The Engagement Gala wasn't a celebration; it was a coronation. Luther Tower's grand ballroom had been transformed into a cathedral of excess, white orchids dripping from the ceilings, rivers of vintage champagne, and a guest list that comprised the most dangerous and powerful figures in Lucentia.
For Eliana, it was a walk through a minefield.
She stood before the full-length mirror in Ethan's master suite, her breath hitching as the stylists finished their work. She was draped in a gown of liquid gold that seemed to cling to her skin like a second coat of armor. It was daring, elegant, and expensive enough to buy her father's house twice over. But all she could see was the silver tracker shimmering on her wrist, disguised by a stack of diamond bangles.
The door opened, and Ethan walked in. He was in a tuxedo so sharp it looked like it could cut glass. He stopped, his gaze raking over her with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.
"You look... sufficient," he said, his voice dropping an octave.
"Sufficient?" Eliana turned, her eyes flashing. "I look like a prize heifer at a county fair, Ethan. Let's not pretend this is about anything else."
Ethan stepped closer, his scent of sandalwood and cold power filling her lungs. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her throat before settling on the diamond necklace. "Tonight, you are the face of the Luther Group. If you falter, the Greeks see a weakness. If you shine, they see a fortress. Do not falter."
He offered his arm. It wasn't an invitation; it was a command.
The ballroom fell into a hushed, reverent silence as they descended the grand staircase. The "Mafia King" and his "Lawyer Queen." To the public, it was the romance of the century. To the people in the room who knew the truth, it was a terrifying display of Ethan's reach.
"Smile, Eliana," Ethan murmured through a fixed grin as they reached the floor. "The cameras are looking for a crack."
"I'm a lawyer, Ethan. I'm used to faking it in front of a judge," she whispered back.
They were making their rounds when the crowd parted like the Red Sea. A woman in a dress the color of fresh blood sauntered toward them. She was stunning in a way that felt predatory, dark hair, eyes like obsidian, and a smile that didn't reach her face.
Isabella.
"Ethan, darling," Isabella purred, ignoring Eliana entirely as she stepped into Ethan's personal space. She reached out and straightened his tie, her movements slow and intimate. "The tower looks beautiful. Almost as beautiful as it did when we were... celebrating your last victory."
Eliana felt a sharp, unexpected sting of jealousy that she immediately tried to crush. She didn't want this man. She shouldn't care who he had celebrated with.
"Isabella," Ethan said, his voice becoming that "extra cold" monotone. He didn't pull away from her touch, but he didn't lean in. "I didn't think you'd make the trip from the North District."
"I wouldn't miss the social execution of the year," Isabella said, finally turning her gaze to Eliana. She looked her up and down as if she were inspecting a smudge on a window. "So, this is the little advocate? She's a bit... wholesome for your taste, isn't she, Ethan? I remember you used to prefer women who knew how to handle a weapon, not just a briefcase."
"Eliana is my fiancée," Ethan said, his grip on Eliana's waist tightening. "Her tastes are my concern, not yours."
Isabella laughed, a low, melodic sound. "Of course. But let's be honest, how long can a bird live in a cage before it stops singing? Or before the King grows bored and finds a new pet?"
She leaned in closer to Eliana, her voice a sharp whisper. "Enjoy the gold while it lasts, honey. I've seen Ethan discard things far more valuable than you."
The gala continued, but Isabella was a constant shadow. Every time Ethan stepped away to talk business with a senator or a captain, Isabella was there, whispering to the other guests, casting disparaging glances at Eliana.
The tension peaked during the toast. Ethan stood on the dais, a crystal glass in his hand, ready to announce the wedding date.
"To the future of Lucentia," Ethan began. "And to the woman who will stand by my side as we"
"Wait!" Isabella's voice rang out from the front of the crowd. She stepped forward, holding her phone up. "Before we toast to 'love,' shouldn't we toast to the truth?"
The room went silent. Eliana's heart hammered against her ribs.
"I just received an interesting tip," Isabella said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "It seems our lovely bride-to-be was seen in the Level 4 parking garage last night... in the arms of another man. A certain lawyer named Luke Vance?"
A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom. The reporters in the back began scribbling furiously.
Eliana felt the world spinning. Isabella had access to the security footage, or a leaked version of it. She was twisting the escape attempt into an affair to destroy Eliana's reputation and, by extension, Ethan's "Clean" image.
Ethan's face went from cold to lethal. He looked down at Eliana, his eyes burning with a dark fire. The public humiliation was the one thing he couldn't allow.
"Is it true, Eliana?" Isabella pushed, stepping closer to the stage. "Did the King's prize try to run back to her little boyfriend?"
Eliana looked at the sea of faces, the judgment, the mockery, the hunger for a scandal. She looked at Ethan. She saw the rage in him, but she also saw something else, a test. He was waiting to see if she would break.
She took a step forward, her chin lifted high.
"Luke Vance is my colleague," Eliana said, her voice clear and resonant, echoing through the ballroom. "He was at the garage to deliver files for the Greek litigation. If you had the full footage, Isabella, you'd see that my 'fiancé' was right there with us, overseeing the handoff."
She turned to the crowd, a brilliant, fake smile on her lips. "Ethan is very protective of his business... and his wife. If there's a scandal here, it's that Isabella is so desperate for attention she's hallucinating romances in parking lots."
A few people chuckled. The tension broke. Ethan stepped down from the dais, walked to Eliana, and pulled her into a deep, possessive kiss. It wasn't romantic, it was a claim. It was a message to Isabella and the world: She is mine, and I will burn anyone who touches her.
As they pulled apart, Ethan whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "Well played, Eliana. But don't think for a second that I've forgotten that you actually were running to him."
He turned back to the crowd, his arm anchored around her. "The wedding is in two weeks. Anyone who has a problem with that can speak to Silas. Individually."
The gala ended an hour later. As the guests filtered out, Ethan led Eliana back toward the elevators.
"You handled Isabella better than I expected," Ethan said, his voice flat.
"I did what I had to do to survive the night," Eliana replied, her legs finally starting to shake. "But don't expect me to keep lying for you, Ethan. The truth always comes out."
"In this city, the truth is whatever I say it is," he countered.
As they stepped into the elevator, Silas stepped in behind them, holding a tablet. His face was grim.
"Boss, we have a problem. Luke Vance... he didn't go home after the garage incident. He went to the docks. He's been seen talking to the Greeks."
Eliana's heart stopped. "No. Luke would never work for them. He hates them as much as you do!"
"Desperate men do desperate things, Eliana," Ethan said, his eyes turning extra cold. "If your friend thinks he can use my enemies to get to you, he's about to find out how short his life expectancy really is."
He turned to Silas. "Find him. If he's with the Greeks, bring me his head. If he's not... bring him to the basement. I think it's time Mr. Vance and I had a real conversation."
Eliana looked at the silver tracker on her wrist. She was safe in the tower, but the world outside was burning, and the man she loved was about to become the fuel.