The gala was designed to impress people who were no longer easily impressed.
Gold-accented walls reflected warm light across polished marble floors. Waiters moved silently between clusters of executives, refilling glasses before anyone thought to ask. The music was slow and elegant, engineered to fade into the background while deals were made in murmurs.
Aria Voss stepped inside and immediately felt the shift.
This wasn't a celebration. It was reconnaissance.
She adjusted the cuff of her black satin blazer, posture straight, expression neutral. Years of experience had taught her how to enter rooms like this not as a guest, but as a presence. Heads turned. Conversations paused, then resumed at a lower volume.
Voss Dynamics always drew attention.
So did she.
Aria accepted a glass of champagne she had no intention of drinking and scanned the room. Board members. Investors. Competitors pretending not to be competitors. Everyone here wanted something.
Then she saw him.
Damien Cross stood near the far end of the ballroom, surrounded by a loose circle of admirers. He wasn't speaking loudly, wasn't demanding attention he never did. He simply stood there, relaxed, smiling at the right moments, listening just enough to make people feel important.
That had always been his most dangerous talent.
Aria felt her jaw tighten.
Damien Cross didn't attend events without purpose. He didn't show his face unless he planned to disrupt something. And judging by the way several investors subtly shifted toward him, she already knew what tonight's disruption was meant to be.
A test.
She moved deeper into the room, greeting people with polite efficiency. Compliments were exchanged. Futures were hinted at. Alliances brushed against one another like fingertips without committing.
And all the while, she felt Damien's gravity pulling closer.
"Aria."
His voice came from behind her smooth, familiar, unwelcome.
She turned slowly.
"Damien," she said coolly. "I was wondering how long you'd wait."
He smiled. "I didn't want to interrupt. You always did like to control the room first."
His suit was perfectly tailored, charcoal gray with subtle detailing. He looked effortless in the way only men who had never truly been told no could look.
"You look well," he continued. "Power suits you."
"So does persistence," Aria replied. "Though I'm not sure it's working for you."
A flicker of amusement crossed his eyes. "Still sharp. Good."
She lifted her glass slightly. "What do you want?"
He laughed quietly. "Straight to business. I forgot how refreshing that is."
They stepped aside as another group passed, the noise dimming just enough for privacy.
"I wanted to congratulate you," Damien said. "On Aldergrove."
Her stomach tightened.
"News travels fast," she said evenly.
"Only when people are curious," he replied. "And people are very curious about what your grandmother left behind."
"That's not your concern."
"Everything is my concern," Damien said calmly. "Especially when old families resurface."
Aria studied him carefully. The garden's presence lingered in her mind like a held breath. She wondered, not for the first time, what color the flowers would turn if he stood among them.
"Careful," she said. "You're drifting toward interest where none is welcome."
Damien leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice. "I'm drifting toward opportunity."
She met his gaze. "For you."
"For both of us," he corrected. "Markets are unstable. Investors are anxious. Companies that don't evolve get absorbed."
"And companies that overreach get exposed," Aria shot back.
His smile sharpened. "You always did enjoy risk."
"I enjoy control."
"Then you understand why I'm here," Damien said. "Voss Dynamics is strong but it's vulnerable. Internal fractures. Uncertain loyalty. Pressure from too many directions."
Her grip on the glass tightened. "You're making assumptions."
"I'm making observations," he said lightly. "Your executive team is… divided."
She stared at him. "If this is a threat"
"It's a courtesy," Damien interrupted gently. "I would hate to see your legacy damaged by people who don't share your vision."
Legacy.
The word hit harder than she expected.
"My grandmother's death doesn't make me careless," Aria said. "If you're circling, Damien, understand this: I will not be intimidated."
He straightened, hands clasped behind his back. "I wouldn't dream of it."
They stood in silence for a moment, the music swelling around them.
Then Damien spoke again, quieter now.
"Tell me something," he said. "Do you believe the truth always comes out?"
Aria didn't answer immediately.
She thought of the garden. The way it pulsed when she felt fear. The way it calmed when she spoke honestly.
"Yes," she said at last. "I do."
Damien smiled. "Interesting. I've always believed truth is… selective."
"That explains a lot."
His laughter was soft, almost genuine. "You haven't changed."
"Neither have you."
"Perhaps," he said. "But I've learned to play longer games."
He reached into his jacket pocket, withdrew a slim card, and held it between two fingers not offering it, just displaying it.
"Watch your board," he said casually. "Someone there has already made their choice."
Aria felt a chill slide down her spine.
"Is that supposed to scare me?"
"No," Damien replied. "It's supposed to prepare you."
He slipped the card back into his pocket and stepped away, already turning toward another group, another conversation.
Just like that, the moment ended.
But the damage didn't.
Aria stood still, pulse racing beneath her composed exterior. Around her, the gala continued laughter, clinking glasses, whispered deals. No one noticed the fracture that had just formed beneath her feet.
Her phone vibrated in her hand.
Unknown Number: Trust breaks quietly.
Her breath caught.
She typed back, Who is this?
No response.
Across the room, Damien Cross glanced briefly in her direction.
He didn't smile.
For the first time that night, Aria felt something dangerously close to uncertainty.
Not fear.
Awareness.
Damien had made his move not with force, not with spectacle, but with implication. With doubt.
And he was right about one thing.
If someone on her board was lying…
The truth would surface.
Soon.