[ I Fell In Love With My Own Daughter ]

The Fierce Kiss

Chapter 6: The Price of a Smile

The morning sun through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Stone Corporation was blinding, but it couldn't compare to the weight of the black-and-gold invitation sitting on Luvia’s desk. The "Solstice Gala" was the event of the year—a gathering of sharks, billionaires, and the elite. Usually, Luvia went alone, a solitary predator in a silk gown. But this year, the "overthinker" had already made a decision before the sun had even risen.

"Eliza," Luvia said, her voice steady but carrying a hint of something softer. She reached into her desk and pulled out a sleek, black titanium credit card—one with no limit and no questions asked. "The gala is tonight. You are coming with me. Not as a shadow, but as my guest. This card is for your preparations. Buy the most expensive dress you can find. Hire the best stylists. I want the world to see the woman who keeps my empire running."

Eliza hesitated, her eyes wide. "Luvia, this is too much. I can’t—"

"It’s an order, Eliza," Luvia interrupted, though her eyes were smiling.

As Eliza stepped out of the office, still dazed, she ran into Ron in the hallway. He looked at the black card in her hand and grinned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick envelope of cash. "And this," Ron said, handing it to her, "is from the 'Luvia-is-actually-human-again' fund. Consider it a bonus for the miracle you’ve worked on the boss. Go spoil yourself, Eliza. You’ve earned it."

The Dream of the Working Girl

The apartment Eliza shared with Teliny was small, smelling of cheap coffee and the lingering scent of laundry detergent. It was a place for survivors, for women who counted every cent. When Eliza walked in and dumped the black card and the envelope of cash onto the scarred wooden table, Teliny nearly dropped her mug.

"Eliza Stone!" Teliny gasped, her eyes bulging. "Is that... is that real? We haven't even touched the advance money Luvia gave you for the apartment! Why do you have more? Did you rob the bank you work for?"

Eliza laughed, a bright, melodic sound. "No, Teliny! Luvia wants me to go to the gala. And Ron gave me a bonus. Teliny... we aren't just buying a dress. We’re going shopping. Real shopping."

Teliny looked at the money, then at her friend. The shock turned into a slow, mischievous grin.

"Call the others," Eliza said, her heart racing. "Call Sarah, Mina, and Jo. All of them. They’ve been working sixteen-hour shifts at the factory and the retail shops. Tell them today is the day. No price tags. No worrying about the rent. We are going to shop like the women we see on the billboards."

The afternoon was a whirlwind of silk, lace, and laughter. Eliza, Teliny, and their circle of hardworking friends descended upon the city’s most elite boutique district. These were women who usually stood on the outside of the glass, looking in. Now, they walked through the front doors.

"I can't believe I'm holding this," one of the friends whispered, clutching a handbag that cost more than her yearly salary.

"Don't just hold it, buy it!" Eliza encouraged, her eyes shining. She watched as her friends, women who had callouses on their hands and exhaustion in their eyes, began to transform. They tried on dresses that shimmered like starlight and shoes that felt like clouds.

For Eliza, it wasn't about the luxury. It was about the freedom. It was the dream they had all shared in their crowded dorms and cheap apartments—the dream of a day where money didn't exist. As she chose a gown of deep emerald silk that complemented the "Stone" name she now carried, she felt a surge of gratitude for Luvia. Luvia hadn't just given her money; she had given her the power to change her friends' lives, even for just a few hours.

The Gala: A Predator’s Jealousy

When evening fell, the Solstice Gala was a sea of flashing cameras and expensive perfumes. When Luvia Stone arrived, the room went quiet. She was a vision in midnight black, her sharp features highlighted by diamond earrings that looked like ice. But the real shock was the woman on her arm.

Eliza Stone was breathtaking. The emerald dress clung to her curves, and her hair was pinned back in a way that exposed the elegant line of her neck. She looked like a queen, but she moved with the warmth of a girl who still remembered the taste of home-cooked food.

As they entered the ballroom, the "sharks" began to circle.

"Ms. Stone," a young, wealthy heir approached, his eyes locked on Eliza. "Who is this stunning creature? Might I have the honor of a dance?"

