business, a name, a life. But you're not living. You don't even date anymore. Don't you think it's time you gave love a chance?"
He looked away briefly, grabbing his coffee. Love. That was a foreign word to him. Something distant. Messy. Distracting. Something he'd buried under case files and boardroom meetings.
"A lot of people find their soulmates at this kind of event," Isabelle pressed. "It's worth trying. The lady that sells books down the street assured me it's worth it, besides she says her niece would be attending too.
You'll meet someone you love. No pressure. No media. Just... possibilities."
He turned back to her slowly. "Isabelle. You know why I don't do these things."
"Yes, I do," she replied gently. "But Mom and Dad would've wanted you to be happy. You've done enough surviving, Noah. You deserve more than that."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Noah sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. Fine. I'll attend the blind date."
Isabelle's smile lit up the room. "You will?"
"Would that make you feel better?"
"It would make me so happy," she beamed.
"When is this thing?" he asked, setting his cup down.
"Friday, 7:30 p.m. I'll send the name of your date and the location across to you."
"I'll need the details," he said, grabbing his blazer from the back of the chair and slipping it on.
She followed him to the door. "Can I pick out what you'll wear?"
"Not."
She giggled. "Okay, okay. Can I at least pick your cologne?"
He opened the door. "You've said enough."
"Sure. You can go now," Isabelle said, satisfied. "But trust me, Noah. You won't regret this."
He gave her one last amused glance before disappearing down the hallway.
Back in her apartment, Isabelle pulled out her phone and typed out a message to the event organizer.
> Confirm Noah Blake's attendance. Pair him with Elena Carter Grace.
She smirked.
Let the fireworks begin.
Friday arrived with an electric charge in the air. Noah sat in the back of his black Bentley, checking his watch as the driver pulled up in front of the luxury lounge that had been rented out for the event. Outside, there were no reporters, no cameras. Just a glowing sign that read: Evening of Hearts — Exclusive Blind Date Night.
He stepped out, dressed in a fitted black suit and an elegant watch that gleamed under the lights. His presence, as always, turned heads — even before anyone knew his name.
Inside the hall, the setting was warm and intimate. Soft music played in the background. Candles flickered at each table. Everyone was given a name card to find their match for the evening. Noah took his card, scanning it with mild interest.
Elena Carter Grace.
A name he didn't recognize.
He walked toward the designated table, expecting a typical evening — small talk, forced smiles, maybe an excuse to leave early.
But as he approached, time stalled.
There she was.
Sitting with her back straight, a wine glass in hand, was a woman he never thought he'd meet again — not like this.
Noah froze for a moment, his mind racing. Elena Carter Grace. His worker's ex.
She looked just as stunning as he remembered. Smooth caramel skin, high cheekbones, and those sharp hazel eyes that didn't miss a thing. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, and her dress — elegant yet understated — fit her like it was made just for her.
She looked up and blinked.
Their eyes met.
"Noah Blake?"
"Elena."
For a moment, the world held its breath.
They stared at each other, old memories flickering between them like ghosts.
"Of all people," she said with a small laugh, trying to hide her nerves.
"I was about to say the same," he replied, pulling out the chair and sitting across from her.
For a moment, silence hovered. Then Elena spoke.
"Let me guess. You were forced to come too?"
"Completely," Noah nodded.
"My parents arranged this," she said, sipping her drink. She
"My sister," he replied with a shrug.
They both laughed softly.
"Well, then," Elena said with a faint smile, "maybe we pretend to be a couple for the night. Save each other from any awkward interruptions."
"Deal," Noah replied.
And as they clinked their glasses together, neither of them could deny the spark — the tension — that was already stirring beneath the surface.
Pretending had never felt so real.