In the Valmont Corp. conference room.
The screen displayed the project timeline.
Astrid pointed at a column of figures.
—If we move up the steel purchase by two weeks, we can avoid the price increase.
Adrian nodded.
—Makes sense.
Silence.
Astrid waited.
Nothing.
She blinked.
Was that it?
After kissing her on a balcony as if the world were about to end...
Was his grand response really just "makes sense"?
Adrian kept his eyes fixed on the screen.
Perfect.
Project.
Only the project.
If they talk about the project, they don't talk about the kiss.
An excellent strategy.
Probably the best decision he had made in weeks.
—I've also changed the glass supplier.
—Good decision.
Astrid slowly lowered her gaze.
Good decision.
Of course.
Naturally.
Because apparently Adrian Valmont had more emotions when approving an invoice than when she was standing inches away from him.
—The cash flow should stabilize by September.
—Yes.
Silence.
Astrid closed her eyes for a moment.
Yes?
Was that all?
Meanwhile, Adrian was fighting an internal battle.
Say something else.
Anything.
"Excellent work."
"I didn't expect that solution."
"The project has potential."
Something.
But no.
His brain had decided that "yes" was enough.
A victory.
A perfectly normal conversation.
Astrid slid the laptop toward him.
Their hands brushed.
Both pulled their fingers away at the same time.
Too quickly.
Astrid noticed.
So that's it.
He's uncomfortable.
Adrian felt like he had just made a strategic mistake.
Idiot.
Why did you pull your hand away like you touched fire?
Now she'll think you're uncomfortable.
Because you are.
But she cannot know that.
They both looked up.
Their eyes met.
One second.
Two.
They immediately looked back at the screen.
—Are you going to say something? —Astrid asked.
Adrian opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Say something.
Anything.
—The report is well structured.
Astrid stared at him.
—That wasn't what I was asking.
Silence.
Adrian looked back at the screen.
—I know.
And, for some reason, that made it worse.
Because they both understood the same thing.
They were pretending nothing had happened.
And both of them were terrible at pretending.
Adrian gathered the documents.
—Then I'll see you on Monday.
Astrid watched him turn toward the door.
That was it.
Was he really going to leave again?
A part of her wanted to let him go.
It was the most sensible thing.
The most reasonable thing.
But another part of her, much more persistent, had been asking the same question for days.
What was that?
A mistake?
A coincidence?
Was it only her?
She couldn't stand not knowing anymore.
—Where do you think you're going?
Her voice still carried its usual firmness, but something fragile hid beneath every word.
Adrian turned just enough to look at her.
—To rest. It's been a long day.
—No.
She stepped forward, forcing him to stop.
It wasn't an order.
It wasn't a plea.
It was desperation disguised as authority.
—You can't leave like this.
He glanced at the empty hallway.
Only the distant echo of the main hall remained.
—Astrid...
—Look at me when I'm talking to you.
She closed the distance even further.
Why is she so close?
Adrian felt his mind searching for the place where it always found shelter:
Logic.
This is an argument.
I should be thinking of counterarguments.
But for some reason, he couldn't focus.
Why does it suddenly feel difficult to breathe normally?
Astrid locked her eyes onto his.
—You always do this.
He frowned slightly.
—Do what?
—Keep that unbearable calm. As if nothing can affect you.
Focus. Finances. Audits. The board meeting. Anything but this.
—I'm not trying to provoke you —he replied calmly.
—That's the problem! I never know what you're trying to do.
Her voice weakened at the end of the sentence.
—Or is it because you're in a hurry to go to your fiancée?
There was a brief silence.
—And?
Astrid let out a bitter laugh.
—"And"? Is that all?
She took another step forward.
Now only a few inches separated them.
Adrián remained still.
Back away.
He didn't.
Why aren't you stepping back?
Because doing so would look like running away.
And because a much less rational part of him refused to break that closeness.
—Astrid...
—Don't pretend you don't understand.
He did understand.
That was exactly the problem.
He could negotiate billion-dollar mergers, anticipate political movements weeks in advance, and dismantle any opponent in a boardroom.
But in front of a woman looking at him like that...
