"Touch her again," Aiden growled, eyes glowing dangerously, "and you lose a hand."
Alex paled. The confident, arrogant mask he always wore cracked as Aiden's fingers tightened around his collar.
"I—I wasn't—" Alex spluttered, his hands gripping Aiden's wrist, struggling against the iron grip. But Aiden wasn't letting go.
I stared. Because for the first time, I saw it—something primal and terrifying in Aiden's eyes.
He wasn't just furious, he was seething.
Aiden's grip on Alex's collar didn't loosen. If anything, it tightened.
Alex struggled, his hands clawing at Aiden's wrist, but it was useless. Aiden barely flinched. His presence alone was suffocating.
"Aiden?" I called softly, uncertain.
He didn't move. Didn't look at me. His focus remained locked on Alex, his expression void of mercy.
"Did I make myself clear?" Aiden's voice was dangerously low.
Alex's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his bravado crumbling under Aiden's lethal glare. I was still pressed against the railing, heart racing, breath shallow.
"You're making a scene, Aiden," I continued, softer this time.
My words must have gone through because his grip loosened just slightly. "Apologize."
Alex's jaw clenched. "For what?"
Aiden slammed him harder against the pillar, making a few passing guests jump at the sudden impact. Alex winced. "Fine. I'm sorry."
Aiden let go, and Alex staggered back, coughing as he clutched his throat. His glare was filled with hatred, but there was something else, too.
Fear.
Aiden adjusted his cuffs, completely unbothered. "Leave," he said coolly.
Alex hesitated. "This isn't over."
Aiden tilted his head. "Do you really want to test me right now?"
Alex took one last look at me—something almost desperate flickering behind his eyes—before turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd.
Aiden exhaled slowly, his hands flexing as if shaking off the urge to do more. Then, finally, he turned to me.
"You okay?"
I nodded stiffly, not trusting my voice.
My wrist still tingled where Alex had grabbed me. Aiden's eyes flickered down to it, his expression darkening, but he didn't say anything.
Instead, he gently took my hand and led me back into the ballroom.
The chandeliers above glowed warmly, the music was still soft and elegant, and people still whispered and gossiped as if nothing had just happened.
I, however, was still shaking.
Sophia appeared out of nowhere, grabbing my arm. "Oh my God." She gaped at me, then at Aiden, then back at me.
Aiden barely reacted, simply excusing himself with a murmured, "I'll get drinks," before disappearing into the crowd.
"What was that? I was looking for you everywhere, and then I see—" Sophia mimed a violent slam against a wall. "Do you know how hot that was? Not that I condone violence, but damn."
I exhaled sharply, my hand shaking slightly as I rubbed my temples. "It wasn't hot, Sophia."
Sophia snorted. "Tell that to your face."
I scowled. "Shut up."
She grinned but softened when she saw my expression. "Hey. Are you okay?"
I hesitated, but before I could answer, Aiden returned, handing me a glass of champagne. Without thinking, I downed half of it in one go.
Aiden arched a brow. "That bad?"
"You tell me," I muttered, but the warmth of the drink settled me a little.
Aiden's hand brushed against my waist again, grounding me in that way that I didn't want to acknowledge felt… comforting.
Just as I thought the night would pass without any more drama, I spotted someone moving through the crowd.
My entire body went rigid.
Aiden noticed immediately. "What?"
I didn't answer. My voice had lodged itself somewhere in my throat. Because walking towards me, his expression carved from stone, was my father.
"What is he doing here?" I whispered.
"I invited him," Aiden said smoothly. He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. "Now, remember what we talked about this morning. You don't need them. Show them who's in charge."
My father stopped in front of us, his dark eyes assessing and calculating. "Jasmine." His voice was sharp. "A word."
Aiden didn't move. If anything, his grip on me tightened, subtle but unyielding.
My father's gaze flickered down to it, his expression cooling. "Alone."
Aiden's jaw ticked, but I placed a hand on his chest before he could argue. "It's fine."
I followed my father past the golden pillars, past the velvet curtains, until we stood in a secluded corner of the ballroom. His face was unreadable, but I could feel the weight of his disappointment suffocating the air between us.
