"Do we have to?" Aria asked, her eyes fixed on me with a blank expression, as I offered her my elbow. I raised an eyebrow, prompting her to reluctantly comply.
"Fine, I get it," she muttered, slipping her arm through mine. Her pink-glossed lips compressed into a thin line, a clear indication of her displeasure.
She pushed every button I had, argued with everything I said—and somehow, it made me want her more. There was fire in her. Untamed, relentless. I should've been angry. Instead, I was obsessed.
She could bite, claw—hell, she could set the whole place on fire—and I'd still want her. Maybe even more.
I was counting on her to behave tonight. As much as I craved her defiance, tonight wasn't the night for it. My patience was already stretched thin—one wrong move, one sharp word, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold myself back.
I gave her a choice. That was more than she deserved after everything. I wasn't asking for much—just silence, grace, and a smile. But one wrong move, one smart remark and she would learn what losing that choice feels like.
The sound of my car's engine faded into the distance as the valet drove it away. I turned my attention to the hotel entrance, where my bodyguards, Victor and Marco, stood. They were two of my most trusted employees from the warehouse, where they handled... delicate matters, like assholes who think they can take my money and get away with it.
They nodded curtly at me, their eyes scanning the surrounding area before returning to me. I nodded in response, and they pushed open the glass door, allowing us to pass through.
"This dress is itchy," Aria whispered under her breath, and I felt my frustration spike. No one, and I mean no one, could push my buttons like she did. Of course she'd complain. Five minutes in and she was already whining.
Why was she making a luxury gown sound like a torture device. God, she had no idea the kind of control I was exercising right now. Did she think this was easy for me? Putting up with her attitude, her resistance, her endless need to challenge me?
She wanted to test me. She always did. Poke the beast and see if it bites. One more word and she was going to see just how thin my patience was tonight.
I turned to face her, and just like that, my frustration dissolved. Even in discomfort—tugging at the fabric like it was strangling her—she looked breathtaking.
Part of me wanted to tell her we could change it. That she didn't have to wear anything she didn't like. But instead, "I don't care, endure it. I said no tantrums. You're not a child" what was wrong with me?
"I am enduring it, but—" Aria started but her words were cut off by the sudden commotion.
"Mr. Fisher!" a chorus of voices shouted, and a surge of displease washed over me instantly.
"Is it true you're getting married next month?"
"Where did you meet?"
"Is it true she's the daughter of your business partner, Mr. Andrew Quinn?"
The questions came rapid-fire, and just like that, I felt my anger rising. I had specifically instructed James to keep this event private, so why were these vultures swarming us?
The guards swiftly moved in, forming a barrier between us and the swarming paparazzi. The cameras flashed wildly, and Aria instinctively covered her eyes. I placed my hands on her small back, using gentle pressure to guide her away from the chaos.
I leaned in to whisper a threat to the nearest bodyguard,"Get them out of here, or else I'll snap and kill every one of them, including you." His eyes flickered with understanding, and he nodded swiftly, pushing them back with a firm hand.
Aria's face twisted in displeasure, clearly having overheard my threat. I ignored her reaction, offering my elbow once more. This time, she hesitated before speaking up. "I feel more comfortable without us touching,"
I shot her a warning look, my tone flat. "Don't. Piss. Me. Off." She let out a heavy sigh before finally relenting, slipping her arm into mine. "Behave, Ariana," I added as I led us into the grand room.
The grand room was alive with the hum of conversation and the soft strains of music. Formally dressed guests mingled and laughed together, their sparkling attire catching the light of the dazzling chandeliers. Waiters moved through the crowd, offering champagne and appetizers with practised ease.
I scanned the crowded room, familiar faces blending with unfamiliar ones. The scent of expensive colognes filled the air, mingling with the cacophony of conversations giving me a headache but I pushed through it, focusing on the purpose of the evening – raising money for the kids. The thought of Sara's smile was going to make every moment worth it.
"Smile," I instructed calmly. Aria scoffed, flashing a fake smile that looked more like a grimace. On any other day, I might've found it amusing—maybe even cracked a smile. But today had already gone to hell. If I'd known the gala was scheduled for tonight, I would've told James to cancel it altogether.
My eyes locked on John Malakai, the COO of a software company, who was approaching us fast with an awkward smile. "Mr. Fisher," John called, extending his hand.
