He wore silence like a weapon. Sharp eyes scanned the room with cold interest. But none of it touched him. Not the smiles, not the praise. He'd seen it all-admiration that was just greed in a tuxedo.
And then... she appeared.
No spotlight followed her. No one gasped. She didn't arrive with fanfare-but she caught his eye instantly.
Leina Carter moved with grace that didn't demand attention but made it impossible to look away. Her dress was simple, elegant, hugging her in all the right ways, yet her beauty didn't need fabric or embellishment. No makeup. No pretense. Just naturally breathtaking-fresh, alive, untouchably real.
She wasn't a guest. He could tell. She was speaking softly into a discreet earpiece, glancing over seating charts and directing staff with calm control. She had that rare aura-refined yet warm, polished but untouched by arrogance. There was something... radiant about her. A kind of effortless serenity. She didn't belong to the world he ruled-and that intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.
Then came the moment.
A server stumbled. A tray of wine glasses tilted. Adrian leaned forward instinctively.
But Leina moved faster.
She spun, shielding a guest from the falling glasses. The wine splashed across her torso, staining the rich satin of her dress. Gasps followed. Whispers.
Leina didn't flinch.
She tapped her earpiece. "Carmine, clean-up crew to west pillar. Discreet."
No panic. No outrage. Just cool, level-headed grace.
Adrian was already descending the staircase, ditching his drink. He couldn't explain the pull-he never had to explain himself. But tonight, he didn't want to watch. He wanted to be there.
She was patting at the red stain with a cloth someone handed her when he arrived.
"You're soaked," he said, stopping just a step away.
She glanced up, her eyes meeting his-calm, unshaken, completely unimpressed.
"Thank you for pointing that out," she replied mildly.
He blinked. People didn't talk to him like that.
"You're Adrian Blackwood," she said, tone dry but respectful. "I recognize you from somewhere. Probably the financial pages."
"And you are...?"
"Leina Carter. I planned this event." She gave a brief nod. "And I'm still working, so if you'll excuse me-"
"Wait."
She stopped but didn't turn around.
"I'll need a planner for a private event next month. I want you."
She turned then, slowly. "We're booked solid through winter."
"I'll shift the season," he said, half-smiling.
That caught a flicker of amusement in her eyes, but it vanished quickly. "Not everything bends for money, Mr. Blackwood."
Then she walked away-not out of disrespect, but dignity. No flirtation, no performance. Just quiet confidence. Like she lived in her own world and had no interest in his crown.
And Adrian stood there, caught off guard for the first time in years. Every woman he'd met had either tried to impress him or undress for him. This one?
She hadn't even blinked.
And that-that-was what made him decide.
He would know her.