Lian's fist froze in mid-air, knuckles white with restraint. The entire room seemed to go silent—guests halted their chatter, forks paused mid-bite, and music played like a distant echo in the background. Vivian stared at him, lips curled in cruel triumph, daring him to react.
But instead of throwing the punch, Lian slowly lowered his hand. His emerald eyes locked onto Vivian's with a cold, almost inhuman calm.
"I don't hit people," Lian said quietly, his voice razor-sharp, "especially not someone so desperate for relevance."
A soft gasp rippled through the room.
Vivian's smirk twitched, but she held her ground. "So now you're playing the martyr? How noble."
"No," Lian replied coolly. "I'm just not interested in dirtying my hands on someone who clearly lost before the game even started."
That hit her.
Vivian's cheeks flushed scarlet, but before she could retaliate, a commanding voice cut through the thick tension.
"Vivian," Cheng's voice was like a blade—low, dangerous, unmistakable.
The crowd parted as he walked through, his icy blue eyes burning holes through Vivian. He didn't look at anyone else—just her. Everyone knew, instinctively, not to move.
Vivian blinked, suddenly unsure. "Cheng—she—"
"I saw everything." His tone allowed no argument. "And I've warned you before about stepping out of line."
"But—"
He stepped closer, towering over her. "Apologize."
Vivian laughed nervously, a bitter edge to her voice. "To her? Are you serious?"
Cheng's expression didn't change. "Apologize. Or leave. Permanently."
Vivian's confidence fractured. She looked to Ava and Sophie, but they had already taken a cautious step back, unwilling to be pulled down with her. Her throat bobbed.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, eyes darting anywhere but Lian's.
"I didn't hear you," Lian said flatly, crossing his arms.
Vivian's jaw clenched. "I'm sorry, Mei."
Lian gave her a long look, then turned to Cheng. "I'd like to go now."
Cheng nodded, stepping beside him with that effortlessly possessive air.
As they walked away, whispers reignited in the crowd. Vivian stood frozen, shaking slightly, her pride shattered like glass on the ballroom floor.
Cheng'S PRIVATE VILLA
Lian stood stiffly near the fireplace, now draped in a robe Cheng had fetched for him. His ruined gown lay in a heap near the door. Cheng poured two glasses of dark wine, his jaw tight with unspoken thoughts.
"You handled her well," he said finally, handing Lian a glass.
"I didn't do it for praise," Lian muttered, taking a sip. "She's a dog chasing a bone she'll never get."
Cheng chuckled darkly. "That's a cruel thing to say."
"Not untrue though."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing slightly. "You always keep your cool. Even when humiliated."
Lian met his gaze. "Habit."
For a moment, they stood in silence, tension curling in the air—this time a different kind. Cheng's eyes trailed down Lian's bare shoulders peeking through the robe. Something about the night, about the firelight, made everything more…raw.
"You're not like anyone I've ever met," Cheng said, almost to himself.
Lian turned his head, watching the flames dance.
Silence stretched between them, thick with things unsaid.
Lian broke it first. "You didn't have to step in, you know."
Cheng didn't turn. "If I hadn't, you'd be behind bars for assault by now."
"I can handle her," Lian muttered.
"She threw wine at you, in front of everyone. That wasn't shade. That was a declaration of war."
Lian snorted softly. "Then let her come. I've faced worse."
That made Cheng look at him.
"I believe you," he said, walking over. "But you don't have to face anything alone anymore."
Lian blinked, eyes flicking to his.
You have no idea, he thought bitterly.
"I'm not some delicate little wife," Lian said, keeping his tone flat. "I didn't come here to be protected."
Cheng crouched down in front of him, hands resting on the couch on either side of Lian's legs. His voice dropped low, intimate. "Good. I don't want a porcelain doll. I want a queen. Sharp, dangerous, and mine."
The words sent a jolt through Lian's stomach, but he masked it with a slow breath.
He tilted his chin. "You really think you can claim someone like that?"
Cheng's lips curved. "I don't think. I know."
Lian's fingers tightened around his glass. His heart was hammering—part anger, part something far more dangerous.
Desire.
No. This couldn't happen. He couldn't fall. Not when everything he was offering was a lie.
"I'm not yours," Lian whispered, barely audible.
Cheng's eyes darkened. "Yet."
He stood, slowly, brushing his fingers along Lian's jaw with casual confidence, then stepped away to pour himself another drink.
Lian let out a slow exhale the moment his back was turned.
"who was she by the way"
Lian asked but got no reply.
...…. THE HERNANDEZ VILLA...…..
Vivian sat in a side lounge, legs crossed, eyes blankly watching the room. Her fingers drummed against her glass of champagne—untouched.
Ava and Sophie were trying to act normal, but the air around Vivian was radioactive. Ava finally spoke up.
"She really made you look bad, Viv."
"Ofcourse that nitch did," Vivian snapped
Sophie cleared her throat. "We can still fix this."
Vivian turned her head slowly toward them. "Fix this?" Her voice was syrupy sweet and toxic. "That bitch humiliated me in front of everyone. She stole my moment. Again."
"She's just Cheng's flavor of the month," Ava offered. "It won't last."
Vivian shook her head slowly. "No. This one's different. She's got something... weird about her. Like she's hiding something."
"You think she's not who she says she is?" Sophie asked.
Vivian gave a small, wicked smile. "Exactly. No one's that perfect. No history, no reasoable background, no fucking Instagram nothing, before Cheng, barely any social events—and suddenly she's this polished little debutante?"
"She came out of nowhere," Ava murmured.
Vivian's gaze sharpened. "Then I'm going to find out where 'nowhere' is. And when I do?" She raised her glass in mock toast. "She's going to wish she drowned in that wine I threw."
"She thinks this is over," she muttered to herself. "She thinks Cheng will protect her forever."