Chapter 15: The Price of Power

The air inside the VIP dining room felt heavier than before. The warmth of golden lights, the soft clinking of utensils, and even the luxurious ambiance—none of it mattered anymore.

Liyana gripped her wine glass tighter, her fingers pressing against the smooth crystal as she forced herself to focus on her meal. But the food on her plate had lost its taste.

Across the table, Damien was still on the phone, his deep voice steady, casual. "Ruoxi."

Liyana tried not to listen. She tried to keep her eyes on her plate, to ignore the name that suddenly felt like a splinter in her chest. But no matter how much she willed herself to remain unaffected, her mind replayed memories she wished she had buried.

"She's just an old family friend."

Damien had said that once. Years ago. When Ruoxi asked him about her.

It shouldn't have mattered. Liyana wasn't someone who dwelled on the past—especially not over a man. But right now, the bitter sting of that answer returned, creeping into the corners of her thoughts.

Wasn't that what she wanted? To keep things simple between them? To ensure their relationship remained a battlefield of power, not something sentimental?

So why did it irritate her now?

She took another sip of wine, but the bitterness in her throat had nothing to do with the alcohol.

Across from her, Damien leaned back in his chair, one hand resting on the table as he listened to Ruoxi speak. His expression remained unreadable, his eyes sharp, but his voice held a subtle ease—one he never used with her.

Liyana hated it.

She hated how effortless it seemed for him.

How she suddenly felt like an outsider in the presence of a name.

"I'll call you back later," Damien finally said, ending the conversation swiftly.

The moment his phone screen dimmed, silence settled between them.

Liyana refused to look up.

A beat passed.

Then—

"Are you upset about something, Mei-Mei?" Damien's voice was smooth, teasing, yet there was a dangerous undercurrent beneath it.

Liyana inhaled sharply at the nickname. She placed her glass down with a calmness she didn't feel and finally met his gaze.

"Why would I be?" Her voice was light, indifferent. "Your calls are none of my concern."

Damien studied her. The air between them shifted.

His fingers tapped against the table once. Twice. Then—he smirked.

"Liyana," he said, leaning in slightly, his voice lowering just enough to send a shiver down her spine. "You're gripping that fork like you want to stab someone."

Liyana's hold loosened instantly.

Damn him.

Damn how well he could read her.

She forced a slow breath, schooling her expression into one of pure indifference. "I was just thinking about work," she lied smoothly. "Unlike you, I don't have the luxury to sit around taking personal calls during a business dinner."

Damien chuckled. "You always resort to work when you're avoiding something."

"I'm not avoiding anything," she replied coolly.

His gaze darkened, amusement flickering with something else—something possessive.

"Good," he murmured. "Because if you were jealous, Mei-Mei, I'd be very interested in knowing why."

Liyana's breath hitched.

Jealous?

As if she'd ever—

Her phone suddenly buzzed against the table, cutting through the tension.

Liyana seized the opportunity to break eye contact, glancing at the caller ID.

Mira

Her secretary.

Thank god.

She picked up immediately. "Yes?"

Mira's voice came through, urgent yet professional. "Miss Xu, we have a situation."

Liyana straightened. "What happened?"

Damien's gaze sharpened at her shift in tone.

Mira hesitated before saying, "Reporter Zhang just released an article about your engagement with Mr. Lu."

Liyana froze.

A slow, sharp silence filled the space.

Then—Damien exhaled a low, amused hum.

"Well," he murmured, picking up his wine glass with ease, swirling the liquid lazily. "Isn't that interesting?"

Liyana's grip on her phone tightened.

Her gaze snapped up to Damien, who was watching her like a predator who had just cornered his prey.

This night was far from over.

"Marriage is a sacred bond, Liyana. Not a business transaction. If you ever choose to marry, it should be for the right reasons, not for power or convenience. I would be disappointed if you used something so sacred as a mere tool."

Her grandfather's voice echoed in her mind, steady and full of quiet wisdom.

