I wore a black suit to match her bottle green gown. It wasn't a coincidence that it complemented the bottle green gown beside me. I'd chosen it deliberately. To match her. To mirror her quiet elegance with restraint of my own. Soon as we made an entrance all eyes looked at us.
A hush swept through the crowd like wind bending a field of wheat. Eyes shifted. Faces turned. Murmurs rose in ripples. We'd stepped into a room of power, wealth, and polished etiquette, but in that moment, all the careful masks cracked.
Isn't that the President of Moreaux Tech? Someone pointed.
Who is that young Lady besides him? I thought he was single, a young noble lady sighed in disappointment.
They whispered among themselves. All were curious, curiosity thinly disguised as politeness, envy wrapped in sweet voice. Their eyes moved between us as though trying to fit this scene into the story they thought they knew about me.
I looked at her, Ms. Solace, composed, elegant, poised and luminous under the chandeliers' white light. With each step her gown moved with pure elegance She looked like a brave warrior from a lioness realm. Are you feeling uncomfortable? I asked, voice concern.
Are you worried about me? She gave me a mischievous look, her tone is mixed of amusement and seriousness. Then added, I'm not a women of weak heart Mr...?
Call me Lucien, I smiled at her.
Before she could say more, Shan appeared at my side, smiling in the way only someone who knew me entirely too well could. He didn't bow—but there was a respect in the way he stood slightly angled toward Arno.
I have to steal Mr. Moreaux for a while. Shan gave a biggest smile while taking permission from her.
Startled...she looked at Shan. Why are you asking me? Arno replied shockingly.
I gave a pleased look to shan. (Actually I got quite happy when Shan asked her. It's like He's taking permission from Mrs. Lucien). Then I turned my eyes at her.
Will you be alright? I asked Arno.
Just go. She nodded with quiet assurance. I'll be fine Mr.?
Lucien, I said again.
Okay, Lucien, I 'll be fine. Don't worry about me, she smirked. No one will dare to mess with me. Feel at ease. She assured me in quite confidence tone.
If anyone come disturbing, call me okay? I asked her. I'll be back as soon as possible.
Well...then I might bother you Lucien, she smiled again. Well, this time her smile gave me goosebumps though as if she is planning to not let a fly slip her hand.
Assured me finally took Shan lead.
---
"I was wondering why you left Auren… turns out you've already caught a bigger fish, Arno."
Arno was absolutely minding her own business when a familiar voice slithered into her ears. She didn't need to look to know who she was. That voice—once sweet as honey—now irritated her more than anything. The so-called white lotus of high society.
Angika Ruxin.
To the world, a delicate flower. To Arno, a venomous weed.
Arno kept her silence. Her wine glass hovered in her hand, steady.
"Huh." A bitter chuckle followed. "You broke up with me just to cling to Mr. Moreaux?" Auren sneered, his eyes dragging over her like she was something vile.
This time, Arno didn't flinch. She felt nothing. She wasn't the type to chain herself to the past—especially not the kind that reeked of betrayal. She knew when to let go, and more importantly, whom to never look back at.
"You're a shameless woman," Auren spat. "Does Mr. Moreaux know you've been whoring around hotel rooms with every man who smiled at you?"
Her ears burned.
Until now, she'd tried to stay calm. To walk away. To be better. But if they wanted to start a fire, she'd gladly hand them the matches.
She turned. Her eyes found Angika's—wide, artificial, trembling like a bad actress in a play she wasn't qualified to perform in.
"How dare you slander me, Angika?" Arno said, her voice low but razor-sharp. "Do you not remember? You drugged my drink. You slept with my boyfriend. You crawled into my life pretending to be a friend, and slithered out like the snake you are." She said it loud enough to reach at least few people.
A gasp rippled through the crowd. Someone whispered, loud enough to be heard:
"So she's the third wheel."
"No wonder," another voice chimed in, mocking. "Her mother was a mistress too. Guess the apple doesn't fall far."
Angika's hand clenched her dress so tightly the fabric strained, her other hand grasping Auren's as if he were her last shred of dignity.
Auren gritted his teeth. "Very well, Arno. Let's see how long that smug face lasts. Once Mr. Moreaux is done playing with you, he'll toss you aside like garbage."
Tch." Arno rolled her eyes and turned her back on two of them to find her seat. She clenched a fist, ( personally she wanted to beat them) but she is an expert when it comes to keep composure.
"They never learn, do they?" she muttered to herself. Two clowns short of a circus.
---
I was in the middle of a perfectly bland business conversation when Shan leaned in and whispered in my ear, "Someone's causing trouble for Ms. Solace."
My face must've done something dramatic—maybe my jaw dropped, maybe my soul left the chat—because the Flower Group CEO paused mid-sentence and tilted his head.
"Mr. Moreaux? An emergency? Is everything alright? " he asked, ever so charmingly fake-concerned. It's a common thing in business world.
"I'm terribly sorry to cut our conversation short," I said with a polite smile that probably looked more like a sneaky.
"Don't worry about it," the sly Flower Group CEO smiled back like a snake in an expensive suit. "It was a pleasure meeting you. And please—no need to be so formal."
"Then I'll take your advice," I replied. "I'm sure we'll talk again soon."
Without waiting for another fake chuckle, I turned and walked—okay, borderline jogged—back to the main hall.
And there she was.
Arno.
Sitting in the front row like nothing in the world had happened. Relaxed. Regal. A cup of wine in her hand, legs crossed, conversing with a few high-society elites like she was born in a palace and I was the butler who forgot her coat.
I cleared my throat before speaking. "Ahem… Sorry I'm late," I said, trying to act casual. "I got caught up with some work."
My eyes scanned her face with the intensity of a forensic detective. "Did they bother you?" I asked, leaning in, gently brushing her cheek like I was checking for invisible fingerprints.
There was nothing. Not a single shadow nor a finger mark!
So… so the dramas lied to me?
"All those years watching chinese drama…in my world" I mumbled. "And not even one slap?"
"Did you say something?" Arno asked, blinking at me with polite confusion. And why are you mumbling to yourself?
I laughed it off. "No, no. Just talking to my... past trauma.
If you say so... Then she turned her focused on the main event.
---