Fiona Alaric didn't need her parents to tell her who Keigh Dynamite was.
She'd known for years.
She knew the cadence of his voice from televised interviews, the confident tilt of his chin during board meetings captured by business magazines. She'd memorized his achievements, the expansion of Dynamite Holdings, the clean precision of his leadership, the way he made control look like art.
To everyone else, Keigh was a name.
To Fiona, he was a promise.
The morning light spilled through the Alaric dining room, cutting across her untouched breakfast. Her mother's voice floated from across the table, smooth and rehearsed. "You'll wear the sapphire dress this weekend. It's elegant, understated? he'll notice."
Fiona's lips curved faintly. "He always does."
Her father folded his newspaper, eyes narrowing. "Have you met him?"
"Not officially." Her tone was light, almost amused. "But I've attended enough fundraisers and conferences to know what kind of man he is."
Her mother smiled approvingly. "Good. Then you'll know how to impress him."
"Oh," Fiona murmured, tracing her finger along the rim of her glass, "I don't plan on impressing him."
Her father raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"I plan on making him fall in love with me."
The silence that followed was brief but telling. Her mother looked delighted. Her father simply nodded, as if that was precisely what he expected.
But Fiona's mind was already far from that breakfast table.
It was in the gleam of Keigh's cufflinks in a photo she'd seen last week.
It was in the sound of his laughter at a charity gala two months ago, when he'd passed her without realizing she existed.
He'd looked past her and she'd smiled, pretending it didn't matter. But it did. It always did.
Now, fate or family, was giving her another chance.
And this time, she wouldn't be invisible.
When her parents left the room, Fiona pulled out her phone and opened an old folder labeled "D."
Inside were clippings, screenshots, and saved posts, every bit of information she'd collected over the years. His quotes, his photos, his achievements.
Her thumb lingered on one image of him at an awards event, smile barely there, suit immaculate, eyes sharp.
"You don't know it yet," she whispered, voice soft but certain, "but you're already mine."
Her reflection in the glass smiled back, calm, beautiful, and terrifyingly sure.
The Alaric mansion was quiet by nightfall. The faint ticking of the antique clock echoed through the marble halls as Fiona stood before the full-length mirror in her room, wrapped in a silk robe the color of champagne.
On her vanity lay a carefully arranged line of perfumes, lipsticks, and diamond pins, each one chosen, not by chance, but for the impression it created. She'd spent the evening studying her own reflection the way some studied contracts, detail by detail, flaw by flaw, until nothing felt accidental.
Her phone rested nearby, the screen still open to a photo of Keigh Dynamite. The faint light from it reflected in her eyes.
"Good evening, Mr. Dynamite," she said softly, lifting her chin, her tone rehearsed but graceful. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
She studied her reflection's smile, refined, polished then frowned. "Too formal."
She tried again, loosening her posture this time.
"Keigh," she murmured, letting his name roll off her tongue like a secret. "You probably don't remember me, but I've admired your work for years."
Her expression softened, this one was better. Approachable. Warm. Just the right balance of admiration and allure.
She tilted her head, watching herself through half-lidded eyes. "I understand you, Keigh," she whispered to the mirror. "You want control. But I could make losing it feel safe."
Her voice was a whisper now, barely audible above the clock's ticking.
"He needs someone who fits his world," she continued, pacing slowly. "Someone who won't embarrass his name, someone who gets it. That's me."
She picked up a glass of wine and sipped, her reflection shimmering slightly in the glass. "They think this dinner is just an introduction," she said with a faint smile. "But it's not. It's the beginning."
Her eyes flicked toward the phone again. The photo of Keigh on-screen was one she'd taken herself, zoomed in from a distance at a corporate event. He'd been laughing with his colleagues, unaware of her gaze.
Fiona touched the edge of the screen with her fingertip. "You looked happy that day," she whispered. "You'll smile like that with me. You just don't know it yet."
The clock struck nine.
She turned away from the mirror, her practiced smile returning like armor.
In the dim light of her room, Fiona Alaric wasn't just a woman preparing for a dinner.
She was a woman preparing for destiny, one she intended to claim, no matter who stood in her way.