The banquet was being held at Theodore Henderson's estate that evening.

Maxwell King had arrived to pick up Arianna Stone an hour early. The moment he laid eyes on her, his own heartbeat surged, a frantic rhythm he couldn't ignore.

Once the car pulled away, he turned his gaze to the window, acting as though his mind were elsewhere. But the dark glass acted as a mirror, reflecting her silhouette. Arianna was wearing the gown he had gifted her. Her shoulders were bare, her dark hair pinned up in a loose, elegant style. The form-fitting dress clung to her waist, highlighting a figure that was equal parts delicate and stunning.

She was hunched over her phone, her thick lashes lowered. Something she read made the corners of her mouth twitch into a soft smile. Maxwell felt his own lips curve upward in response, entirely involuntary.

When Arianna finally locked her screen and looked over at him, he forced his expression into a mask of indifference.

"Is there anything I should be careful about later?" she asked, her voice betraying a sliver of nerves.

Maxwell offered her a reassuring smile. "Nothing at all. Just treat it like we're out for a casual dinner. The more relaxed you are, the better."

Arianna nodded, appearing lost in thought.

Maxwell remembered something she had mentioned before. "You said you’d been to a banquet like this once before, right?"

"Hmm?"

"And it left you with some… unpleasant memories?" Maxwell’s tone was gentle, cautious.

Arianna paused, perhaps flashing back to that night. "A little." Then, she forced a laugh. "But it’s fine now. That’s all in the past."

A few months ago, Cameron Hughes had brought her to a similar event. It was Arianna’s first time in that kind of high-stakes social circle. There were heavy hitters and industry titans everywhere. When people approached her for small talk, she had felt like a deer in the headlights.

Meanwhile, Cameron had walked in, given her a few curt instructions, and immediately abandoned her to mingle with his own friends. He hadn't even sat near her during dinner, leaving her isolated at the opposite end of the table.

Throughout the night, a few women had approached her with predatory smiles, their words dripping with sarcasm and veiled insults. Arianna had been too naive to understand why they were targeting her, yet she’d done her best to hold her own. Only later did she realize they were part of Alexis Morgan’s inner circle—they had been sent to make her life miserable, though to this day, Arianna didn't know what she’d done to offend Alexis.

On the ride home that night, Cameron had leaned back in the car, eyes closed, ignoring her entirely. It wasn't until they were steps away from her house that he finally turned his head, surveying her with undisguised contempt.

"Why did you wear that?"

"What’s wrong with it?" Arianna hadn't understood. She’d spent her life savings on that dress after shopping with a friend, desperate to look presentable for him.

"Nothing," Cameron had snapped, turning away. "A lot of people said you looked like a total peasant. It was embarrassing."

Arianna had sat there, frozen.

Later, once he found out about the women giving her a hard time, he didn't defend her. Instead, he told her, "Look at the gap between our families. You’re going to get some heat for being with me, Arianna. Do you really have to be so combative? People are already coming to me to complain about you."

***

Maxwell watched her face. Given what he knew of Cameron’s personality, he could piece together the rest.

If only he had shown his hand sooner. If he’d been aggressive enough to claim her, to keep her by his side, she wouldn't have had to endure those petty, mindless slights. She wouldn't have to be so damn careful that she felt the need to ask for permission to wear a dress.

What had Cameron even been doing all these years? Exactly how long had he been gaslighting her?

The banquet was set in a three-story villa. The grand entrance was shielded by a lush bamboo forest. Beyond the ornate, carved corridors and a koi pond shimmering in the moonlight, the main hall spilled over with the sounds of clinking crystal, sycophantic laughter, and networking chatter.

Seeing the sea of unfamiliar, judgmental faces, Arianna felt the urge to retreat. But she wasn't alone. From the moment they stepped inside, Maxwell stayed glued to her side.

He was unusually chatty, keeping her engaged with a steady stream of conversation about her current job, university anecdotes, and even her high school years. It was so much information that Arianna had to exhaust her brainpower just to keep up, effectively drowning out the noise of the crowd.

By the time she finally came up for air, the night was nearly over. Arianna sat with Maxwell on her left and a cute, vibrant girl on her right.

The girl was nursing a piece of tiramisu, her slender fingers delicately maneuvering the spoon, occasionally sneaking curious glances at Arianna. When Arianna turned her head, their eyes locked.

The girl didn't look away in embarrassment. Instead, she offered a bright, genuine smile. "Hi. I'm April Turner. What’s your name?"

"Arianna Stone."

"Arianna," the girl whispered, her eyes crinkling. "You are absolutely gorgeous."

"Thank you. You’re stunning as well."

April felt like a total fangirl. She couldn't help it—she kept staring. Everything about the woman was elegant, from her face to the way she spoke. "I’m not just saying that. I actually noticed you a long time ago. You’re even prettier in person than you are in photos."

Arianna blinked. "What photos?"

"Wait, you don't know?" April pulled out her phone and candidly scrolled through a chat history. "After that banquet at the Henderson gala, our group chat was flooded with photos of you. Everyone was saying how beautiful you were and hoping to see you again, but you just… vanished."

Arianna listened, bewildered.

"It’s not an exaggeration to say at least ten guys were looking for a chance to approach you that night," April added, her voice dropping as she glanced around. "But Cameron Hughes kept blocking everyone. He said—"

April paused, casting a nervous look at Arianna before falling silent.

"What did he say?" Arianna asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Promise you won't get mad?"

Arianna gave a tight smile. "I won't."

"He told everyone you were some distant cousin of his from the sticks. Said you were shy and terrified of people, and warned them not to bother you."

Arianna: "..."

She was so furious she almost laughed.

April, worried she’d overstepped, rushed to clarify. "Don't take it the wrong way. Our circle isn't all about status—we hang out with whoever we click with. Plus…" April leaned in, studying her. "You don't look shy at all. You’re nothing like the pushover he described."

It was a cold, hard slap of reality. Now, Arianna truly grasped how spineless and pathetic Cameron really was. How had she been so blind?

April, oblivious to the internal storm, lazily rested her chin in her hand, beaming at Arianna. As the saying went, looking at a beautiful woman really did improve your mood. She scooted her chair closer, wanting to be nearer to her new favorite person.

She had barely moved an inch when she felt a freezing, piercing glare directed at her.

April froze, looking up. Maxwell King was staring at her, his face a mask of chilling indifference. He looked down at the chair now pressed against Arianna’s, his expression turning pitch-black.

He didn't say a word, just stared at her with deep, narrow eyes. It was a silent, lethal warning that carried an suffocating weight of authority.

April: "..."

She curled her lip and, with zero shred of dignity left, scooted her chair right back to where it had started.