...The music was soft, expensive, and boring....

Selene adjusted the strap of her silver gown and stared around the hall like she owned the place. She didn't- but she could pretend.

The party was thrown by Damien's father to celebrate his only son's return from overseas.

Selene wasn't exactly "invited." She didn't need to be.

When you're Selene Hart - CEO of a luxury fashion brand that half the elites wore - invitations usually found you.

She wasn't here for Damien, though.

She was here because she loved parties. The noise, the chaos, the glitter, the quiet envy hiding behind every fake smile - it was intoxicating.

"There you are!"

Selene turned just as Layla Rose, her best friend and partner-in-chaos, waved dramatically from across the room.

Layla - CEO of the most famous restaurant chain in the city, walking scandal magnet, and heartbreak survivor - looked stunning in red.

"Girl, I've been looking for you everywhere," Layla said, brushing her curls back. "You ditched me again!"

"I didn't ditch you," Selene said, smiling. "You were busy flirting with the bartender."

Layla gasped. "He was cute, and he gave me free champagne!"

"Unbelievable," Selene muttered, grabbing two glasses off a tray. "Here. Let's drink to your terrible decisions."

Layla clinked her glass against hers. "Cheers to that."

The night dragged on. Politicians, CEOs, and social climbers filled the room, trying too hard to act important.

^^^Selene didn't care. She just wanted to enjoy the night-until she saw someone enter.^^^

^^^Damien.^^^

He walked in like the air changed for him.

Tall, sharp suit, calm expression - the kind of man that didn't need to demand attention because the room gave it to him anyway.

"Finally," Layla whispered. "The man of the night shows up. Took him long enough."

Selene tried not to look impressed, but she failed miserably. She'd seen him once before - years ago, at a business event - and even then, he'd stood out.

But now? He looked different. Older. Colder.

"Are you actually staring?" Layla teased.

"Shut up."

Layla grinned. "Don't tell me you of all people has a crush."

"I don't," Selene lied, sipping her drink. "He's just... good-looking."

"Sure," Layla sang, "and I'm just tipsy."

Selene rolled her eyes, turning her attention away-just in time to catch another familiar face walk in.

Lucian Virel.

A man with the kind of reputation that made people lower their voices when they said his name.

Ruthless, calculating, and Damien's biggest rival in business.

Selene frowned. What was he doing here?

Lucian's gaze drifted across the crowd until it landed on Damien... then moved lazily toward her. Their eyes met-just for a second-and something sharp flickered in his expression.

Interest? Amusement?

She couldn't tell.

"Isn't that Lucian Virel?" Layla whispered, following her gaze. "God, he's dangerous-looking."

"Which is exactly why you should stay away," Selene said flatly.

Layla snorted. "Relax, mom."

Selene ignored her, pretending not to notice that Lucian was still watching. His smirk deepened before he turned away to greet someone else.

Damien, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there.

He sat down, nodded politely at a few people, and accepted a drink from a waiter with the expression of a man counting down minutes.

Selene found herself watching him again.

The way his jaw tightened every time someone approached. The way he loosened his tie slightly, like he couldn't breathe in the room he was born to dominate.

And maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was curiosity, but she found herself drifting closer - just to see.

Layla had already vanished, probably chasing another "hot guy" by the bar.

Selene stopped a few steps away from Damien's table, pretending to check her phone.

Then, his voice - low, tired, but annoyingly attractive - cut through the hum of chatter.

"Enjoying the party?"

She looked up. He was staring right at her.

Her throat went dry. "Trying to."

"Good luck with that," he said, half-smiling. "I've been trying since I walked in."

She smiled back, just slightly. "Then why not leave?"

"Can't. My father would have a heart attack."

Selene chuckled, glancing around. "You don't seem like someone who cares what people think."

"I don't," he said simply. "Except tonight."

Their eyes held for a moment too long.

Then someone called his name - a tall man in a grey suit approached, flashing a smile.

"Damien, it's been forever."

Lucian.

The air shifted immediately. Damien's expression hardened; Selene could almost feel the tension between them.

Lucian's gaze flicked to her and lingered for half a heartbeat before returning to Damien. "Didn't know you'd be back in town so soon."

"Didn't know you'd be invited," Damien replied smoothly.

"I wasn't," Lucian said with a smirk. "I just go where the fun is."

Selene suddenly felt like she was in the middle of something she didn't understand - and yet, Lucian's quick glance at her made her pulse jump.

She didn't like that.

Lucian finally excused himself, leaving a trail of tension behind him.

Selene exhaled. "So... that's your rival?"

Damien nodded. "Yeah. Stay away from him."

She tilted her head. "You don't strike me as the protective type."

"I'm not." He looked at her again, expression unreadable. "Just giving friendly advice."

Before she could reply, a waiter brushed past, bumping her slightly - her drink spilled a little on her wrist.

Damien reached for a napkin immediately, brushing her hand as he passed it to her. "Sorry about that."

She took it, their fingers brushing for a split second.

Something electric passed through her chest.

"Thanks," she said, forcing a small smile.

"Anytime."

And just like that, Damien stood, checking his watch. "I should go before I lose my mind here."

"Already?"

He smiled faintly. "Thirty minutes was the deal."

As he left, Selene watched him disappear through the crowd - unaware that Lucian, standing near the balcony, had seen every second of it.

He wasn't smiling anymore.

.

.

The party was thinning out.

Half the guests were drunk, the other half were pretending not to be.