"You have no idea what you've done," he hissed.
I folded my arms. "Oh? Enlighten me."
He inhaled slowly, as if trying to keep his patience. "The company is bankrupt, Jasmine."
My breath caught.
"The banks are closing in. Investors are pulling out. Your marriage to Alexander was supposed to save us."
A cold, bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. "Of course. Of course, that's what this is about." I shook my head. "So that's it? That's all I was to you?"
"Jasmine—"
"A business deal." I stepped closer, my voice sharp. "Not a daughter. Not a person. Just a transaction."
He didn't answer. He didn't have to.
A scoff sounded from nearby.
I turned to see my cousin, Daniel, walking towards us and smirking. "So, what, you whore yourself out to a richer man, and suddenly you think you can—"
I didn't even hesitate.
Slap.
The sound echoed through the hall.
Daniel's head snapped to the side, his smirk vanishing.
I stepped forward, my voice dripping with venom. "Watch your mouth. That's your new boss you're talking to."
Daniel blinked. "What?"
I straightened my dress, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle. Then, I turned back to my father. "In less than twenty-four hours, I'm buying the company."
His face turned ghostly white.
"Which means you," I glanced at Daniel, "and every single executive will be working for me."
The silence between us was thick.
Daniel stammered, and my father's face turned red.
That's when Aiden appeared behind me, his presence swallowing the space as he rested a hand on my lower back.
"Problem, sweetheart?" he murmured.
I smirked. "Not anymore, darling."
—
The rest of the night passed in a blur of false smiles and too-sweet champagne.
After the confrontation, everything changed. The whispers around me got louder, and I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I walked through the ballroom with Aiden.
I wasn't just the daughter of a socialite anymore; people were looking at me like I was something dangerous, even untouchable. I had just slapped my cousin in front of the city's elite and announced a corporate takeover as casually as if I were giving a toast at dinner.
And maybe, for the first time, I didn't mind it.
Sophia eventually slipped away with a wide-eyed grin and a promise to "debrief later," and Aiden stayed close.
We didn't say much as the night wound down. We didn't need to.
When it was finally over, he led me outside to where his modern black car waited at the curb. The streets were quieter now, the buzz of the gala fading behind us. I could still hear faint music drifting through the grand entrance as we stepped into the night.
"I'll have someone bring your car around in the morning," Aiden said casually, opening the passenger door for me.
I slid in, gathering the hem of my dress, and leaned back against the cool leather, finally exhaling. Aiden got in next to me, his movements unhurried and controlled—as always.
We didn't speak much on the drive. He didn't ask me if I was okay again. I didn't bring up my father. But somewhere between the stoplights and city lights, a kind of truce settled over us.
When the car finally pulled up to my apartment building, I turned to him, expecting him to say something smug or throw in one of his usual teasing remarks.
But there was none.
I reached for the door, but his voice stopped me. "I'll send over the paperwork tomorrow morning," Aiden said. His eyes flicked over to me. "We'll finalise the Heart Enterprises acquisition by noon."
I studied him for a moment. "That fast?"
He arched a brow. "Do you want your father crawling back with apologies before or after lunch?"
I didn't smile—but something flickered in my chest.
I nodded, hand on the door handle. "Okay."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Jasmine."
—
The next morning, I woke early.
Maybe it was adrenaline. Or maybe my brain hadn't quite processed that, in less than twenty-four hours, I'd gone from being someone's pawn to threatening to buy an entire company out from under my own family.
After a long, scalding shower and a lot of pacing around my apartment, I finally pulled myself together. Neutral-toned power suit. Light makeup. Hair pinned with surgical precision.
I didn't want to just look like I was in control. I wanted to feel it.
And when I stepped outside?
A black Rolls-Royce was waiting at the curb.
Of course.
And beside it stood Aiden Frost.
He looked completely unfazed by the early hour, dressed in a dark three-piece suit, a coffee cup in one hand, the other tucked into his coat pocket. His expression, as usual, was unreadable—but those dark eyes tracked every movement I made as I descended the stairs.
I stopped in front of him, arms crossed, arching a brow. "And what are you doing here?"