Nara woke up with a heaviness in her chest she couldn't explain. It wasn't sadness. Not quite anxiety either. Just… something.
She blamed the day. The Dynamite anniversary celebration had been the talk of the city for weeks, a grand, exclusive, invitation-only event that only the wealthiest and most influential could dream of attending.
Her company had received an invitation, of course. Partner perks, and since she and Hellen were the face of the business, they were expected to go.
She didn't want to go. She'd spent the whole morning debating what this event would mean. Not for the business but for her.
Because ever since the dinner, ever since Keigh said those words to her, there was an invisible line between them, not crossed, but undeniably there.
And he had been quieter the last two days. Not distant, just… tense, and she didn't know why. Not until she overheard two partners whispering during a brief meeting:
"…and tonight they'll probably announce the arrangement."
"Fiona? Yes. Both families want it."
Nara froze in her seat before anyone could notice.
Arranged marriage. So the rumors were real.
Her heartbeat thudded so loudly she barely heard the rest. She didn't know Fiona, but she'd heard the name, heard she was elegant, old-money raised, everything a family like the Dynamites would want.
And suddenly everything clicked. His tension, silence and the strange hesitation in his texts. So tonight… he'd be standing beside someone else. Someone chosen for him, someone he was expected to marry.
Nara told herself it wasn't her business.
She wasn't part of his world, she wasn't supposed to care, but her chest felt tight as she stood in front of her closet hours later, trying to pick a dress without thinking about him.
In the end, she chose something simple but striking, a deep wine-red satin gown with a clean silhouette, a low open back, and thin straps that caught the light with every movement. Her hair fell in soft waves over one shoulder, and she wore delicate gold earrings that brushed her collarbone. She didn't want to try too hard… but she didn't want to look forgettable either.
When she arrived at the venue, the entire space shimmered, chandeliers dripping crystal, staff moving in perfect formation, guests dressed like royalty. Music floated through the air, soft and expensive.
She stepped inside, greeting those she knew, pretending she belonged, but her eyes kept drifting, looking for him. She hated that she was looking.
And then she saw him.
Keigh.
Across the room, and for a second, she forgot how to breathe.
He wore a tailored black suit that fit him like it had been cut onto his body, paired with a midnight silk dress shirt with no tie. The top two buttons were undone, effortlessly rebellious, dangerously elegant. The warm lighting sharpened his jawline, and his freshly cut hair sat in soft, controlled curls.
But that wasn't what got her. It was the way he looked at her.
His eyes softened the moment they landed on her, slowly widening, like she had just stepped into his reality and nothing else mattered. She saw it happen. Saw the way he straightened. Saw the way his breath visibly hitched.
He wasn't standing with Fiona, he wasn't with his parents.
He was alone.
And for a split second, everything else dissolved, the music, the chatter, the glittering room.
Just him, just her, and the weight of everything unspoken between them.
He began walking toward her.
Slowly, deliberately, as if he'd been waiting for her to arrive.
Her breath caught.
This wasn't her world. This wasn't her moment, but the look in his eyes said otherwise.
And for the first time that night…
she wondered if she had misunderstood everything.