The Lu Group's private networking gala wasn't for the public eye.This wasn't an event for paparazzi or influencers. It was for the true power players — the decision-makers, the silent investors, the heirs and heiresses who didn't flaunt their wealth, because they were the standard.
Liyana Xu stepped out of her matte-black car in a burgundy velvet gown with an off-shoulder cut, sculpted to power and femininity. Mira walked behind her, taking notes, checking her phone, subtly scanning the crowd as they entered.
"You're late," Damien's voice came from the grand staircase.
He stood above her like the king he was, dark suit, hair perfectly tousled, his eyes only for her.
"I prefer the word 'fashionably,'" Liyana replied, a small smile curving her lips.
Damien walked down to meet her, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek—just firm enough to make a statement. He whispered, "She's here, by the way."
Liyana didn't need to ask who she was.
Inside the ballroom, champagne flowed again, but this time, so did whispers.
This wasn't the Aurum Foundation anymore. This was Lu territory.And everyone knew who the unofficial queen of this empire was: Liyana Xu.
She greeted investors, exchanged polite smiles with foreign diplomats, and made small talk with board members. Mira hovered nearby, eyes sharp, until she caught sight of her target.
"Fifteen degrees northwest, white dress, high bun, no visible name tag," Mira murmured under her breath. "Qin Xieren."
Liyana's gaze found her instantly.
Qin Xieren stood beside Damien's assistant, laughing softly, her hand brushing the sleeve of a man's suit too casually. She looked graceful—harmless, even. But Liyana had learned that not all knives were cold steel. Some were velvet-gloved and dipped in perfume.
"She's circling," Mira added.
Liyana raised her glass, unbothered. "Let her."
Moments later, Xieren approached.
"Liyana," she said, smile perfectly shaped, "you look breathtaking tonight."
"I try," Liyana replied, voice smooth as her wine. "And you look... thoughtful."
Xieren's smile twitched at the edges. "May I steal a moment of your time? There's something I'd love to discuss—business, actually."
Liyana arched a brow. "You know where my office is."
"I was hoping for something a little more personal than paperwork."
Liyana gave her a long look. Then, with the ghost of a nod, she followed Xieren to the side balcony overlooking the courtyard.
The evening air outside was cooler, quieter. The glow of city lights stretched like stardust beneath them.
Xieren leaned against the marble balustrade, wine glass untouched.
"I'm sure Damien told you," she began, "we were quite close in school. Worked on several case studies, competed in global finance panels. He was... intense, even back then."
"He still is," Liyana replied, arms folded neatly.
Xieren smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "He's different now. Calmer. Grounded."
"Love does that to a man," Liyana said.
There it was—the flicker of tension in Xieren's jaw.
"How long have you two been... involved?" she asked.
Liyana tilted her head, pretending to think. "Long enough to see through sweet smiles and veiled questions."
Xieren laughed, caught off guard. "Is that a warning?"
"No. Just an observation."
There was a pause. Then, Xieren leaned closer, her voice lower."You know, being with someone like Damien... it comes with its own shadows. I used to wonder if anyone could ever handle them."
Liyana didn't blink. "You mean handle you lingering in them?"
The silence stretched.
Xieren looked away for a second too long. "I didn't come here to fight."
"I didn't come here to lose," Liyana replied, her voice unshakable.
Xieren gave a slow, tight smile. "You're sharp. It's no wonder he fell for you."
Liyana stepped closer, every inch a queen. "Let me be very clear, Miss Qin. I don't play games I haven't already mastered. You want to float around Damien like some distant star? Fine. But don't try to orbit me."
"Noted," Xieren said, chin lifted.
They stood there for a moment, two women who knew what power tasted like—and who would never settle for being background characters in each other's stories.
Back inside, Damien stood waiting near the piano lounge, talking with investors. But his eyes kept flicking toward the balcony.
When Liyana reentered, chin high, glass untouched, he exhaled.
She walked straight to him.
"Problem?" he asked, voice low.
"Nothing I can't handle," she said, lips brushing his ear. "But I hope you have a plan for keeping your ghosts out of our garden."
Damien met her gaze and nodded once. "She won't be a problem."
But Liyana wasn't convinced yet.
Not when ghosts started smiling like saints.