James had briefed me on them, and my research had shown that his company had been around for two years, but only recently surged in success. If they were looking to partner up, I was prepared to shut them down. I didn't do business with companies that were still finding their footing. They were too much of a risk, like a ticking time bomb waiting to implode. One minute they're on top, the next they're bankrupt. I wasn't about to take that kind of risk.
Partnerships were like marriages in the corporate world. Entering one with a company still finding its footing is like marrying someone you just met at a party. I've built my company on calculated risks, not hopeful ventures. Until they could show stability, they weren't worth the investment.
I have seen too many companies burn bright and fade fast. I couldn't afford to be part of another cautionary tale. Without a proven track record, it was all speculation, and I didn't gamble with my business.
"John... a pleasure to see you," I shook his hand firmly, adding a smile that was more a display of professional courtesy than genuine warmth.
His gaze drifted to Aria, and I felt a slow, burning unease crawl up my spine. The way his grey eyes darkened with something unspoken—something vile—made my fists clench at my sides. If he kept looking at her like that, I might just forget civility altogether.
"And this must be your fiancée..." John's voice slowed as he reached for Aria's hand, his gaze lingering far too long on her face. My jaw tightened as he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers with a smugness that made my gut twist in irritation.
His lips on her hand… the way his eyes lingered on her, it almost made me want to strangle him right then and there. But no, I wouldn't do that. I should be patient. For her. For us. "I must say, you look ravishing tonight,"
Ravishing?
What was this, a bad Renaissance festival?
I barely held back a sneer. She wasn't some damsel to be talked down to, and certainly not by him. "Ravishing" my ass. She was more than that, but she didn't need him to remind her.
I shot Aria a glance, willing her not to encourage this guy's over-the-top behaviour but she only smiled. She actually smiled. I hated how easily she gave him that smile, as if I was invisible in that moment, watching as she gave him her attention without a second thought. She didn't need him fawning over her like that. She was mine. Why couldn't she see that?
I told myself it didn't matter, but my stomach twisted anyway. She shouldn't have been so eager to encourage it. She didn't understand how much it irritated me. She didn't get that I wanted to be the one to make her smile like that. No one else. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe I was being possessive. But she was mine, damn it. Her smile was mine to earn, not his.
"Thank you," she said, and only then did I notice—the smile she gave him was as fake as a plastic flower. From my angle, I could see it clearly, the way her lips curved but her eyes stayed cold. She could lie with her lips, but her eyes never cooperated. And right now, they were screaming disinterest. God, I loved that. It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen all night.
I didn't need her to say anything. That one forced smile told me everything I needed to know—he didn't stand a chance.
I couldn't have been more relieved. I couldn't have been more in love. If she smiled like that at me, I'd be crushed. But watching her fake it for him? That was art. The best part? He didn't even know he was being lied to. But I did. I always knew. One day, I'd earn her real smile—hell, I'd build a life around it. But tonight, I'd take this fake one and let it feed my obsession.
"Shane caught a big fish, a really good-looking one," John uttered with awkward humour. Was he trying to be funny? Because all he was doing was testing my last nerve.
I stared at him, my expression unchanging, as I waited for him to realize that his joke had fallen flat. Aria, too, remained stoic, her smile long gone. The silence that followed was unbearable, and I could feel my annoyance getting worse by the second.
Someone tell this man to get the fuck out of my sight. If he said one more word, I was going to do something very unprofessional and very satisfying. He was overstaying his welcome, and every second he stood there felt like a personal offense. I didn't invite him. I didn't want him here. And yet, here he was—like a cockroach in a five-star restaurant.
"I'm afraid I'll have to steal your future husband... for business dealings," John told, flashing that same awkward, crooked-toothed smile that made my stomach turn.
With his millions, he could have at least invested in some decent dental work. It was vexing that someone with his money couldn't be bothered to fix his teeth. It was a petty thing to focus on, but it fueled my growing dislike for John.
"We just got here—" I started to protest, but Aria cut me off.
"Take him!" Her brown eyes flashed with urgency. "If you must, please do," she added, the sweetness in her voice only heightening the challenge.
I shot her a warning glance, but she just smiled sweetly at me, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.
This little...
Fuck. I'm falling for her all over again.
I leaned in, my voice dropping to a low growl. "You stay right here and—" But before I could finish, she mouthed the words
"—don't piss me off" back at me, her eyes rolling in exasperation. "I got it," she whispered cynically.