Luvia’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly on Eliza’s arm. "She is my secretary," Luvia said, her voice cold enough to frost the champagne glasses. "And she is here to work. She doesn't have time for your amateur footwork."

The man retreated, confused. But the invitations didn't stop. Throughout the night, men and women alike tried to pull Eliza away. They were drawn to her—not just her beauty, but her light. Unlike the cold, calculating elite in the room, Eliza smiled at everyone. She spoke to the waiters with the same kindness she showed the ambassadors. She laughed at jokes and listened with genuine interest.

Luvia watched from the shadows, a glass of scotch in her hand. Her "overthinker" brain was in overdrive, but it wasn't calculating stock prices. It was calculating the way every man in the room looked at Eliza.

Why is she smiling at him? Luvia thought, her grip on the glass tightening. She gave him the same look she gave me this morning. That smile... that’s mine. I’m the one who took her out of the shadows. I’m the one who gave her the world. Why does he get to see that light?

The jealousy was a physical thing—a hot, pulsing knot in Luvia’s stomach. She had never felt out of control, but seeing Eliza belong to the "world" instead of just to her was driving her toward a breaking point.

"Luvia? Are you okay?" Eliza appeared by her side, her face glowing with the excitement of the night. "This is incredible! Everyone is so nice, and the music—"

"Dance with me," Luvia commanded.

They stepped onto the floor. As they moved, the world seemed to vanish. Luvia held Eliza closer than was professional, her hand resting firmly on the small of Eliza’s back. For a moment, the tension eased as they swayed together, their eyes locked.

But then, a diplomat tapped Eliza on the shoulder, asking for the next dance. Eliza turned, giving him that same sweet, radiant smile. "Oh, I would love—"

Something snapped in Luvia.

The "overthinker" stopped thinking. The strategist stopped planning. The predator took over.

"Excuse us," Luvia said, her voice low and dangerous. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed Eliza’s wrist and began pulling her through the crowd.

"Luvia? What’s wrong? Where are we going?" Eliza stumbled behind her, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere.

Luvia didn't answer. She moved with a terrifying purpose, navigating the hallways of the grand estate until she found a door marked VIP—Private. She kicked it open, pulled Eliza inside, and slammed the door shut, the heavy lock clicking into place with a sound like a gunshot.

The VIP Room

The room was dim, lit only by the distant glow of the city lights through a circular window. The muffled sound of the orchestra was the only thing connecting them to the world outside.

"Luvia, you’re hurting my wrist," Eliza whispered, her heart pounding in her ears.

Luvia turned. Her eyes were dark, swirling with a possessive fire that Eliza had never seen before. The "brilliant businesswoman" was gone; in her place was a woman driven by a raw, desperate hunger.

"That smile," Luvia hissed, stepping into Eliza’s space until Eliza was backed against the cold mahogany of the door. "You give it to everyone. You give it to the managers, you give it to the heirs, you give it to the waiters."

"I... I’m just being kind, Luvia. What are you—"

"I don't want you to be kind to them," Luvia growled, her voice breaking. "I want you to be mine. I don't want them to see your light. I don't want them to think they have a chance to touch what belongs to me."

"Luvia, I don't belong to—"

Luvia didn't let her finish. She leaned in, her hands framing Eliza’s face, and kissed her.

It wasn't a soft kiss. It wasn't the kind of kiss Eliza had dreamed about in her apartment. It was aggressive, desperate, and filled with a possessive fury. It was the kiss of a woman who had spent her whole life calculating and was now finally, violently, feeling something she couldn't control.

Eliza gasped against Luvia’s lips, her hands flying up to Luvia’s shoulders. She was shocked, her mind reeling. The world was spinning—the emerald dress, the black card, the jealous managers, and now this. The fire in Luvia’s kiss was overwhelming, a mixture of love, fear, and a deep, aching need.

For the first time in her life, the secretary didn't know how to react. She didn't know if she should push away or pull closer. She only knew that the "Stone" she had come to know was breaking, and she was the only thing catching the pieces.

Outside, the gala continued, the music playing for a crowd that had no idea that behind a locked door, the Queen of the Stone Corporation had finally surrendered to her heart.