The night of the annual Grant Enterprises Charity Gala crept up a lot sooner than Lia had expected. She had only ever intended to drop off the final data reports, not attend the actual event. But when the HR coordinator had rammed a black envelope into her hands that morning, announcing, "CEO's orders," she didn't have much of a choice.
Now she stood in the doorway of the opulent ballroom, entranced and terrified.
Crystal chandeliers, velvet drapes, cameras flashing like lightning.
This wasn't just a gala; it was a battlefield of wealth, power, and influence.
Lia swallowed hard.
She did not belong here.
Not amidst these million-dollar smiles and razor-sharp whispers.
But upon entering, the eyes weren't on her; they were on the man that came in behind her.
Leo Grant.
Tall, deadly in a black suit, moving with the silent command of a man who owned a room and everyone in it.
His gaze swept the ballroom… then landed on her.
Something flickered in his eyes—warmth? Familiarity? before his face snapped back into its usual icy mask. He walked toward her with purposeful, controlled strides.
"You came," Leo said, his voice low, almost relieved.
"You told me to," Lia returned, attempting steadiness.
Before he could respond, a camera crew appeared.
"Mr. Grant! A photo, please!"
Leo nodded once, then reached out without warning and put a hand on Lia's waist.
Her breath caught.
The photographers snapped instantly, flashes exploding like fireworks.
"Smile," Leo said quietly.
Lia made one, under the most immediate compulsion, her heart racing.
But then—
Gasps rippled across the ballroom.
On the enormous projection screen behind the stage, a set of financial slides materialized. Unauthorized. Glitching. scrambled.
Then a single sentence flashed across the screen:
"GRANT ENTERPRISES FUNDS MISUSED—INTERNAL LEAK SUSPECTED."
Chaos ensued.
Guests whispered. Investors frowned. Cameras abruptly turned toward Leo.
Lia's pulse hammered.
She knew those files.
Of the very ones she studied.
Those who have been corrupted.
This was no accident.
His jaw clenched, his eyes clouding into a storm.
"Somebody's trying to sabotage me," he said in a hushed tone. Then his hand found Lia's again—firm, grounding. "Stay close. It's just become dangerous." And for the first time tonight, Lia grasped: This wasn't a glamorous gala. It was a trap.