The Vale estate gleamed beneath the moonlight, an architectural marvel that screamed power and lineage. Adrian had grown up within these walls, yet every time he stepped through its arched doors, he felt like an imposter in his own home. Tonight was no exception.
Maya walked beside him, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. She had hesitated before accepting his invitation, but Adrian knew he couldn't face this gathering alone. His family's galas were more than parties—they were silent battlegrounds dressed in silk and champagne.
The chandelier above the grand hall spilled golden light over a sea of elegant guests. Men in tailored suits clinked glasses while women in glittering gowns whispered behind jeweled fans. Every head seemed to turn when Adrian entered, their smiles sharp, their gazes assessing. And when their eyes slid to Maya, the weight of their curiosity was nearly suffocating.
Maya smoothed the fabric of her gown, her light brown eyes betraying her discomfort. Adrian tightened his hold on her hand, grounding her.
"You don't have to say a word," he murmured. "Just stay by me."
She nodded, though her heart raced. This wasn't her world, and she wasn't sure she wanted it to be.
"Adrian," a voice called, warm and commanding. His mother.
Cassandra Vale descended the grand staircase like royalty, her presence commanding the attention of the entire hall. Diamond earrings caught the light as her gaze swept over Maya before returning to her son. A smile curved her lips, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"You brought a guest," she said, as though it were a challenge.
"Maya," Adrian introduced firmly, "this is my mother."
Maya offered her hand politely. Cassandra's shake was cool, measured.
"How… refreshing," she said, tilting her head. "You usually keep your personal life private, Adrian."
"Some things deserve to be seen," Adrian replied smoothly, his jaw tight.
Maya felt the sting beneath Cassandra's words. She wasn't dressed in designer labels. She didn't know which fork belonged to which course. And she certainly didn't carry a last name that could open doors in New York or Paris.
As the night unfolded, Maya stayed close, watching Adrian navigate the crowd with effortless charm. But she could feel the subtle barbs in every conversation. Questions about her occupation. Comments about her "unique" style. Comparisons to the women Adrian had been linked to in the tabloids—heiresses, actresses, socialites.
Maya wasn't sure if she should shrink away or stand taller.
During a lull, Adrian leaned down. "Are you alright?"
She forced a smile. "I've had easier evenings."
His lips twitched. "You're doing better than I did at your bookstore."
The memory of his awkward attempt to browse novels made her chuckle softly, easing her tension. And yet, the walls seemed to close in again when a man in his forties approached—a tall, imposing figure with Adrian's sharp jawline and steel-blue eyes.
"Father," Adrian said evenly.
Charles Vale's gaze flickered over Maya, a silent calculation. He didn't extend his hand. Instead, he turned to Adrian with the air of a man used to being obeyed.
"The investors are here. We'll discuss the expansion project. Join me."
"Not tonight," Adrian said without hesitation.
Charles's eyes narrowed. "Don't embarrass yourself—or this family." His voice dropped, carrying weight that only Adrian could fully understand.
Maya's chest tightened. She wanted to reach for him, to tell his father that Adrian was more than a business pawn. But Adrian only met his father's stare head-on, the tension crackling between them like a storm waiting to break.
When Charles finally walked away, Maya whispered, "Adrian…"
He exhaled slowly, a hand dragging through his hair. "This is why I left. Why I built my own life. But they keep pulling me back."
Maya touched his arm gently. "Then keep standing your ground. You're not alone in it anymore."
Her words caught him off guard. For years, Adrian had felt like the black sheep, the disappointment who refused to carry the Vale legacy. Yet here was Maya—someone from a world so different from his—offering him the one thing he'd never had in these halls: loyalty without conditions.
As the orchestra swelled in the background, Adrian guided Maya onto the terrace. The cool night air washed over them, a reprieve from the suffocating ballroom. Stars scattered across the velvet sky, reflected in Maya's eyes as she looked at him.
"You don't belong here," he said softly.
"Neither do you," she countered.
The truth in her words struck deep. He reached up, brushing a loose curl from her face. Her breath hitched, the air between them thick with unspoken things. For a moment, the noise of the gala faded, leaving only the thrum of their hearts.
"Maya," he murmured, his voice raw, "being here with you—it's the first time this place hasn't felt like a prison."
Her pulse quickened, her gaze locked on his. She knew what was coming, knew she should pull away before they crossed another invisible line. But she didn't.
When Adrian's lips touched hers, it was nothing like the staged perfection of the world inside. It was real—messy, desperate, and alive.
And for the first time that night, Maya didn't care who was watching.