He had no strategy.
Even though he knew getting involved with the female protagonist was a terrible idea.
—I don't want to argue with you —he finally said, with a calmness that cost him far more than he showed.
Astrid held his gaze for several seconds.
The anger was still there.
So was the frustration.
But beneath both of them was something far more dangerous.
Adrián took a step toward her, his palms slightly raised as he tried to ease the tension.
—Astrid...
She shook her head and, on impulse, pushed him one last time.
Adrián's back gently hit the stone wall.
He didn't react to the gesture. He simply remained there, watching her with a calm expression that was completely different from what he truly felt inside.
Silence fell between them.
Only their accelerated breathing could be heard.
Astrid's chest rose and fell rapidly. Anger still reflected in her eyes, but it was no longer the only thing there.
There was frustration.
Fear.
And a feeling she had spent far too long trying to ignore.
She took one step closer.
Then another.
Adrián felt his heart pounding with a force that seemed completely uncharacteristic of him.
This is an argument. I should be thinking about how to end it.
But he couldn't find a single argument.
Astrid slowly raised her hand to the lapel of his jacket.
She didn't know what she was doing.
She only knew she needed to stop imagining answers.
She needed one.
A real one.
—You're impossible...
Her voice was barely a whisper.
Adrián watched her silently.
She searched his eyes for an answer.
Just one.
Something that would tell her everything had been a mistake.
Or that it should never have happened.
Or that he wanted her to leave.
Anything.
Anything that would make her stop.
But she found nothing.
Only the same uncertainty she had been seeing in him for days.
And suddenly, she understood something.
He didn't know what he was feeling either.
So she stopped searching for answers.
And simply let herself be carried by the moment.
She closed the distance...
and kissed him.
His eyes widened slightly, unable to hide his surprise.
What is happening...?
He knew he should pull away.
He should stop this before it went too far.
Yet, for a moment, his body completely ignored the commands of his mind.
And for the first time in a long while, he discovered that a part of him simply didn't want to move away.
The warmth of her lips broke the final thread of rationality he had been holding onto.
It was a terrible idea.
He understood that with absolute clarity.
Astrid didn't act like this.
And he was precisely the person she was supposed to stay away from.
So why was neither of them stepping back?
For the first time in a long time, Adrián Valmont discovered that there were situations where neither his intelligence, his discipline, nor his iron self-control were enough.
And that realization was both dangerously sweet and irresistibly terrifying.
When they finally separated, both were breathing heavily.
They remained still, holding each other's gaze, while the tension between them became something they could no longer pretend didn't exist.
Meanwhile, Li Shen walked through the corridor searching for Astrid.
He carried a small wooden box in his hands.
Lunch.
When he reached the office door, he knocked softly.
—Astrid.
Inside, there was an abrupt silence.
One second.
Two.
Then Astrid's voice answered, far too forced to sound natural.
—No...! Don't come in. I'm... busy.
Li Shen stopped, listening carefully.
There was a strange sound coming from inside: heavy breathing mixed with a rhythm that sounded like dry, uneven clapping.
—Are you alright? —he asked with genuine concern.— I brought you lunch.
—Yes... yes, I'm fine... —Astrid replied between breaths.— Leave. I'm busy.
Li Shen tilted his head.
The control and calmness that always characterized him remained intact, but his curiosity grew.
Astrid needed her space.
He would respect that...
For now.
The office was a complete disaster.
Adrián's jacket rested on a chair.
Astrid's blazer had been left beside the door.
A tie hung from the back of a sofa, while a shoe had somehow ended up several meters away, as if the two of them had forgotten the exact moment they stopped caring about anything else.
The impeccable order that usually defined the office had completely disappeared.
It looked as if a storm had passed through the room...
or as if common sense had decided to abandon it for a few minutes.
Adrián still hadn't fully processed what had happened.
His mind was trying to reconstruct, step by step, how they had reached this point.
It couldn't.
Astrid couldn't find any words either.
Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she hid her face against Adrián's chest, unable to look him in the eyes.
Neither of them dared to break the silence.
Because they both understood that the moment they did, they would have to face a single question.
