His Obsession, My Ruin

The Gala

Chapter 4

Melanie's POV

The ballroom shimmered with old money and curated charm—dimmed chandeliers, glinting glassware, and violins humming something elegant and forgettable in the background.

I stood near the center, heels planted, smiling on autopilot at another networking dinner with just enough personal touches to pretend it wasn’t business.

Idris leaned closer, voice low. “Remind me why we came again?”

“Because my father asked,” I muttered, tugging at the hem of my dress. “And because this place has better wine than our apartment.”

He chuckled under his breath, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Try to look like you’re having fun,” I said, fake-smiling as someone passed. “You’re scaring the donors.”

“They should be scared,” he said, eyes flicking across the ballroom like he was hunting something. “They’re lucky we even showed up.”

In truth, Idris made sure we showed up. He had to make appearances to reach “golden boy” status.

“Mel,” a voice called.

I searched around and spotted Charlotte headed our way.

Charlotte was… a friend. We’d met at an event like this, and, like me, children of people like my dad were expected to socialize, even though I couldn’t even place what family or influence Charlotte had. She just sort of popped up, but she was a decent person to me at least.

“Hey Charlotte, I didn’t think you’d be here,” I said.

“It was a last-minute thing, to be honest,” she said.

My eyes scanned her dress. Black.

Not little, not simple—black the way secrets are kept. Velvet maybe, or silk. Whatever it was, it drank the light and gave nothing back. It clung to her like the designer stitched it with ulterior motives. Slit high, neckline low, and not a single accessory to distract from the fact that she knew exactly how she looked in it.

I glanced down at my own gown. Wine-red, structured, elegant. The kind Dad’s tailor called “timeless.” Off-shoulder, floor-length, a quiet power move I’d carefully chosen. It looked good. It always did.

But suddenly, it felt… safe.

Charlotte didn’t do safe. She wore danger like perfume—long honey-blonde hair, eyes that looked a bit too cartoonish, and a welcoming smile.

“Hi, Idris,” she said.

Huh?

“You know each other?” I looked at Idris.

“Yeah, we met at the anniversary party,” he answered.

Oh.

She was at that too?

Don’t be insecure. Charlotte was born gorgeous, but that didn’t have to mean anything.

“Yeah, are you two together or something?” she asked innocently.

“Yeah, he’s my fiancé,” I answered a bit too proudly.

“Oh, that makes sense.” She grabbed a wine glass off a moving tray and waved. “See you later.”

I couldn’t wait to tell Aria I met Charlotte here. She wasn’t a fan of Charlotte either, even more than she wasn’t a fan of Idris—which was exactly why I couldn’t call Charlotte my friend.

Speaking of which…

My father’s voice cut through the noise like a spotlight.

“Melanie, I want you to meet someone,” Dad said, and gestured to someone behind me.

I mentally prepared myself for another night of uncomfortable pleasantries and sucking up from someone old enough to be my father's brother.

I turned my head, but I was way off. This man was nowhere near my father's age.

He walked past us and stood beside my father like he belonged there. Tall—definitely taller than Idris—with a blazer tailored so well I could practically hear it whispering numbers and power. Not flashy, just… clean.

His jawline was sharp, the kind people usually grow into with age, but he wore it like it had always been there. Short, neat hair, dark brown or black—I couldn’t tell under the lights. And those eyes… icy blue, unreadable, like he’d mastered the art of saying nothing without looking away.

I wasn’t impressed, just… curious.

“Jason, this is my daughter, Melanie,” Dad practically gloated.

I’d seen him proud of me, but something about the way he acted right now made it seem like I’d won a Nobel Prize or something.

Jason’s eyes locked with mine. His lips arched into a polite smile as he extended his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot of good things,” he said.

The shake was firm but polite. No overcompensating. No ego on display.

“Same here,” I returned, “even though I must admit I haven’t heard anything about you.”

“Oh, of course you have. He’s the new partner I told you about—the one it took months to convince,” Dad said.

They looked at each other like it was an inside joke, like they were buddies. Actually, my dad looked at him like he was his friend—and that didn’t even happen with his actual buddies. He looked… proud.

Yes, that was it. That glint I’d seen in his eyes only when he talked about me, Mum, or the company.

My eyes measured Jason the way I was trained to. Who exactly was this man? People usually tried too hard around my father. Jason didn’t.

“Jason’s going to be showing up more at the office. I figured you two should be introduced properly before then,” Dad explained.

Oh.

I noticed Jason’s eyes flicker to my side, and it hit me—Idris was standing right beside me.

“This is my fiancé, Idris,” I said and turned to Idris.

He wasn’t smiling. Actually, he was just at the border of having a full-blown scorn plastered on his face.

I gulped. s**t.