The evening glittered with ambition. Sir Joss, the celebrated scientist, was unveiling his latest technology, and the party promised more than champagne and chatter—alliances would be forged, rivalries deepened, and fortunes decided.
Serena stepped out of her Mercedes in a sleek black sleeveless gown, gloves framing her arms, hair swept into a regal bun crowned with a ruby clip. From the other side, Lydia emerged in a sapphire dress with a daring slit, her stride as smooth as her confidence.
The two women exchanged a glance before linking arms and gliding across the red carpet into Prestine Palace.
The irony stung. This lavish hotel belonged to the Cross family. Hosting Sir Joss's party here was a quiet victory for Caden Cross, a blow to Serena's pride.
"Sir Joss really knows how to balance the scale," Lydia murmured with a sly smile, tightening her hold on Serena's arm.
"He's a scientist, yes, but he plays politics better than most tycoons," Serena replied coolly. "Still, it doesn't matter. The Vale family holds the contract. We have exclusive rights to his A.I. technology. Let Caden enjoy his rented glory—he can't buy that." Her confident smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Right," Lydia echoed, though her gaze stayed sharp.
As the elevator doors opened to the grand banquet hall, golden chandeliers rained light over polished marble and velvet drapes. Laughter mingled with the clink of glasses, the very air humming with calculated charm.
Then Serena froze. That smirk. That stride. Caden Cross himself was approaching, glass of wine in hand, his friends trailing behind like shadows.
He didn't look at anyone else. His eyes—dark, deliberate, mocking—locked on her.
"Ladies," his husky voice rolled out, smooth as aged whiskey. He extended the glass to Serena, never breaking eye contact.
Her lips curved into a practiced smile, though her teeth pressed together. "Congratulations, Caden. You managed to host my partner's event at your palace."
Caden's grin widened as his glass clinked against hers. "Careful, Serena. Partners change. Next year, Sir Joss might prefer the Cross name. I'd hate to see your little contract expire."
The wine was sweet, but the air between them tasted of war.
"Huh… we'll see." Serena rolled her eyes, downed the entire glass in one smooth motion, and swept past him with a swish of her gown.
Lydia caught Serena's retreat and slipped away in another direction, after Ritiv's gaze teased her in silence.
After exchanging pleasantries with Sir Joss and a cluster of businessmen, Serena finally sank into a velvet chair. Her legs ached; hours in stilettos tested even her poise. She crossed one ankle over the other, masking relief with elegance.
Ten steps away, Caden stood in easy conversation with a group of investors, his laughter low and magnetic. Yet, his gaze kept straying. He wasn't a man prone to romantic daydreams—but something about Serena Vale pulled his attention like gravity.
"Kid, are you ready for marriage yet?" a cheerful voice cut through his focus. His uncle, glass in hand, had followed his wandering eyes.
Caden gave a small shake of the head, lips curving. "Marriage is the least of my concerns."
"Ah, don't be so cold." The older man chuckled, stroking his mustache as his own eyes flicked toward Serena. "If you like someone, tell me. I'll help you in every way."
Caden's smile thinned.
"What about that scandal yesterday?" his uncle pressed. "The tabloids claimed you were with some celebrity."
He gave a quiet laugh, dismissive. "Not at all. A kitten tried to claw her way into fame with fake photos. Nothing real. If it were, you'd already know." His eyes, however, betrayed him—drifting back to Serena's poised figure across the room.
His uncle caught the glance, and amusement deepened in his features. "Well, your family has already found a girl for you. How about marrying her?"
Caden's brow lifted, genuine surprise flickering across his face. For twenty-nine years, no one had pushed him about marriage. His freedom had been absolute. Yet now, the invisible weight of expectation pressed against him.
Marriage. The word itself soured his mood.
He cleared his throat, jaw tightening. "It seems they are looking," he admitted at last, "but I'm not ready. I want love, not an arrangement."
The uncle leaned closer, eyes twinkling. "Then tell me, Caden—what kind of woman do you like?"
Caden leaned back slightly, mulling over his uncle's question. After a pause, he admitted, "Maybe someone… sweet. Someone I don't have to compete with every damn minute."
His uncle chuckled. "That's an odd way to put it. But speaking of competition—I heard Serena Vale has agreed to marry whomever her family chooses. Seems you'll be losing to her in marriage as well."
The words were deliberately baited, but effective. Caden's brows drew together, his teeth pressing against his lower lip in irritation. "She's… going to marry?"
"Yes, my child, and you know wha—"
The old man never finished. Caden had already straightened, a cold smile cutting across his face as he strode off.
His uncle watched him go, both amused and intrigued. Goodness… all these years we thought it was childish rivalry. But is it really just rivalry anymore?
Caden was already in front of her, his gaze lingering not on her face but on the faint red marks across her toes from the heels she'd endured all evening. Without a word, he sank into the chair opposite her, snatched a pastry from a passing tray, and leaned back as though he owned the seat.
Serena's brows knitted. "What—"
"It seems Serena Vale has finally decided to settle down," he cut in smoothly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Now I can stop worrying about paparazzi hounding me. You'll be too busy with your fiancé to meddle in my headlines." His smile was pure taunt.
Serena sighed, fatigue pressing down on her shoulders. She had spent the entire evening balancing conversations with strangers and allies alike—yet somehow, this man was still the most exhausting part of the night. She forced a graceful smile.
"What can we do? We're grown now. Eventually, everyone must choose a partner to spend their life with. We can't stay trapped in rivalry forever, can we?"
Her tone was wise, her smile serene—but even here, even in marriage, she longed to win against him.
Caden tilted his head, studying her. "You say that as if I'm the only one competing. As if you're untouched by the thrill of victory." His fingers tapped against the table, restless. His teeth brushed his lower lip while his eyes lingered on her face, watching every flicker of expression. One hand stayed buried in his pocket, a facade of ease he didn't feel.
Serena's innocent smile sharpened. "Isn't that the case? You came here to argue, Caden. That alone proves my point."
He gave a low laugh. "Is that so? Well… that might not be true tomorrow."
Rising smoothly, he plucked another glass of wine from a passing tray. With a single arched brow, he left her with that cryptic promise, vanishing into the crowd—while Serena sat still, baffled, her forced smile faltering for the first time.