The night air clung to Maya's skin, cool and sharp, but the heat of Adrian's lips lingered as if branded. She hadn't planned for it, hadn't expected it, and yet she hadn't pulled away. The kiss had been both a spark and an earthquake, shaking her carefully built walls.
When Adrian finally drew back, his forehead rested against hers. His breath was unsteady, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that betrayed how deeply the moment had undone him too.
"I shouldn't have done that here," he whispered, his voice husky, almost ragged. "But I couldn't stop myself."
Maya's fingers trembled where they clutched the railing. Her heart screamed at her to say something—anything—but her mind spun in chaos. What did this mean? What would it cost her?
Before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the fragile bubble around them.
"Adrian," Cassandra's voice cut through the night like a blade. She stood in the doorway, poised and elegant, though her eyes burned with quiet fury. "A word."
Adrian straightened, his hand instinctively finding Maya's. "If it concerns business, it can wait."
"This isn't business," Cassandra replied, her gaze flickering to Maya with chilling precision. "It's about appearances."
Maya stiffened, the weight of the older woman's disapproval pressing on her chest. She had known Cassandra would be difficult, but she hadn't anticipated the open hostility.
Adrian's jaw tightened. "Then say what you want to say."
His mother's lips curved into a brittle smile. "I only wonder if this is wise. Our world is… delicate. Every move scrutinized. Do you truly think parading around with—" Her eyes swept over Maya, dismissive. "—someone unprepared for it won't damage you?"
Maya's throat tightened, heat rising behind her eyes. She wanted to protest, to remind Cassandra she wasn't a scandal or a steppingstone. But before she could find her voice, Adrian stepped forward, shielding her with his presence.
"Careful," he warned. "You're speaking about the woman I brought here. The woman I chose to stand beside me."
The declaration startled Maya as much as it silenced his mother. Cassandra's eyes narrowed, but she turned on her heel, her gown sweeping like smoke behind her as she retreated into the hall.
For a moment, silence reigned on the terrace. Then Maya exhaled shakily. "Adrian… that was—"
"Necessary," he interrupted, softer now. "You don't deserve her venom."
Maya searched his face, struck by the ferocity in his defense. No one had ever spoken for her like that—not since her parents, not since she'd decided she was better off alone than let anyone close enough to hurt her again.
But the cost of being near him was already becoming clear.
"Your family doesn't want me here," she said quietly.
"They don't get to decide that," Adrian replied firmly, his hand still wrapped around hers. His voice carried a conviction that stirred something dangerous in her chest.
Still, doubt gnawed at her. "And what happens when they make you choose?"
His blue eyes locked on hers, steady and unyielding. "Then I choose you."
Her heart stuttered. The words felt too big, too soon, yet undeniably sincere. Before she could respond, the orchestra's music swelled again inside, a reminder that the night—and its eyes—wasn't over.
They reentered the ballroom together. Whispers buzzed louder now, lips curling into speculation. Maya felt their gazes scraping over her like judgment. But Adrian kept her close, his arm brushing hers as they navigated the glittering crowd.
At the bar, a familiar figure appeared—Lydia Moreau, a socialite whose name often graced the society pages alongside Adrian's. Her smile was as sharp as her emerald gown.
"Well, well," Lydia purred. "Adrian Vale, finally daring to shock us all." Her gaze slid to Maya, openly appraising. "And you must be the reason the tabloids have been quiet lately. How quaint."
Adrian's expression hardened. "Lydia, not tonight."
But Lydia leaned closer, lowering her voice just enough for Maya to hear. "They'll never accept her, you know. And when they force you back into your cage, don't expect her to survive the fall."
Maya's stomach twisted. She turned away, unwilling to give Lydia the satisfaction of seeing her falter. But Adrian reached for her hand again, squeezing tight, as if anchoring her against the storm.
Later, when the gala wound down, Adrian led her outside to where his car waited. The silence between them was heavy, not with distance, but with everything left unsaid.
As they drove through the quiet streets, Maya finally spoke. "Adrian… I don't know if I can fit into that world. I don't even know if I want to."
He glanced at her, his profile etched in the glow of passing lights. "I'm not asking you to fit into it. I'm asking you to let me build something different—with you."
The sincerity in his voice unraveled her defenses. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that his world wouldn't crush her. But trust was something she hadn't given in years, and the risk felt enormous.
When he pulled up outside her apartment, he turned to her fully. "Maya, tonight was a mess. But the only part that felt right—the only part I want to remember—is you."
Her breath caught. His words wrapped around her heart like silk and steel, impossible to ignore.
For a long moment, she simply stared at him, torn between caution and the dangerous pull of something bigger than fear. Then, softly, she said, "You make it very hard to walk away."
His smile was faint, but it reached his eyes. "Good. Because I'm not letting you."
Maya stepped out of the car, her pulse still racing. As she climbed the stairs to her apartment, she knew the night had changed everything. She was no longer an observer on the edges of Adrian's life. She was tangled in it now, and escape would not be simple.
Inside, she pressed her back against the door, closing her eyes. For the first time in years, the solitude of her apartment felt different. Lonelier. And though she tried to silence the thought, one truth echoed in her chest—
She was already his.