I straightened up, my voice taking on a more audible tone. "I'll be back."
Aria's smile turned taunting "Take your time, in fact, you can always choose not to come back."
"I'm watching you," I warned, my eyes narrowing slightly. Only God knew how much I wanted to smile in that moment. She was so damn cute.
I turned my attention to John, my almost-smile faltering as I fell into step beside him. No… I needed to be next to her. Already, I was craving her scent, and I wasn't even ten feet away yet. This was insane. She was trouble, and I was already falling too deep into it. But damn if I wasn't enjoying the ride.
"Congratulations on your engagement, it's shocking news," John attempted to make small talk. I hated this dance, this pretence of friendly chatter before getting down to business.
I've heard it all before. Nothing new, nothing interesting. I didn't have time for this charade. I had more important matters to attend to. I could be anywhere else—with Ariana, doing anything else—with Ariana.
"I like my matters private," I replied, my tone curt and final. That's exactly what they were meant to be - private. Was I supposed to put it out there that I was seeing someone.
After that, John tried to make conversation, discussing potential business benefits—it was a waste. I didn't even know why I was entertaining this conversation.
It's not like I was fully paying attention. I was nodding along like I cared about anything John had to say. But my mind? My mind was consumed by her.
How the hell was I supposed to focus on business when she was standing there, glowing and, and just... existing?
I kept trying to redirect my thoughts, to focus on John and his damn partnership talk, but how was I supposed to focus on anything when every inch of her body screamed unattainable. Every little movement she made was like a slow burn. Every curve, every line was too much for me to process. And what frustrated me the most was how calm she looked, like she was unaware of the effect she was having on everyone around her. Especially me.
She had no idea how badly she was torturing me. Every word John said just became background noise, because all I could hear was the sound of my own pulse speeding up. She didn't even know how much she owned me in this moment.
Her eyes darted around the room, as if she was trying to find her footing in this sea of people. But she didn't need to search for anything, She didn't need to do anything to draw attention. She was like a goddess among mortals. No one here could even come close to holding a candle to her. How did she manage to make everything else seem so... irrelevant?
I hated myself for letting it distract me from everything else in the room. But hell, how could I not? She was everything, and I couldn't take my eyes off her.
She stood at a table, tilting her head back to sip her champagne, and for a moment, she looked completely out of place.
Out of place? Yeah, she was definitely out of place. But don't get me wrong. She wasn't out of place because she didn't fit in. No. She was out of place because she was too much. Too beautiful, too damn perfect for this room. She didn't belong here, she was like a masterpiece in the wrong gallery.
She made everything else look inferior—she was above this, above all of them. And damn, did I love that about her.
The crimson dress was so simple, yet so damn provocative. The hint of her cleavage—I wanted to pull her closer, bury my hands in that dress, feel every inch of her beneath my touch.
John's words about business trends and partnerships barely registered. Honestly, he could've been dropping dead mid-sentence, and I wouldn't have blinked. Because all I could see—all I could hear—was her. Business deals? Irrelevant. She was the deal I never wanted to lose.
My eyes lingered on her from the distance, taking in the full picture. The high ponytail, the way her lips curved—everything about her looked like she belonged on the cover of a magazine.
Her neck, so delicate and exposed, was just begging for my attention. God, I wanted to reach out and touch her.
The way the pendant sat there, like a subtle invitation, made me wonder what it would be like to run my fingers over her skin. It was a dangerous thought, but the longer I watched her, the harder it became to ignore. Would it be as soft as I imagined?
The way her fingers curled around the stem of that glass, The way the ring sparkled on her finger, as though reminding me she was taken—mine. But still, there was a distance between us. She wasn't mine in the way I wanted her to be. Not yet.
What the hell was I doing?
I shouldn't be taking pictures of her, especially not when she's unaware. But I couldn't help it. She looked perfect, and something inside me just snapped. I had to capture it. I had to freeze this moment where she was just… hers. Maybe I was losing my mind, but I couldn't stop. I needed that photo of her.
The picture didn't do her justice. Nothing could. But it was all I had, and in that moment, that felt like enough.
She was a masterpiece, and I couldn't help but document her like some kind of obsessive fool. I felt like I was hypnotized.
How lucky—no, cursed—was I to be so drawn to her?
She'd just made my birthday—the second worst day of my life—feel almost bearable. Almost.