The grand ballroom of the upcoming City Luxe Gala was buzzing with activity. Polished marble floors reflected chandeliers that glittered like captured stars. Event planners scurried back and forth, checking table arrangements, lighting, and menus. Every detail mattered. Every detail was a chance for victory—or defeat.
Alina Ross stood near the entrance of the hall, clipboard in hand, scanning the chaos with an eagle eye. Aurora Hotels had been chosen to host the gala, a high-profile luxury event that could make or break reputations in the city's hospitality scene. Her assistant, Sophie Bell, hovered close, organizing last-minute confirmations with quiet efficiency.
"Alina, the floral arrangements are slightly behind schedule," Sophie murmured. "Do you want me to handle it?"
Alina glanced at her assistant, then back at the gala floor. A fleeting frustration crossed her face—not at Sophie, but at the thought of Adrian Vale.
Because, as always, he was already here.
Adrian stood near the opposite end of the room, perfectly still, hands folded behind his back, surveying the preparations for Vale Hospitality's rival gala next week. Or at least, that was what everyone thought. No one realized he'd "popped in" early, ostensibly for networking, but in reality, to watch Aurora Hotels scramble. His expression was calm, almost cold, yet there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
Marcus Lane, his ever-watchful assistant, noticed Adrian's subtle amusement. "You're here earlier than planned," he said dryly.
"Observing," Adrian replied simply. His gaze drifted toward the other side of the room. And there she was.
Alina Ross. Every inch as brilliant, confident, and infuriating as the stories claimed. Her eyes scanned the room, her brow furrowed slightly as she juggled multiple tasks. Adrian noted the tiny flicker of stress around her eyes, the way her jaw tightened when a staff member asked a question she didn't have time for.
A slight smile curved his lips. She's always so composed… until I'm around.
And then she noticed him.
Her chest tightened. Adrian Vale was standing there, unflinching, sharp-suited, almost unnervingly calm. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and something flickered—something she couldn't name. Recognition? Challenge? Or that irritating awareness that, no matter how perfectly she handled everyone else, she could never outmaneuver him.
Alina forced herself to step forward, clipboard held with professional poise. "Mr. Vale," she said smoothly. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Adrian tilted his head slightly, studying her with those cool, calculating eyes. "I didn't expect to not see you," he replied evenly, his tone carrying the faintest edge of amusement.
Alina felt her chest flutter slightly. Was it… nerves? Or that annoying, undeniable spark he always seemed to provoke? She shook her head subtly and squared her shoulders. "The gala is going perfectly, of course," she said, carefully neutral. "Aurora Hotels always delivers."
A small, almost imperceptible smirk appeared on Adrian's face. "Of course," he echoed. "It's… impressive how you manage it all. I wonder, though, if you'll still manage to impress me when the event next week—Vale Hospitality has a little surprise planned."
The words were perfectly measured. Cold, slightly petty, and—unbeknownst to Alina—flirtatious in that teasing, irritating way that left her stomach twisting. She opened her mouth to retort but then thought better of it. Every argument she tried against Adrian ended the same way: carefully deflected, subtly corrected, leaving her frustrated and… strangely aware of him.
Sophie, hovering nearby, noticed the slight redness creeping across Alina's cheeks. "Focus," Sophie whispered. "It's not him you need to impress right now."
Alina's lips pressed into a thin line. Focus. Always focus. But the moment Adrian's eyes flicked toward her again, so calm, so… infuriatingly untouchable, she felt it—a tiny flutter, a pulse of heat she could not explain.
Marcus, watching his boss from across the room, chuckled softly. "He's enjoying this," he said to no one in particular.
Adrian's gaze lingered just a moment longer before he stepped back, letting the professional mask fall fully into place. He didn't speak again, but that quiet smirk remained, leaving Alina unsettled in ways she refused to admit, even to herself.
The gala continued around them, glittering and busy, but a subtle battle had already begun—one of words, wills, and quiet power plays.
And neither Adrian nor Alina had any idea that this was only the very beginning.