The gala hummed with polite laughter, champagne glasses clinking, and the soft strains of a string quartet. Aria Vale moved through the crowd with flawless posture, every step calculated, every smile controlled. She wasn't here for admiration — she was here to reclaim what had been stolen.
Her gaze swept the room, noting potential allies and threats alike. But her attention always returned to one figure: Lucien Kane. He hadn't moved since their first meeting, his eyes following her with a mixture of disbelief and something else… something she once recognized as love.
"Mr. Kane," she said, offering her hand in professional courtesy as she approached him. "I've prepared some sketches for the launch."
He hesitated, then accepted the hand. The warmth of his grip brushed against her palm and sent a flash of memory she forced down immediately. She clenched her jaw, keeping her face serene. "You have… exquisite taste," he said quietly.
Those were the same words he had whispered years ago, on a balcony bathed in sunlight. A memory she buried deep now hovered at the edge of her mind. She pressed it down. Aria Vale had no room for nostalgia — only strategy.
From across the room, Vivienne Wynn observed, leaning lightly against a marble column. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Aria laugh at a client's joke, subtle amusement curling her lips. "Who is that?" she whispered to a socialite beside her.
"That's Aria Vale. Designer from Milan. New in the city, apparently," the woman replied.
Vivienne's lips pressed into a thin line. "New?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "She thinks she can step into my world… and not pay the price."
Aria, unaware of the exact words, felt the prickling awareness of eyes on her. Her lips curved into the faintest smile — a ghost of acknowledgment that the games had already begun.
Lucien excused himself from a group nearby, gesturing toward a quieter corner of the room. "Do you have a few minutes? I'd like to discuss your designs privately."
Aria inclined her head gracefully, following him through a maze of golden columns. Every step drew them further from the crowd, and the tension thickened. His gaze lingered on her face, searching, probing, and she met it with a cool indifference that belied the storm inside her.
"You're very talented, Aria," he said finally, gesturing toward the sketches. "But… there's something about you. Something familiar."
Aria froze for a heartbeat, then smiled, keeping her voice steady. "I'm glad my work speaks for itself."
His eyes darkened, conflicted. "It's more than that… I just—" He stopped abruptly, as if the words were dangerous.
She tilted her head, reading him like an open book. "Dangerous words are best left unsaid, Mr. Kane."
A flicker of frustration crossed his face, and she noted it carefully. He was intrigued, curious, unsettled — exactly where she wanted him.
Meanwhile, Vivienne stepped closer to a display, her presence casual but calculated. "I wonder what makes Aria Vale so confident… so certain she belongs in circles she doesn't even know."
Aria felt it again — a faint ripple of challenge. Her lips curved into the smallest, almost invisible smile. Let the games begin.
Lucien, unaware of Vivienne's motives, found himself stealing glances at Aria across the room. Every tilt of her head, every subtle laugh, stirred memories he thought were long dead. And Aria? She felt the same pull, the same ache — carefully locked behind steel. Tonight was only the beginning. Lucien Kane didn't know it yet, but he had just met the woman who would upend his carefully controlled life… the woman who was, in every sense, his wife — and yet not.