Chapter 8: High Heels and Hidden Daggers
Later that day, Bai Xueqing arrived at City A's most prestigious charity gala in a backless black velvet gown, her figure elegant and commanding. The grand ballroom was glittering with chandeliers and shallow conversations, a haven for socialites, business sharks, and those who wore smiles sharper than knives.
She wasn't there for the champagne.
She was there for clues.
According to Mo Chen's discreet investigation, one of the Bai Group's enemies was likely present at the event—someone with ties to the underworld, disguised behind a veneer of wealth.
"Remember to smile," Mo Chen murmured as he joined her side, dressed in an impeccably tailored tuxedo. "You're the beautiful heiress. I'm the dangerously charming escort."
"You sound proud of that," she whispered.
"I am. I even wore cologne."
Xueqing rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips.
They entered the room together, instantly drawing eyes. Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Is that the Bai heiress?"
"Who's the man with her? He looks… lethal."
"Rumor says she's back to clean house."
Xueqing held her head high. Let them talk. She wanted the rumor mill buzzing—it would smoke out the ones who feared her return.
As they navigated the party, Mo Chen's hand lightly brushed her lower back. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to make her heart skip.
"You're too close," she murmured, her voice tight.
"Am I?" he said innocently, leaning in closer. "Want me to back off or make it worse?"
She shot him a warning glare. "Behave."
Before he could retort, a familiar voice cut through the chatter.
"Well, if it isn't Bai Xueqing."
Qin Roulan. Her so-called childhood friend and professional backstabber, dressed in shimmering silver and a smile that could curdle milk.
"I didn't think you had the guts to show your face here," Qin Roulan purred, eyes narrowing.
Xueqing returned the smile sweetly. "I didn't think you had the gall to wear last season's dress."
Mo Chen nearly choked on his drink.
Qin Roulan's fake smile froze. "Still the same sharp tongue, I see."
"Don't worry. I only use it on those who deserve it," Xueqing said, her voice velvet-wrapped steel.
Roulan's eyes flicked to Mo Chen. "And who's your… date?"
"Her man," Mo Chen said smoothly, sliding a possessive arm around Xueqing's waist. "And her shadow."
The crowd around them shifted, clearly intrigued.
Roulan's smile twitched, but she excused herself with fake laughter and fled.
"You enjoyed that," Xueqing accused as she stepped away from his arm.
"I loved it," he admitted, grinning. "She's too easy to rattle."
As the gala continued, Mo Chen subtly pointed out three men near the back wall. "Those are the ones we suspect. Triad connections, all clean on paper. But I have someone following their transactions."
Xueqing sipped her wine, mind whirring. "Let's provoke them."
"You do love danger."
She smiled. "No. I love watching arrogant men get crushed under their own ambition."
---
Hours later, as they left the gala and stepped into the night air, Xueqing removed her heels with a groan. "Remind me why we wear these torture devices?"
"Because they make your legs look incredible," Mo Chen replied without hesitation.
She snorted, throwing a shoe at him. He caught it midair with a chuckle.
And for a moment, in the middle of secrets, threats, and revenge...
They laughed.
They lived.
And she remembered what it felt like to be a woman—not just a warrior.