The ballroom shimmered with chandeliers and champagne, wealth, power, and whispers cloaked in satin and silk. Elena descended the marble staircase like a queen entering her court.
Tonight, she wasn't invisible.
She wore a blood-red gown that hugged her figure and made heads turn. The slit up her thigh and the plunging neckline weren't for attention.
They were a warning.
A Hale Corp executive approached her, smirking. "Didn't expect to see you here, Miss Bennett. Stunning, as always."
He placed a hand on her bare back, just a moment too long.
Before Elena could pull away, a figure appeared at her side.
Cold. Tall. Possessive.
Damian.
He didn't say a word. He simply gripped Elena's waist, spun her toward him, and kissed her.
Hard. Deep. Claiming.
The music dimmed in her ears. The crowd gasped.
And for a moment, Elena forgot where she was, forgot the plan, the lies, the revenge.
All she felt was his mouth on hers, hot and demanding.
Then it ended.
Damian stepped back, jaw tight, eyes burning. The air around them crackled.
Guests stared. Cameras flashed.
Elena regained her breath and composure.
She leaned in, lips brushing his ear.
"That wasn't in the contract," she whispered, voice smooth as silk.