The rest of the charity gala went on just as casually. I told Arno to pick out anything she liked, and she helped me choose a few antiques and a painting. Of course, everything she picked was top-notch. Naturally. When I asked how she knew so much about these things, she gave me a sly, flattering smile.
"Are you impressed by my skills, Lucien? By the way… your name is a bit tacky. Let me give you a nickname. How about I call you Blue Bird?" she said, looking at me playfully.
"Well, it's Blue Bird then. But an exclusive name, only for you," I chuckled. "And since you gave me a name… shouldn't I give you one too?" I gave her my best look, puppy eyes, waiting for her response-
"Hahahaha… I was just joking," she said nervously. What's wrong with him? she mumbled. She'd heard rumors about Mr. Moreaux for his distant, cold, ruthless behaviour—but flirty? No. That wasn't part of the media gossip package. Are the rumors even real? she started to doubt.
"Then you're my Sunbeam," I said smiling at her blockhead look.
"EHHHHH?!" She looked at me as if I'd just proposed marriage.
I continued solemnly, "If I'm a Blue Bird, then you're my Sunbeam…" I smiled like a man confessing to his first crush. We're even.
No, no, no… what's happening to my cheeks? she thought. Even my heart. Why is it beating like this?! Arno clutched her face with both hands. Her cheeks were burning. How does he have such a charming smile? she sighed. Am I blushing?! AHHHHHH! She screamed internally, then looked at Lucien again. I need to keep my distance. He's a dangerous man. Dangerous.
But... no but. Arno, no buts! She pinched her cheek to snap herself out of her spiraling thoughts.
"Oh no… he's still looking at me," she mumbled, internally panicking.
I don't know what was going on with her but I left out a smile, she looked like an adorable little rabbit. I let out a soft, confused growl.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for attending this charity gala hosted by Moreaux Tech," the announcer said. "Your contributions will help thousands in need. And now, to begin our grand ball, we would like to invite President Lucien Malric Moreaux and his partner, Dr. Arno Theryn Solace, for the first dance."
The crowd applauded. Loudly. All eyes turned to us.
I felt tightness in my chest. Terror. Doom. Death. I had never danced in my previous life. I didn't even know how to move with beat. I was a poor author, and later an Aedes mosquito! Mosquitos don't dance! Now I was expected to waltz in front of the crowds? A group of an upper class?! I was sweating—mentally and physically.
Ding-Dong. Ding-Dong. Something rang in my brain. I looked up.
System notification bar: Activated.
And then—Pokolo appeared. WHY.
"Help me…" I whispered.
"Whoosh! Sorry, I can't help," Pokolo beamed. "Our system is currently undergoing an update. Error 69."
"Then why the hell are you here?! You and your buggy system both need therapy!" I growled.
At that moment, despite my polished shoes and billion-dollar status, I, Lucien, was absolutely terrified.
"Blue Bird…"
That voice.
I turned. Arno was holding out her hand.
"I… I can't dance," I whispered like a man on the edge.
She gently took my hand. So soft. So smooth.
"Follow my lead," she whispered into my ear. Her warm breath brushed against my earlobe making mine red.
"Don't be nervous."
Easy for you to say, I thought. But I nodded.
I was trying my best not to tripped her. Then after a while something inside me… woke up. Maybe it was instinct, maybe romance, or maybe sheer desperation. Either way, we started to dance.
In that grand ballroom, with soft romantic music filling the air, it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The chandelier sparkled. The music swirled. The floor melted beneath us.
And Arno—God—Arno looked stunning. Too stunning to describe in words. Even a poem would fall short. I think I'm falling. Deeply. Dangerously.
Time flew. The song changed. We didn't even notice.
The applause shook us back to reality.
"Omg! They look like an ideal couple," someone whispered excitedly.
"I'm totally shipping them," another voice said with heart eyes.
In one dim corner, Angika stood stiffly, clutching her designer dress so tightly her knuckles turned white. Jealousy simmered in her chest that turned her green.
Arno...I don't believe you'll be this lucky forever, she thought bitterly.
---
Finally, around midnight, the event staggered to its end like a drunk aristocrat. With Arno—my Sunbeam—in my arm, we stepped outside. The night air was sharp and just rude enough to remind us it was past our bedtime. She shivered. I noticed.
And in less than a second, I took off my suit jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders like some cheesy K-drama lead.
She stared at me, clearly shocked. "But… you'll catch a cold," she said.
"I don't mind," I said, fully prepared to freeze to death for the sake of dramatic effect.
And right then...of course someone had to ruin the moment like a mosquito buzzing at the ear...eeeeeeeee
"Mr. Moreaux. Do you know the one you're cherishing now has a dark history?"
Of all the roaches to crawl out of the past— "Auren!" Arno barked, glaring at him like she could set him on fire with sheer disappointment. "Given our history, I expected at least some decency. Don't do this. Don't let me hate you more!"
But Auren, apparently fueled by leftover ego and two cups of jealousy, kept going. "What? Afraid your big shot, Mr. Moreaux will dump you once he hears about your little... extracurriculars? How you used to sleep around with random men?"
Arno clenched her fists, about to lose her composure. "Don't spout nonsense," she warned, her voice shaking— with fury.
I calmly placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her closer like a protective cape.
"Auren, was it?" I said, looking him over.
Handsome, probably. But not my-level of handsome. More like... supporting character energy.
"Yes. I'm Auren. Arno is my ex-girlfriend. I dumped her," he said with the smugness of a man who peaked in college to cheat. I wonder why would you, a tech billionaire be interested in someone like her?"
I raised my hand to stop him halfway.
"Oops," I said. "There needs to be a tiny correction—she dumped you. Which technically makes you the ex, not the other way around. And as for who I'm interested in?" I gave him a smile as cold as the night air. "None of your business. This isn't a serial, and you're not the lead."
Then, without another word, I pulled Arno away from those toxic people and into my car, away from the drama llama.
"I'll drop you home," I said as I opened the door for her.
She nodded. "Thank you, Blue Bird."
I grinned. "I should be the one thanking you. It was me who asked for a favor tonight, remember?"
She laughed, the kind of laugh that makes winter nights feel warm. "Then I suppose we're even, she said."
The engine let out a soft growl before humming down the road—and the silence settled like a blanket around us.
Behind us, Auren stood frozen. "Why... why..." he muttered, confused, like a man who just watched someone else eat the last slice of cake he swore he didn't want.
His heart was bleeding. Not that he could admit it.
Beside him stood Angika. She crossed her arms, watching him closely. She could tell—Auren still had feelings for Arno. But he was too proud, too bitter, too stupid to understand it fully.
And Angika, she was already planning her next move. Arno had to go. And this time, she wouldn't just wipe her out of Auren's heart. She'd scrub her out with bleach that no one will even take a fancy to her.
---