Selene sat back at the bar beside Layla, swirling the last of her champagne. "You know," she said, "this place feels like a high-end zoo. Everyone's trying too hard to impress."

Layla giggled. "Maybe because they all know Damien's back. You saw the way half those girls were drooling when he walked in?"

Selene smirked. "Please. I was not drooling."

"You stared."

"Observing," she corrected.

"Uh-huh." Layla downed her drink. "If you're observing that hard, at least get his number."

Selene rolled her eyes. "He's Damien Cross, not some guy from Tinder."

Layla shrugged. "Rich, handsome, mysterious - you're basically describing your type."

"Wrong," Selene said with a grin. "My type doesn't come with emotional damage and generational wealth."

Layla laughed so loud the bartender shot her a look. "You're hopeless."

"Thanks."

They both chuckled, but Selene's mind wasn't really there.

She kept thinking about that brief conversation - the way Damien's voice sounded like calm before a storm, how he left right when it was getting interesting.

She sighed. "Anyway, where's your next victim?"

Layla perked up, eyes lighting on a tall guy across the room. "Right there. Black suit, stupidly handsome. Wish me luck."

Selene watched her friend strut away and shook her head. "She's going to embarrass herself again," she muttered, finishing her drink.

As she turned back toward the bar, she caught a familiar face at the far end of the room - Lucian Virel.

He stood near the balcony, glass of whiskey in hand, pretending not to look her way.

But he was. Every few seconds, his gaze flicked toward her - cold, curious, calculating.

Selene didn't flinch. Instead, she raised her chin slightly, meeting his eyes head-on.

Lucian's lips twitched - not quite a smile, more like amusement. Then he looked away.

She hated the way that tiny exchange made her pulse quicken.

Turning around, she ordered another drink. She wasn't leaving yet - not with him watching like that.

/ / /

Across the room, Lucian leaned against the railing, pretending to scroll through his phone. But his thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

Selene Hart.

He'd seen her name in a few fashion magazines, heard of her brand, even noticed her once at a corporate gala - but she'd never stood out like this before.

There was something annoyingly magnetic about her.

The kind of woman who didn't try to impress anyone, yet somehow did.

He told himself it was curiosity, nothing more.

Just curiosity.

Then he saw Damien's car pull away through the glass doors - and for some reason, that made his jaw tighten.

/ / /

"Enjoying yourself?"

Lucian looked up - Sergio Vance, Damien's old acquaintance, had appeared beside him.

Lucian gave a low hum. "Define enjoying."

Sergio followed his gaze and smirked. "Ah. That kind of enjoying."

Lucian shot him a warning look.

"Relax," Sergio said, raising his hands. "You're staring like she owes you money."

"She doesn't," Lucian muttered, sipping his drink. "Just... interesting face."

"Sure. You only use that tone when you're lying."

Lucian ignored him.

But Sergio didn't stop. "You thinking of making a move?"

"No."

"Then why are you still here?"

Lucian didn't answer. He just watched Selene laugh at something the bartender said, her hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

He could leave. He should leave.

But instead, he ordered another drink.

/ / /

Layla eventually returned, tipsy and smiling like she'd just won the lottery. "He's Italian," she whispered dramatically. "And he asked for my number."

Selene groaned. "Of course he did."

Layla sat down beside her. "You should have fun too, you know? You've been sitting here looking like a bored goddess."

"I'm fine."

"Fine," Layla said, narrowing her eyes. "Or thinking about Damien fine?"

Selene smirked. "You're imagining things."

"Uh-huh." Layla wobbled to her feet. "I'm getting another drink. Try not to fall in love while I'm gone."

Selene laughed. "No promises."

She watched her friend disappear into the crowd again. The air felt heavier suddenly - or maybe that was just her imagination.

When she turned around, Lucian was gone.

She frowned, scanning the hall, but he'd vanished completely. Good, she told herself. He was unsettling.

She grabbed her purse and started heading for the exit.

The night air outside was cool, sharp against her skin. She took a deep breath and smiled faintly to herself - at least she survived the evening.

Then, just as she reached her car, a voice came from behind her.

"Leaving so soon?"

She froze. That voice - low, smooth, unmistakably smug.

Lucian.

Turning slowly, she found him standing a few feet away, jacket unbuttoned, hands in his pockets. The streetlight caught the edge of his smirk.

"Do you always follow women out of parties?" she asked flatly.

"Only the interesting ones," he said.

"I'm not interested."

"Didn't say you were."

She crossed her arms. "What do you want?"

Lucian tilted his head slightly, eyes glinting. "Nothing. Just making conversation."

"Well, conversation's over." She stepped closer, chin raised. "Next time, try less stalking."

His smile widened - sharp, dangerous. "Feisty. No wonder Cross looked so taken."

Her expression flickered. "Excuse me?"

He stepped closer, just enough to make her breath hitch. "You really think he wasn't watching you too?"

For a moment, silence. Just the faint sound of city traffic.

Then Selene scoffed, turning away. "You're insane."

"Maybe," Lucian murmured, voice low. "But I'm right."

She opened her car door without looking back. "You're wasting your time, Mr. Virel."

Lucian smirked. "We'll see about that."

As the car drove off, he pulled out his phone.

"Do a background check," he said coldly. "Selene Hart. I want everything."

He ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

For a second, he stared at the fading taillights - that same stubborn confidence replaying in his mind.

He told himself it was strategy. Curiosity.

But deep down, he already knew better.

.

.

.