"You shouldn't be here."
Aria's voice was low, but her chest was beating like a drum. She tried to sound calm, but her heart was restless. Across from her, Lorenzo leaned on the balcony railing, slowly exhaling smoke into the cold night air. The glow of the cigarette burned faintly like a secret flame between them.
"I go where I want," he replied lazily, his eyes never leaving hers. "The real question is, why are you here, Mrs. Draven? Running away from your own party?"
Aria's jaw tightened at the sound of her husband's name on his lips. Mrs. Draven. It felt like a chain around her throat, like she was property, not a person.
"Careful," she said sharply. "People might think you care."
Lorenzo chuckled, low and deep. "Maybe I do."
The balcony door suddenly slammed open behind them.
"Aria."
Sebastian's voice cut the night air like a blade. He stepped out, his polished mask of calm still on his face, but his eyes betrayed the fury boiling underneath. He always looked perfect, always in control, but Aria knew those eyes. They were burning.
Lorenzo didn't move. He didn't even flinch. He simply leaned back, taking another drag of smoke, the gray curls circling him like armor.
Sebastian's gaze slid toward him like a hawk spotting prey. "This is private."
"Funny," Lorenzo said, his voice smooth but mocking. "Looked pretty public from where I stood. Half the ballroom saw your little… mistake." He blew the last word out with the smoke, as if it was an insult. "Not a good look for a man who prides himself on control."
Sebastian's jaw tightened, his perfect teeth grinding. "Leave."
"I was just leaving," Lorenzo said casually. He straightened a little, but his dark eyes stayed on Aria. "But now… I think I'll stay a while."
Aria's pulse quickened. She felt trapped between fire and fire.
"Out," Sebastian barked, his voice sharp, used to being obeyed.
But before she could even think about it, the word escaped her lips. "No."
The sound hung in the air like thunder. Both men froze.
Aria herself was shocked she had said it, but her body refused to take it back. Her fists trembled at her sides. For the first time in a long time, she felt something powerful rise in her chest.
"No," she repeated, this time steady. "He stays."
Sebastian's mask cracked. He turned on her with eyes full of disbelief and anger. "Do you know what you're saying?"
"Yes," she whispered, her throat aching but her words strong. "For once, I do."
The silence that followed was heavy, dangerous. It was like standing in the middle of a storm about to break.
Lorenzo's eyes sharpened, as if he had been waiting for this moment. Sebastian's face twisted with fury, though he fought to hold on to his perfect image.
"You're embarrassing yourself," Sebastian hissed, his voice low and poisonous.
"No." Aria's voice rose, louder now, stronger. "You embarrassed me. Out there. With her."
She didn't need to say Isabelle's name. Her presence still haunted the room, the red dress burned into Aria's memory. Both men knew exactly who she meant.
Sebastian's patience snapped. His hand shot forward, grabbing her wrist roughly. His fingers were iron, cold and unforgiving. "Enough."
Pain seared through her wrist, but she lifted her chin. "Let go."
"Don't."
Lorenzo's voice was no longer lazy. It was sharp, like steel. Dangerous.
Sebastian's head whipped toward him. "This is my wife."
"And that…." Lorenzo flicked the cigarette away, the ember sparking against the marble floor as his eyes turned storm-dark, "isn't how you touch her."
The tension exploded.
Sebastian lunged forward, rage breaking through his polished mask. But Lorenzo was faster. His hand shot out, grabbing Sebastian's arm, twisting it, and shoving him hard against the railing. The sound of the impact rang through the night.
For once, Sebastian looked powerless. Struggling. Caged.
Aria's breath caught in her throat. She had never seen him like this. Her husband, the man who controlled everything, who controlled her, was suddenly pinned. His mask ripped away, leaving only raw fury.
"Careful, Draven," Lorenzo murmured, his face inches from Sebastian's. His voice was calm but deadly. "Not everyone bows to you."
"Get—off—me—" Sebastian snarled, straining against the grip, but Lorenzo held firm, unshaken.
Aria moved quickly, panic rising inside her. She stepped between them, pushing at Lorenzo with both hands. "Stop it! Both of you!"
For a moment, it felt like they wouldn't listen. But then Lorenzo's hand released its iron hold, and Sebastian staggered back, straightening his jacket and tie with shaky pride. His fury wasn't gone, it was boiling under his skin, and Aria could feel it.
His voice dropped to a hiss, trembling with contained rage. "You've just made the worst mistake of your life, Aria."
Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear herself breathe. His words weren't empty. They were a promise. A threat she knew he would keep.
Sebastian threw one last venomous glare at Lorenzo before storming back inside, the glass doors rattling violently as they slammed shut behind him.
Silence fell again. Only Aria's shaky breaths and the faint sound of music from the ballroom filled the night air.
Lorenzo chuckled softly, breaking the tension. "You've got fire," he said, his tone low but almost admiring. "Didn't think you'd use it."
Aria swallowed, her throat dry, her pulse still racing. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "Don't mistake this for an invitation."
"Too late." His eyes lingered on her, unreadable yet piercing. "I think you just opened the door."
Her breath caught, and for a moment she couldn't move.
Inside, the orchestra swelled as if nothing had happened. The guests laughed, danced, and gossiped, blind to the war that had just begun outside.
But out here, on this cold balcony, with broken glass and sharp truths, everything had changed.