The sapphire necklace shimmered like starlight against Arabella's skin.
Simple, elegant, but undeniably powerful — just like she was becoming.
As the chauffeur pulled up to the towering luxury hotel, Arabella took one last look at herself in the mirror. Midnight gown, classic updo, lips painted a sharp berry red.
Not a doll. A weapon.
---
The investor dinner was glittering.
Cassian stood near the center, all black suit and silver cufflinks, cool as always — until he saw her.
For a moment, the mask dropped.
Just a second.
Just enough.
---
Lena, of course, was already there. Champagne in hand, attitude sharper than her heels.
"Trying hard, aren't you?" she whispered, stepping beside Arabella at the champagne table.
Arabella smiled. "Not really. This is just... who I am."
Lena sipped her drink. "You know he was engaged before, right?"
Arabella froze. Her hand tightened on the glass.
"Oh," Lena continued, smug, "Didn't he tell you? It was serious. Everyone thought she'd be the one. Until she disappeared."
"Why?"
"Some say she couldn't handle the pressure. Others say... she found out something she wasn't supposed to."
Lena leaned closer.
"You think you know him. But you don't."
Then she walked off, hips swaying like a villain in a perfume ad.
---
Arabella's mind swirled.
Cassian was too guarded, too cold — like he'd built a fortress around a wound no one was allowed to touch.
But then why her?
Why the necklace?
Why the look in his eyes?
---
"Dance with me."
Cassian's voice, low behind her.
She turned. He was offering his hand.
"No speeches," he said. "No show. Just… a dance."
Arabella hesitated.
Then placed her hand in his.
---
The music was soft, old-fashioned, like something from a royal ballroom.
They moved in sync — smooth, practiced, almost instinctive. Like they had done this before in another life.
His hand rested at her waist.
Her fingers curled lightly around his shoulder.
Close. But not close enough.
"You look…" he started, but didn't finish.
"I know," she said with a tiny smile.
He chuckled.
Then his expression turned serious. "Don't listen to Lena."
"She told me about your ex."
His jaw tensed.
"She said she disappeared."
He didn't answer.
Instead, he spun her gently — and as she came back into his arms, he whispered:
"She left… because I couldn't give her what she wanted. I thought I could."
Arabella looked up at him. "And me?"
"You didn't ask for anything. You just… showed up. Like a storm. No rules. No expectations."
"Do you regret it?" she asked, heart beating too loud in her chest.
"No."
Then his voice dropped — soft, almost broken:
"I regret not kissing you the night we got married."
---
Arabella's breath caught.
Everything inside her trembled.
But she said nothing.
Because right then, in that moment, surrounded by flashing lights and billion-dollar contracts, all that mattered was his hand in hers and the look in his eyes that said —
This wasn't pretend anymore.
---
But across the room…
A camera clicked.
Someone had captured the moment.
Someone who wanted her out of the picture.
Someone who had just sent the image to someone much, much worse.
---