What had just happened between them?
Adrián finished buttoning his shirt and turned around instinctively.
—Don't look! —Astrid exclaimed.
Adrián immediately turned his head away.
—Sorry.
A few seconds passed.
He frowned.
—Although... now that I think about it...
Astrid felt a bad feeling rising inside her.
—What?
—We just...
—Don't say it!
—...Yeah, you're right.
The Imperial Hotel of Valenheim was not simply a building.
It was a symbol.
For more than a century, it had dominated the center of the capital, its white marble towers and glass walls rising above the city's older buildings like a silent reminder of who had financed its reconstruction.
It had been built after the Great Continental Crisis, when the countries of the continent were struggling to recover from a devastating combination of wars, debt, and the loss of their strategic industries.
At that time, the most powerful business families had gathered their resources to rebuild the nation's economy.
The government provided the laws.
The businessmen provided the capital.
And the Imperial Hotel was created as a place where both forces could meet.
Since then, every generation had repeated the same tradition.
Ministers arrived there to announce reforms.
Business leaders arrived to present investments.
Heirs arrived to prove that their family names still carried weight.
Families that had built their fortunes over generations.
That night, the Valenheim Economic Summit was being held, the annual meeting of the National Industrial Council.
Officially, it was a gathering to recognize the country's industrial achievements and strengthen cooperation between the private sector and the government.
In practice, it was much more than that.
It was the place where people decided who was rising.
Who was losing influence.
And who still possessed enough power to change the rules.
That was why they were there.
The major business groups.
Foreign representatives.
Ministers.
The heirs of founding families.
Everyone gathered under the same roof.
The news of Minister Edmund von Albrecht's collapse and unexpected recovery had spread through the capital with surprising speed.
Newspapers called it a miracle.
Doctors avoided making statements.
And high society had only one question.
Who was the young man who had saved the minister?
That night, the Lorme family hosted a private reception in Edmund's honor, now that he had fully recovered.
It was not a celebration.
It was a gesture of gratitude.
And also a declaration.
Anyone who received an invitation understood immediately that they were still considered part of the circle where the country's most important decisions were made.
Vehicles began arriving at the red carpet entrance.
Ministers arrived.
Presidents of major corporations.
Ambassadors.
One after another, they were announced by the master of ceremonies.
But when a new limousine stopped in front of the entrance, the murmurs faded.
It was not a known family.
Not a businessman.
Not a politician.
The butler announced clearly:
—Mr. Li Shen, special guest of Minister Edmund von Albrecht.
For the first time that night...
several of the most powerful people in the hall turned their attention toward the same man.
Li Shen stepped out of the vehicle with the same simplicity he always carried.
No escorts.
No jewelry.
No attempt to impress anyone.
He wore a perfectly proper dark suit, although it was clearly far more modest than those worn by the other guests.
He did not look out of place.
But he also did not look like he belonged to that world.
And yet...
the doors opened for him with the same respect given to a head of state.
The moment he entered the lobby, Edmund left the conversation he was having with several ministers.
The elderly man walked directly toward him.
—Mr. Li.
The old man smiled with genuine warmth.
—I'm glad you accepted my invitation.
It was a simple gesture.
But it completely changed the atmosphere.
Because everyone understood the same thing.
Li Shen was not the one seeking to approach power.
Power was the one coming to greet him.
Isabelle walked one step ahead of Li Shen.
Not because she wanted to guide him.
But because she understood that, in a place like this, first impressions were everything.
—My grandfather insists that you meet a few people before the night is over.
Li Shen nodded with the same calmness with which he had accepted everything else since arriving.
—If that is his wish.
Isabelle glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
It was strange.
Anyone else in his position would have taken advantage of the opportunity.
A man who had just saved Edmund von Albrecht's life had, for one night, the attention of every important family in the country.
He could ask for favors.
He could establish connections.
He could turn this moment into an advantage.
Li Shen simply walked.
As if none of it mattered.
As they crossed the hall, conversations lowered slightly.
They did not stop.
It was not a reaction of surprise.
It was something more refined.
Observation.
