The chandeliers of the Royal Aviance Hotel glittered like stars trapped in crystal. Luxurious gowns swept across marble floors, and the richest families of Arrendellia gathered for the most anticipated event of the year:
The engagement ceremony of Damian Steele.
The CEO of Steelenex Corporation.
The man whose name controlled the nation.
The most feared, most powerful, and most mysterious man in Arrendellia.
He stood tall at the center of the ballroom, dressed in a tailored black suit, a sleek half-mask covering his face. No one had ever seen what lay beneath it. Not even the elite families who claimed to be "close" to him.
Rumors had spread for years:
"Is he scarred?"
"No, he's too handsome—women might riot if they saw him."
"Maybe he hides something monstrous."
"He might be disfigured."
"He might be perfect."
And because of the mystery, every single elite woman in Arrendellia wanted to become Mrs. Steele.
It was the highest status a woman could ever achieve.
But tonight, the podium beside him was empty.
His bride hadn't arrived.
Whispers filled the air like poisonous smoke.
"She ran away?"
"Is she insane?"
"This will ruin the stock market—"
"He must be furious."
"The Invisible CEO… humiliated?"
A server rushed toward Damian and handed him a cream envelope with shaking hands.
Damian opened it.
I'm leaving, Damian.
I want freedom.
Don't look for me.
—Lena
His fiancée had abandoned him.
At his own engagement ceremony.
In front of the entire nation's elite.
The tension in the room thickened.
Journalists waited like vultures.
Socialites smirked behind their champagne glasses, already imagining themselves as his replacement bride.
Damian's expression didn't change.
But the air around him turned dangerously cold.
He moved to leave—
—and collided with someone.
A soft gasp.
A metal tray clattering.
Water splashing onto his suit.
A young woman stumbled backward, nearly falling.
"I—I'm so sorry!" she cried, bowing quickly. "Someone pushed me—I didn't see you—I swear I didn't mean to—please don't fire me!"
She was wearing a simple pale-blue dress too plain for this event.
Her shoes were cheap.
Her makeup barely there.
Her eyes warm with genuine panic.
A worker.
Clearly from a poor background.
Damian stared at her.
She didn't look at him with fear.
Or admiration.
Or calculation.
She didn't even recognize him.
"What is your name?" he asked quietly.
"A-Ariana… Ariana Blake," she whispered.
Guests gasped.
A woman in a gold gown hissed,
"She doesn't even know who Mr. Steele is?"
"Impossible!" another snapped.
"She must be pretending!"
"Every woman here would die to marry him!"
But Ariana blinked in confusion.
"I'm sorry," she said honestly. "I don't know any important people here. I came to work. That's all."
The ballroom erupted in shocked whispers.
"She doesn't know the Invisible CEO?!"
"She doesn't know Steelenex?"
"Has she been living under a rock?"
"Or under poverty," someone sneered.
For a moment, Damian forgot the scandal, the crowd, his humiliation.
She truly didn't know him.
No rumors.
No fear.
No desire to use him.
Just simplicity.
Just sincerity.
Just Ariana.
Before she could apologize again, Damian reached out—
took her wrist—
pulled her firmly to his side—
And declared in a calm, commanding voice that silenced the entire ballroom:
"This is my fiancée."
Ariana froze.
"What?!" she squeaked.
The ballroom exploded.
"Her?!"
"A servant?!"
"He chose that girl?"
"This must be a joke—"
"Damian Steele lost his mind!"
Damian leaned down, his voice low and steady beside her ear.
"It's a contract," he murmured.
"Help me tonight. Say yes."
Her heart pounded.
This masked, terrifying man…
needed her?
She swallowed and whispered, "…Okay."
He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close in a way that looked intimate—
almost possessive.
Reporters screamed questions.
Cameras flashed wildly.
Elite women glared daggers at Ariana, their dreams shattering instantly.
Damian spoke with unshakable authority:
"The engagement continues.
The bride has simply changed."
Ariana nearly fainted.
What have I just agreed to…?
Later That Night
A black limousine waited outside.
Damian helped Ariana in without saying a word.
"Sir, about what happened—" she began nervously.
"You're my wife now," Damian interrupted quietly.
"By contract. You'll live with me."
Ariana's eyes widened.
"L-Live with you? But I'm not taking your money, or your cars, or—"
"I didn't ask you to," his voice deepened.
"You can refuse everything you want…
But you will stay under my roof."
Ariana stared at him.
She didn't know him.
Didn't understand this world.
Didn't even know why he needed her.
But something about him…
felt lonelier than she expected.
At the Mansion
When they arrived at his mansion—more like a palace—Ariana froze.
"This is too much. I can't live here."
Damian turned to her slowly.
"You are my wife," he said softly.
"You will live here. Even if you refuse my wealth."
She swallowed hard and stepped inside.
The mansion was cold, silent, and breathtakingly huge.
Ariana felt like a tiny speck in a world not meant for her.
She chose a simple guest room at the far end of the hallway.
Damian passed by later, watching her softly close her door—
so small and humble in his massive home.
For years, he lived behind a mask,
behind power,
behind fear.
But tonight, for the first time…
someone entered his world
who saw him as a man,
not a monster or a mystery.
And Damian Steele knew:
Ariana Blake was going to change everything.