The kiss lingered long after it ended, a soft burn on Maya's lips, a memory etched into her skin. She stood frozen on the terrace, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as Adrian's blue eyes locked with hers.
It would've been so easy to fall into him completely, to let herself be swept away by the intensity of his touch. But reality returned in a rush—the glittering lights inside, the polished laughter of people who belonged to Adrian's world, and the stark reminder that she was an outsider here.
She took a step back, creating space between them. "Adrian… I can't do this."
His jaw tightened, but his voice was gentle. "You already are."
"I don't belong here." She gestured toward the grand ballroom behind him. "This isn't my world. I don't know the rules, the expectations. I'll only embarrass you."
Adrian's expression darkened slightly, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "Maya, do you really think I care about what they think? I brought you here because you're the only person in this entire room who makes me feel like myself. Everyone else sees a last name, a fortune, a future I didn't choose. But you—you see me."
His words hit deep, and yet her doubts screamed louder. She had spent her whole life avoiding situations like this. She didn't want to be someone's weakness in a world full of sharp eyes and sharper tongues.
Before she could reply, the terrace doors opened. A tall woman swept outside, her figure regal in a deep navy gown that shimmered beneath the chandeliers inside. Her dark hair was pinned in an intricate style, and her every step carried the weight of authority.
"Adrian," she said smoothly, though her eyes flickered to Maya with thinly veiled curiosity. "You've been scarce tonight."
"Maya, this is my mother," Adrian said, his hand subtly brushing against Maya's back in silent reassurance. "Mother, this is Maya."
The woman's gaze lingered on Maya, sharp and assessing, as if peeling back her layers in an instant. "Maya," she repeated, the name tasting foreign on her tongue. "It's… unexpected to see you here."
Maya forced a polite smile. "It's a beautiful event."
"Of course it is." Mrs. Vale's lips curved in a faint smile, though it held little warmth. "Adrian, your father is looking for you. You know how important tonight is."
"I'll be there shortly," Adrian replied, his tone firm.
His mother's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but she didn't press. Instead, she inclined her head gracefully. "Don't take too long. Appearances matter." With that, she turned and disappeared back into the ballroom.
Maya exhaled slowly, her hands clenched at her sides. "She doesn't like me."
Adrian's hand found hers, threading their fingers together. "She doesn't know you. That's all."
But Maya wasn't convinced. There had been something in Mrs. Vale's gaze, a silent warning. As though Maya was stepping into territory she had no right to claim.
"Adrian," she whispered, her voice shaking, "your world is too different from mine. You have obligations, expectations… I'll only make things harder for you."
His grip tightened. "Do you think I haven't thought about that? I know it won't be easy. But Maya, I don't want easy. I want real. And for the first time in my life, I've found someone who makes me believe I can have that."
Her chest constricted, torn between fear and the undeniable pull she felt toward him. Adrian wasn't just another wealthy heir playing games. He was a man caught between duty and desire, and somehow, she had become the fragile thread holding him to the latter.
Inside, music swelled, and the laughter of the elite spilled onto the terrace. Adrian turned back to her, his expression earnest, almost pleading.
"Don't walk away from this," he said softly. "Don't walk away from me."
Maya's heart raced. She wanted to tell him she couldn't handle the weight of the Vale name, the scrutiny, the whispers. But when she looked into his eyes, she saw something she hadn't expected—fear. Not of her, but of losing her.
She swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "I'll stay. For now."
Relief washed over his features, and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "That's all I need."
Back inside, the ballroom seemed louder, brighter, overwhelming. Maya stayed close to Adrian, her hand still in his as he navigated the sea of familiar faces. She could feel the stares, the curiosity, the silent judgment.
"Adrian Vale, with a mystery woman?" she heard someone whisper behind a glass of champagne.
"They won't last," another murmured. "She's not one of us."
The words stung, but Adrian's hand tightened reassuringly around hers, as if he'd heard them too.
When they reached the front of the room, an older man with graying hair and an air of unshakable authority approached. His resemblance to Adrian was unmistakable—the sharp jawline, the commanding presence.
"Father," Adrian said evenly. "This is Maya."
Mr. Vale's gaze swept over her, cold and calculating. Unlike Mrs. Vale's subtle disapproval, his was blunt, written clearly across his expression. "Maya," he said, his tone clipped. "A pleasure."
Maya forced herself to meet his eyes. "The pleasure is mine, sir."
His lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Adrian, we'll discuss your… choices later." With that, he moved on, his attention already claimed by another guest.
Maya's chest tightened, but Adrian's arm slipped protectively around her waist. "Ignore him," he murmured. "He doesn't decide my life."
But Maya wasn't sure. She could feel the tension in Adrian's body, the unspoken battles he fought within these gilded walls.
For the rest of the evening, she played her part, smiling when introduced, nodding politely when spoken to. But beneath it all, doubt gnawed at her. Could she survive in this world of masks and expectations? Or would she be swallowed whole by the shadows of the Vale name?
Later, when the guests began to disperse, Adrian led her out into the night. The air was cool and quiet, a welcome contrast to the suffocating grandeur of the ballroom.
He turned to her, his eyes searching. "Still think you don't belong?"
Maya hesitated, then whispered, "I'm not sure I want to."
Adrian cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Then don't belong to them. Belong to me."
Her heart skipped, the weight of his words anchoring deep inside her. And for the first time, she wondered if maybe—just maybe—she could.