The gala glittered under crystal chandeliers, and Aria Bennett wished she could disappear into the shadows.
Expensive gowns swirled around her, and men in tailored suits laughed a little too loudly, their watches sparkling like diamonds in the bright lights. She adjusted her camera strap and reminded herself: You're here for work, not admiration.
"He's right over there," whispered Lila, her best friend, nudging her toward a cluster near the grand staircase.
"Try not to drool, okay?"
"I'm a journalist, not a fan girl," Aria muttered, rolling her eyes.
But her words felt empty the moment she navigated the crowd. Her heel caught the edge of the carpet, and she stumbled. A strong hand caught her elbow just before she could crash into a champagne table.
"Careful," a deep, smooth voice said.
Aria looked up, and there he was - Damian Blackwell. Impossibly tall, impeccably dressed, and with eyes that seemed to weigh everything they saw. Her pulse quickened. Rumors swirled around him like a storm: reclusive, wealthy, rumored connections no one could prove. And now he was looking at her.
"Thanks," she murmured, straightening herself.
She told herself it wasn't fear - just a strange sense of curiosity, of being tested.
"First time at one of these events?" he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Aria nodded. "Covering it for the magazine."
He studied her silently, tilting his head. "Then I hope you find what you're looking for."
She noticed a faint scar near his wrist, partially hidden under his cuff. And then, that subtle glance over his shoulder, as if checking for someone. Her journalist instincts pricked - something about him was off.
"Are you... expecting someone?" she asked casually.
His smile didn't waver. "Let's just say I have many acquaintances tonight."
Before she could respond, a shadow shifted across the room. A man in a tailored black suit lingered by the doorway, eyes never leaving Damian. Too deliberate. Too careful.
Aria's fingers itched for her camera, but she waited. She had to observe. Everything.
Then the shadow moved - almost imperceptibly.
But enough for Aria to notice that the man wasn't just watching Damian - he was watching her too.
Her stomach tightened. Tonight was supposed to be routine. Now, it felt like the start of something far more dangerous.
She shook her head, trying to focus on her task.
Stay professional, Aria. Remember why you're here. Yet every instinct screamed that she was stepping into a world far more dangerous than a mere gala.
The conversation between Damian and a nearby guest caught her attention. Words like deal, transter, and confidential floated to her ears. She frowned - the language felt different, almost coded. She couldn't make sense of it yet, but she made a mental note to research it later.
A waiter passed by, and Aria's eyes caught the reflection of someone watching Damian in a mirrored panel. The same figure from before, always at a distance, always observing.
Her mind raced. Who were they? Why were they following him - or her? Her pulse quickened as adrenaline surged. This was bigger than a simple billionaire story. This was something alive, dangerous.
Damian turned suddenly and looked directly at her.
She froze, caught in the sharp intensity of his gaze.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I... yes," she stammered
He gave a small nod, almost imperceptibly acknowledging her awareness of the watcher.
Then he walked away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving Aria with more questions than answers.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her first instinct was to run — but she was a journalist. And journalists chased the truth, no matter how dangerous it seemed.
As she adjusted her camera and scanned the room once more, the shadow moved again. This time, it was closer. Someone was watching her very carefully.
Her pulse raced. She told herself to stay calm, to remain professional. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she had just stepped into a world of secrets, lies, and danger — and she was already in too deep.
Everything happened so fast , but the only thing Aria couldn't take off her head was the little moment she had with Damian , before she left the party, How can she feel that safe warmth from a man that was claimed to be the Devil's son? Or was it just a misunderstanding from her own part?