The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
Not uncontrolled.
But deeply, fiercely possessive.
Hua Jing froze for half a second.
Her breath caught.
She had worn countless gowns before.
But never one that made him look at her like that.
Looking at her expression, Fu Jingrong only smiled faintly, satisfied with her reaction, before reaching for her hand.
"Let's go," he said softly.
...
The gala was, as Indigo Beauty had promised, elegant without being excessive. There were no blinding LED tunnels or theatrical smoke machines, no over-the-top spectacle meant to overwhelm the senses.
Instead, the venue was draped in warm golden lighting, soft floral installations arranged in sweeping arcs along the entrance, and subtle notes of saffron and white rose perfuming the air. It was refined. Intentional. Every detail carefully curated to reflect the theme of the evening—Eternal Bloom.
Yet simple did not mean small.
