The rain finally cleared, leaving the sky washed in a soft golden glow.
Ariana was still in the garden when one of the maids rushed toward her.
"Madam Ariana! You have a… visitor."
Ariana blinked.
"A visitor? For me?"
"Yes, madam. He said it's urgent."
Her heart tightened.
Who would visit her?
She barely had friends, and her family lived far away.
She followed the maid inside—
And stopped.
A man in a dark suit stood in the foyer, holding a slim envelope embossed with gold lettering.
"Ariana Blake?" he asked politely.
"Yes…?"
He bowed slightly and handed her the envelope.
"This is for you. From the Arrendellian Elite Women's Association."
Ariana's stomach dropped.
She had heard of them—
an infamous group of wealthy, powerful women who ran the upper-class social scene.
Damian's ex-fiancée was rumored to be connected to them.
"A-An invitation?" Ariana whispered nervously.
"Yes, madam," the man confirmed.
"An exclusive event tomorrow night. Attendance is expected from all spouses of high-ranking business leaders."
Ariana's hands trembled as she opened it.
The letter read:
To Mrs. Damian Steele,
You are formally invited to the Elite Women's Gala.
Attendance is mandatory.
We look forward to meeting the new Mrs. Steele.
Ariana felt dizzy.
Mandatory?
Meet her?
This wasn't an invitation.
It was a warning.
A reminder:
You are stepping into our world now.
She swallowed hard.
"I… I shouldn't go. I don't know how to behave at events like this."
The messenger gave a faint, knowing smile.
"Refusal would be… unwise, madam."
Ariana's heart pounded.
This wasn't kindness.
This was pressure.
Perhaps even intimidation.
****
Later That Evening
Damian returned late.
But the moment he stepped into the living room and saw Ariana clutching the letter, his expression changed instantly.
"What is that?"
Ariana approached him slowly, nervous.
"They invited me to a gala tomorrow. The Elite Women's Association."
Damian took the envelope from her hand, scanned the contents once—
And his eyes darkened sharply.
He crumpled the letter in his fist.
Ariana gasped.
"Damian—"
"They did this on purpose," he said through clenched teeth.
"They want to test you. Corner you. Embarrass you."
Ariana's stomach knotted.
"I knew it… I don't belong in their world…"
Damian's head snapped up.
"Ariana," he said, voice steady and deep.
"You are my wife. There is no world you don't belong in."
She looked at him, unsure if she believed him.
He exhaled slowly and touched her arm—
lightly, carefully, like she was something fragile.
"You don't have to go," he said.
"I'll decline the invitation."
"But wouldn't that cause problems for you?" she asked softly.
His jaw tightened.
"It doesn't matter. You come first."
Ariana froze.
He had spoken those words so simply…
so naturally…
as though they were undeniable truth.
She looked down at the invitation again.
"If I don't go… they'll think I'm scared."
"You should be," Damian said quietly.
"These women are wolves."
"But if I don't go…" she continued, voice trembling,
"…they'll think you married someone weak."
Damian stared at her.
Hard.
Intensely.
"You are not weak."
Ariana swallowed.
She didn't want to embarrass him.
She didn't want people to think she wasn't worthy of being by his side.
Finally, she nodded slowly.
"I'll go."
Damian stepped forward, closer than usual.
"Ariana… I will not let them harm you."
His voice was low, promising, unshakeable.
She felt her heart pound loudly in her ears.
"I believe you," she whispered.
Something warm flickered briefly in Damian's eyes.
Then he turned, calling sharply:
"Mrs. Rowan!"
The housekeeper hurried over.
"Yes, sir?"
"Prepare Ariana for the gala. Dress. Jewelry. Training. Everything."
Ariana's eyes widened.
"D-Damian, I don't need training—"
"You do."
He looked at her gently.
"And you won't face them unprepared."
She nodded slowly.
Her heart was beating too fast.
Tomorrow…
she would walk into the center of the elite world.
And Damian Steele—
the invisible, feared, untouchable CEO—
would walk beside her.