Chapter 12 First Appearances
1246 Words
The first thing I noticed when we stepped into the ballroom was that everyone already knew who Adrian Vale was.
Not in the obvious way. Nobody shouted his name or rushed toward him like some celebrity. These people were too polished for that. Too trained. Too proud.
But conversations slowed. Heads turned. Eyes followed.
Because Adrian Vale did not need introductions.
He was the CEO of Vale Global Holdings, a company whose name was attached to hotels, property developments, private investments, and enough wealth to make governments polite. The financial press called him ruthless, brilliant, untouchable.
And tonight, every person in the room had noticed he had arrived with me.
My heels clicked against the marble floor as I kept pace beside him, trying to ignore the nerves tightening in my stomach. Crystal chandeliers burned overhead like captured stars. Champagne glasses glimmered in manicured hands. Women wore gowns that probably cost more than my old rent for six months. Men stood in tailored suits discussing money as if they personally invented it.
I did not belong here.
That thought came sharp and immediate.
Then Adrian’s hand settled lightly against the base of my back, guiding me forward.
And somehow, I straightened.
“Relax,” he said quietly.
“I am relaxed.”
“No,” he replied smoothly. “You are trying to look relaxed.”
I glanced at him. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”
“What?”
“Watching me suffer.”
A faint smirk touched his mouth. “If I wanted you to suffer, Miss Carter, I would have seated you beside the charity board.”
I nearly laughed despite myself.
That annoyed me more than it should have.
We moved deeper into the room and people began approaching almost immediately. Men greeted Adrian with firm handshakes and careful smiles. Women kissed the air near his cheek and lingered just a second too long. Every single one of them looked at me with some version of the same question.
Who is she?
“Adrian, good to see you,” an older man said warmly. “You’ve been impossible to reach.”
“That usually means I do not wish to be reached,” Adrian replied.
The man laughed, then turned to me. “And this is?”
“Luna.”
That was all Adrian said.
Just Luna.
No explanation. No label. No apology.
The man smiled politely, though curiosity flashed in his eyes. “A pleasure.”
He moved on.
I waited until he was gone. “That’s it?”
Adrian glanced at me. “That’s what?”
“You just say my name and let them wonder?”
“Yes.”
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
A statuesque blonde in emerald silk approached next. She was beautiful in a polished, expensive way that suggested maintenance teams and zero carbohydrates.
“Adrian,” she said, touching his arm like she had done it before. “You never mentioned bringing company.”
“I was unaware I needed permission, Vanessa.”
Her smile thinned slightly. Her gaze travelled over me from head to toe, weighing every detail. Dress. Hair. Shoes. Worth.
“And this is?”
“Luna.”
Again, just Luna.
She gave me a smile dipped in venom. “How mysterious.”
Then she drifted away.
I exhaled slowly. “Do all the women here hate me already?”
“They don’t hate you.”
“She looked ready to poison my drink.”
“They’re curious.”
“That felt personal.”
Adrian’s mouth curved faintly. “That’s because you’re with me.”
I stared at him. “You say that like it’s a privilege.”
“It is.”
The arrogance of this man deserved prison time.
We reached our table near the front of the ballroom. My place card sat directly beside Adrian’s, of course. Waiters appeared almost instantly with champagne.
I accepted a glass.
“You drink when nervous?” he asked.
“I drink when trapped.”
He lifted his own glass. “Comforting.”
Dinner began with speeches and applause. Charity figures were announced. Donations praised. Smiling people congratulated one another for generosity that likely came with tax benefits.
Yet beneath it all, I could feel eyes returning to our table again and again.
To me.
To us.
Adrian remained perfectly calm through every second of it. He spoke when spoken to. Nodded when necessary. Shut people down with one glance when they became boring.
And somehow, he noticed everything.
When my glass emptied, another appeared.
When I reached for the wrong fork, he quietly slid the correct one nearer my hand without a word.
When a man at the next table stared too long, Adrian looked at him once and the man suddenly became fascinated by his bread roll.
Tiny things.
Quiet things.
Things that should not have mattered.
But they did.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Adrian asked softly.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m trying to understand you.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
He smiled then. A real one this time. Brief, sharp, devastating.
The auction portion of the evening began after dessert. Trips, jewellery, paintings, and absurd luxury experiences were bid on for eye-watering sums. Adrian barely looked interested until a private villa in Lake Como came up.
“Five hundred thousand,” someone called.
“Six hundred,” Adrian said lazily.
Several heads turned.
The auctioneer brightened instantly. “Six hundred thousand from Mr Vale.”
Another bidder hesitated. Adrian did not even look at him.
“Sold!”
Applause followed.
I stared. “Did you just spend six hundred thousand pounds because you were bored?”
He sipped his drink. “It goes to charity.”
“That was not my question.”
His eyes moved to mine. “No, Miss Carter. I bought it because I dislike losing.”
I believed him immediately.
Music swelled as the tables were cleared for dancing. Couples moved toward the floor in elegant clusters.
“I don’t dance,” I said quickly.
“You do tonight.”
“That sounded less like an invitation.”
“It was not one.”
Before I could argue, he stood and held out his hand. The room seemed to notice. Again.
I placed my hand in his because refusing would cause a scene, and because some reckless part of me wanted to know what it felt like to step into his world fully.
He led me onto the dance floor and drew me close enough that I felt the heat of him through the fabric of my dress. One hand at my waist. One holding mine.
“You’re staring again,” he murmured.
“I’m trying to work out if you’re human.”
“And your conclusion?”
“Pending.”
His thumb brushed once against my waist, barely there. My pulse betrayed me instantly.
Around us, people watched discreetly. Whispered discreetly. Judged discreetly.
But they watched.
“Why me?” I asked before I could stop myself.
He looked down at me for a long moment.
“Because,” he said quietly, “you are the only woman in this room who hasn’t tried to impress me.”
The music slowed. My heart did not.
He leaned nearer, his mouth close to my ear.
“Tonight,” he murmured, “they learn your name.”
- Writer