Liyana had spent her life making decisions based on logic, strategy, and ambition. She never allowed emotions to dictate her path. And yet…

The thought of her engagement being reduced to a headline—another calculated move in the corporate world—left an uneasy feeling in her chest.

She set her phone down, lifting her gaze to Damien. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes were sharp, assessing.

"I see no reason to deny it," she finally said, her voice cool and even. "But I also see no reason to confirm it."

Damien exhaled a quiet chuckle, swirling the wine in his glass before taking a slow sip. "How diplomatic of you."

She ignored the teasing lilt in his voice. "It's a rumor, nothing more. The media will speculate, but we don't have to entertain them."

"And if I want to?" Damien tilted his head slightly. "What if I don't mind them knowing?"

Liyana's fingers curled against her palm.

"Then that would be your problem, not mine."

The amusement in Damien's gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering behind his sharp eyes. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make the space between them feel smaller.

"You're afraid of what they'll say?"

Liyana held his gaze, refusing to be baited. "I don't fear anything, Damien."

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. "Then why does this bother you?"

She clenched her jaw. He was too good at reading her, too good at pushing past the walls she had spent years building.

But she refused to falter.

"This dinner is over," she said abruptly, placing her napkin on the table. She stood up, smoothing the nonexistent creases from her dress.

Damien didn't stop her. He merely watched as she grabbed her clutch and turned toward the exit.

Just as she reached the door, his voice reached her, low and deliberate.

"Don't run from this, Mei-Mei."

She paused for a fraction of a second—just long enough for the words to settle

Liyana inhaled sharply, her fingers tightening around her clutch. A part of her wanted to ignore him, to walk out and pretend his words didn't affect her. But they did.

She turned back slowly, meeting his gaze head-on. Damien was still seated, his posture relaxed, but there was nothing casual about the way he watched her.

The weight of her grandfather's words pressed against her chest, but so did the reality of the situation. The media had already started the speculation. If they denied it, the rumors would only grow wilder. If they confirmed it, they could control the narrative.

Liyana hated the idea of being forced into anything, but she hated losing control even more.

She took a step closer, her voice steady. "Okay. Let's do it."

Damien raised an eyebrow, but his smirk was slow, deliberate. "Do what, Mei-Mei?"

She didn't let him bait her this time. "Let's go public."

For a moment, there was silence. Then—

Damien set his glass down and stood up, closing the distance between them. His presence was overwhelming, his gaze sharp, assessing.

"Are you sure?" His voice was lower now, quieter, but it held the weight of something deeper.

Liyana met his gaze, unwavering. "I don't go back on my word."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes before he smirked. "Then let's make sure we do it right."

Liyana exhaled slowly.

This game had just taken a new turn. And she was stepping into it with full awareness of what it meant.

Damien's smirk deepened as he studied her, as if he was savoring the moment. Then, without warning, he leaned in—too close, too fast.

Before Liyana could react, he dipped his head and pressed a fleeting kiss to her cheek. A barely-there touch, warm and teasing.

Her breath hitched.

She took an instinctive step back, the cool air replacing the heat of his proximity.

Damien tilted his head, watching her with open amusement. "Flustered, Mei-Mei?"

Liyana's fingers curled around her clutch, willing herself to regain composure. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're adorable when you're caught off guard." His voice was smug, satisfied.

She exhaled sharply, narrowing her eyes. "If we're doing this, Damien, let's set one rule right now—no unnecessary touching."

Damien's smirk didn't falter. If anything, it grew more dangerous.

"Define 'unnecessary,'" he murmured.

Liyana turned on her heel, deciding she wouldn't entertain that question. "I'll see you tomorrow. We have a public appearance to plan."

She strode toward the exit, her heart betraying her by pounding a little too hard.

Behind her, Damien chuckled, his voice carrying through the air. "Sweet dreams, Mei-Mei."

Liyana didn't give him the satisfaction of a response.