The chandeliers in the luxury suites glittered like captured stardust across the ballroom's marble floors. Every inch of the estate had been transformed for the night. Live string musicians played something soft, and waiters in black carried champagne on silver trays. The scent of roses and vintage cologne lingered in the air like a memory too proud to leave. It was Aiden Calloway's night, a celebration of power, legacy, and the official unveiling of his most ambitious project to date.
But Aiden wasn't focused on the applause or the murmurs of admiration swirling around him. His eyes were locked on Lydia. Standing near a carved mahogany column in a backless navy gown that shaped her small waist and large curves. The dress was designed as if it were made for her. Her skin glowed under the low lights, her head tilted as she spoke with a few of her friends.
"She's got you hypnotized," a voice murmured beside him, drawing Aiden from his thoughts.
He turned to see Noah, his closest friend. Noah raised a brow and lifted his glass lazily toward Lydia's direction.
"I take it we're still pretending this isn't an obsession?"
Aiden smiled faintly, not denying it. "You don't get it, do you? She's… different."
"Different," Noah replied coolly, glancing towards Lydia. But his jaw clenched just slightly, a flicker of something dark in his eyes."
"I think she might be the one."
That made Noah laugh. Short and humorless. "You barely know her.
Aiden chuckled, brushing off the comment like it was nothing."I know enough. I have never felt like this before. Trust me."
Noah didn't respond right away. He just stared at Lydia, the edge of his expression turning cold. He knew her all right. He knew her too well. And he didn't trust her. Not for a second.
The ballroom swelled with applause as Aiden's dad took the stage, microphone in hand.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he boomed, "thank you for being here tonight. My son has something remarkable to share. He said as he turned to Aiden.
Aiden straightened his suit, stretched out his hand towards Lydia to hold on. With a quiet breath, she placed her palm into his and stepped forward to a round of applause.
Lydia's eyes searched for that one person in the ballroom, and there he was, standing beside the guests, dressed in a black suit, one hand cradling a glass of crystal clear champagne, untouched. His eyes, sharp as ever, scanned the room like they always did. Watching, always watching. But when her gaze finally met his, just for a second... He looked away. Not quickly. But deliberately, like she was something he couldn't bear to look at anymore, like she disgust him.
"To us," she said. Eyes locked on him." The man of the hour." And the guests followed, raising their glasses slightly.
"Cheers!" They echoed, laughter spilling like music.
"Cheers, to more success. Aiden leaned in and pressed a kiss gently on Lydia's forehead, and for a moment, the noise faded, and it was just the two of them. Aiden's kiss still lingered on her skin, light as a feather. Lydia smiled not for the show, but because there was something honest about the way he touched her. Aiden didn't kiss to possess; he kissed to offer. To reassure. To say, "You are safe with me."
She was loved. Safe. And cherished in a way most women only dreamed of. They didn't notice Noah watching from across the room, his expression unreadable. The clinking of glasses around them filled the ballroom again. But Lydia's chest felt heavy, her mind drifting somewhere. She turned, instinctively...like something had brushed against her thoughts.
And there he was.
Now sitting beside an empty round table. He wasn't watching her anymore. He was watching the drink in hand, the sharp cut of his jaw giving nothing away. But she knew him. The silence and stillness that only came when he was trying to bury something too deep in his chest.
Lydia looked away quickly, breath caught in her throat. Her heart was racing.
Aiden's fingers brushed hers. Soft and full of warmth. He didn't need to ask if she was happy. He saw it in her eyes, at least that is what he thought.
The party was winding down. Laughter had softened, the music was slower now, waiters collected half-empty glasses as guests made their goodbyes.
Lydia stood near the terrace, Aiden's jacket around her shoulders. He had gone to take a final call, promising to return and walk her upstairs. She waited, quietly.
Behind her, Noah passed by not stopping, not speaking.
Their eyes met for only a second.
No words. No expression.
Then he was gone.
Moments later, Aiden returned, his smile soft, his hand reaching for hers.
She let him take it.
And as the last light dimmed, and the music died away,
Lydia left the ballroom with the man who loved her, while her heart, quietly, stayed behind. She was hurt.