In that place, nobody stared for too long.
Nobody wanted to appear interested.
But everyone was interested.
The unknown young man had accomplished something that many experienced doctors had failed to do.
And he had done it without asking for anything in return.
In a hall where everything had a price, that was almost suspicious.
Isabelle stopped in front of a small group.
—Allow me to introduce him.
The nearby conversations faded.
Not out of respect.
Out of curiosity.
—Mr. Li Shen.
She paused briefly.
—The man who saved my grandfather's life.
Several expressions changed.
Some with admiration.
Others with calculation.
Isabelle continued:
—The Valmont family.
Adrián stepped forward.
He did not need to hurry.
He had never needed to prove that he belonged there.
The room already recognized it.
He extended his hand.
—Adrián Valmont.
Li Shen accepted the greeting.
—Li Shen.
The contact lasted only a few seconds.
But both men observed each other carefully.
Adrián expected to find ambition.
Pride.
Some hidden desire behind that calm demeanor.
He found nothing.
And that was precisely what was strange.
—My grandfather always said that a doctor capable of remaining calm when everyone else loses control is worth more than a hundred specialists.
Li Shen slightly lowered his head.
—Your grandfather is generous.
I only did what needed to be done.
A simple answer.
Without false modesty.
Without any intention of impressing anyone.
Adrián smiled faintly.
Then he remembered something.
That kind of answer always appeared at the beginning of stories.
Characters who wanted nothing.
Characters who seemed uninterested in power or wealth.
Characters who were dangerously difficult to predict.
—Katherine Starling.
Her voice gently broke the silence.
She stepped forward.
—It is a pleasure to meet you.
Li Shen inclined his head.
—The pleasure is mine.
Katherine held his gaze for a few moments.
She was not trying to analyze him the way she would a business partner.
It was something simpler than that.
She was trying to understand him.
Everyone in that hall wore a mask.
Some used theirs to hide ambition.
Others to hide fear.
Others to hide weakness.
But Li Shen...
It seemed as if he had none.
And that was stranger than any mask.
A few meters away, Astrid watched silently.
She should not have cared.
That was the problem.
Li Shen was an uncomfortable situation.
An old promise.
An absurd contract.
Something she would deal with when she had time.
It had nothing to do with Adrián.
It had nothing to do with the two of them.
Isabelle smiled.
—My grandfather used to say that some people spend an entire lifetime trying to enter this circle.
She looked at Li Shen.
—You did it in a single night.
Li Shen gently shook his head.
—I did not come here to meet important people.
The hall fell silent.
Not because he had said something offensive.
But because he had said something that no one there could afford to say.
—I came because the minister invited me.
And that was all.
There was no strategy.
No calculation.
No hidden intention.
For several seconds, no one knew how to respond.
Because in a place where everyone was searching for an opportunity...
someone had arrived who was searching for none.
The Grand Hall of the Imperial Hotel shone beneath the golden lights.
A few meters from the stage, businessmen, ministers, and foreign representatives surrounded Adrián Valmont.
To anyone observing from the outside, this was the center of power.
Contracts.
Investments.
Alliances.
Decisions capable of changing entire industries.
While the toasts and conversations continued upstairs, not all of the guests remained in the main hall.
Some of the most powerful men in the country quietly slipped away from the reception.
Because the most important decisions were rarely made in front of cameras.
Henri Valmont was one of them.
He waited until the cameras stopped following him before leaving the hall without drawing attention.
He did not take the main elevator.
He was not accompanied by assistants.
Instead, he walked through a corridor reserved for hotel staff until he reached a door that appeared on no public blueprint.
Three people were already waiting for him there.
No greetings were exchanged.
None were necessary.
The elevator descended.
With each floor, the sounds of the celebration grew more distant.
When the doors opened, a circular chamber came into view.
Dark wood.
An ancient table.
Twelve seats.
Resting upon its surface was a map of the continent.
It showed no borders.
Only trade routes.
Resources.
Markets.
Economic dependencies.
Carved into the main wall was a golden balance.
The emblem of the Aurelian Circle.
Henri took one of the twelve seats.
The others were already waiting for him.