Chapter 37 – Stolen Glances & Runway Confessions

Westward Plaza was unrecognizable.

The new Celeste flagship store had been transformed into a sanctuary of glamour and grace. A translucent canopy covered the open-air courtyard, bathed in a soft glow of fairy lights. Sleek, cascading floral installations framed the runway, while models prepped backstage, the hum of excitement rising with each minute.

Liyana stood near the entrance in a midnight-blue velvet gown, a custom piece from Celeste's new line—Midnight Bloom. Her hair was swept into a low bun, soft tendrils framing her face. She radiated effortless power.

Beside her stood Mira, clipboard in hand and phone constantly buzzing.

"Everything's running smoothly. Even the press is behaving," Mira noted before nudging Liyana gently. "You look stunning, by the way."

Liyana offered a rare smile. "Thank you, Mira."

"And—" Mira glanced toward the main entrance, where a sleek black car just pulled up. "Your date is here."

The crowd seemed to hush as Damien stepped out of the car.

He wore a fitted black tux with a deep navy undertone, his presence like gravity—silent but impossible to ignore. Guests turned. Cameras clicked. Even the models paused.

He moved through the crowd with quiet confidence until his gaze landed on Liyana—and didn't stray.

"You clean up well," she teased softly.

Damien offered a smirk. "You're not so bad yourself, CEO Xu."

As the runway lights dimmed, soft music floated through the venue. One by one, models strutted down the sleek white runway, showcasing Celeste's latest collection—a fusion of classic silhouettes and modern artistry. Embellished capes, sharp tailoring, embroidered velvets, and bold, structured gowns took center stage.

Liyana sat front row, her name etched in gold on the guest card. Damien sat beside her, watching her more than the models.

"She's built an empire," he thought to himself. "And she's just getting started."

When the final model walked out in a shimmering moonlight-inspired gown, the crowd erupted into applause.

Liyana stood and offered a deep, composed bow.

A queen acknowledging her court.

Backstage, as the models dispersed and team members coordinated post-show logistics, Ruoxi adjusted her earpiece and jotted last-minute notes.

"Still bossy, aren't you?" came a dry, teasing voice from behind.

Ruoxi froze. That voice.

She turned slowly to face Zhen, Damien's ever-so-composed secretary, now out of his usual suit and shockingly... charming in a relaxed black blazer.

"You?!" she narrowed her eyes. "Why are you always where I least expect you?"

"Destiny," Zhen replied without missing a beat. "Or punishment. Hard to say."

Ruoxi rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the twitch of her lips. "Still working for Damien? You used to hate rich bosses."

"And you used to say you'd never return to corporate life." He stepped closer. "Yet here we are."

They shared a long stare.

Ruoxi looked away first, flustered.

"Drinks later?" Zhen asked casually.

She arched a brow. "I don't date men who ghosted me during law school."

Zhen smirked. "I don't date women who once poured wine on my thesis papers."

She blinked. "…That was one time."

"Then maybe we can call it even?"

Ruoxi scoffed—but didn't say no.

The courtyard was transformed once again. Round tables shimmered with silverware and champagne flutes. Jazz music played softly in the background.

Damien stood by the bar, watching Liyana speak with senior investors and designers, her hands animated as she described upcoming collaborations.

"She belongs here," he thought. "And somehow... so do I."

As the band began a romantic tune, Damien approached her.

"May I steal a moment?" he asked, extending his hand.

Liyana blinked. "Now?"

"Now," he said softly.

She hesitated only for a heartbeat before taking his hand.

He led her to the center of the courtyard, where the light dimmed just slightly. The spotlight found them naturally.

His hand slid to her waist; her fingers rested on his shoulder.

They danced.

Slow. Subtle. Each step drawing them closer. The crowd faded away.

"You're the most dangerous man I know," she murmured against his shoulder.

"And you're the only one I'd lose everything for," he replied.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, a silent language only they could speak.

Cameras flashed around them—but they didn't notice.

In that moment, they weren't rivals.

They weren't CEOs.

They were simply Liyana and Damien.

Two hearts that once clashed, now finally beginning to beat in harmony.