KISS'S POV
The gala was too bright.
Too loud.
Too… much.
Every smile felt rehearsed. Every compliment carried weight. And every glance thrown my way felt like it was measuring something—my worth, my place, my danger.
I needed air.
"I'll be right back," I murmured to Chris, forcing a smile.
He nodded immediately. "I'll be nearby."
I slipped away before I could change my mind, weaving through silk gowns and sharp suits until I reached the restroom hallway. The moment the door shut behind me, I exhaled shakily.
Get it together, Kiss.
I stepped up to the mirror, gripping the marble sink.
You belong here. You earned this. You are not invisible—but you are not owned.
I was reapplying lip gloss when the door swung open behind me.
Hard.
I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Ashley Barlow.
"You're bold," she said coldly.
I met her gaze through the mirror slowly.
"And you're lost," I replied calmly. "This is the ladies' room, not a stage."
She scoffed. "Don't play innocent with me. I've been watching you all night."
I turned fully now, crossing my arms. "Then you should've learned something by now."
Her eyes burned. "You think dressing like that gives you rights?"
"No," I said evenly. "It gives me confidence."
She stepped closer, voice dropping. "You're sleeping with Adrian, aren't you?"
The accusation hit—but I didn't flinch.
"That's a lie," I said. "And a desperate one."
Her lips curled. "You followed him to his company. Wormed your way into his office. And now you're parading around on another man's arm to make him jealous."
I laughed softly—once.
"You're projecting," I said. "Because if Adrian were truly yours, you wouldn't be threatened by me."
Her hand twitched.
"You're a nobody," she hissed. "A secretary who forgot her place."
I stepped closer now, my voice deadly calm.
"My place is wherever I stand. And if you try to accuse me of something I didn't do again, I won't stay quiet."
She stared at me, stunned by my composure.
"This won't end well for you," she spat. "Men like Adrian don't protect women like you forever."
I leaned in just enough for her to hear.
"Then you should ask yourself why he already has."
I brushed past her, heart pounding, but spine straight.
I didn't see the way her face twisted behind me.
---
When I stepped back into the ballroom, the noise crashed over me again—but something else stopped me cold.
A familiar presence.
Not Chris. Not Adrian.
Her.
The elderly woman stood near the refreshment table, elegant in a champagne-colored gown, silver hair styled perfectly.
My heart skipped.
No.
It couldn't be.
Her eyes met mine—and widened.
Then she smiled.
Warm. Kind. Recognizing.
She walked toward me slowly.
"Oh my goodness," she said softly. "It's you."
My breath caught. "Y–you…"
"The supermarket," she finished gently. "You helped me carry my groceries."
Shock rooted me to the spot.
"You're…" I swallowed. "You're Adrian's—"
"Grandmother," she said with a light laugh. "Yes."
The world tilted.
"I didn't know," I whispered. "I swear—"
She waved her hand dismissively. "Of course you didn't. That's why I liked you."
She studied me now—not critically, but thoughtfully.
"You clean up beautifully," she added. "But that kindness? That's rarer."
"I—thank you," I said, still reeling.
She leaned in conspiratorially. "That boy of mine rarely notices what truly matters."
Before I could respond, her gaze shifted past me.
To Adrian.
And the way he was staring at me like the room had ceased to exist.
Her smile turned knowing.
"Oh," she murmured. "So that's it."
My pulse thundered.
---
ADRIAN'S POV
I saw Ashley storm out of the restroom.
I knew.
Before I could stop it, anger curled in my chest.
But then I saw who stood beside Kiss.
My grandmother.
And the look on her face—
Stunned. Curious. Delighted.
I moved before I could think.
"Kiss," my grandmother said warmly. "I hope you'll come visit me sometime."
Kiss smiled politely, still processing the shock.
"I'd like that," she replied.
Good.
Very good.
Then I turned—and saw Chris watching us from across the room.
The casual stance. The confident smirk.
I walked straight to him.
"Stay away from her," I said quietly.
Chris raised a brow. "Is that concern—or jealousy?"
"She's mine," I said flatly.
His smile sharpened. "Funny. She came with me."
"She works for me," I countered.
"That's not ownership," he replied coolly.
I leaned closer, my voice ice.
"You know exactly what I mean."
For a split second, something dangerous flickered in his eyes.
Then he chuckled. "You're late, Adrian."
I didn't respond.
Because across the room, Kiss looked back at me.
And for the first time—
She wasn't afraid.
She was thinking.
And that terrified me more than any rival ever could.