A Familiar Face in a Foreign Night

That night, Grace sat stiffly at the dinner table, hands curled into tight fists on her lap as her father's voice cut through the silence.

"There's a party tomorrow," Robert said, not bothering to look up from his glass of wine. "Cassian Lawrent will be there. Be presentable. The event starts at 7 sharp. I'll be there early for a meeting with his father—the party begins right after that."

Grace nodded quietly and rose from the table. Her legs moved on their own, carrying her up the stairs to her room, but with every step, her chest grew tighter. The name Cassian Lawrent echoed inside her head like a curse. Her fingers trembled as she shut the door behind her.

She barely made it to the bed before the panic began to claw up her throat. Her breathing grew erratic. Her heart slammed against her ribs, and her vision blurred with tears she couldn't control.

No. I can't… I can't be in the same room with him.

Her hands fumbled through the drawer, pushing aside lipsticks, jewelry, anything—there—her medication. With shaking fingers, she popped the pill under her tongue, then lay still on the bed, waiting for her lungs to remember how to breathe.

The next evening, the car pulled up in front of the grand estate, ablaze with lights and teeming with extravagance. Grace sat frozen in the backseat, dressed in a stunning off-shoulder gown of soft pink, her hair neatly tied, her earrings glittering like frozen tears. She looked breathtaking, ethereal even—but her nerves crackled beneath the silk.

She was late.

Her father would be furious.

Without waiting for the valet, she stepped out herself and rushed toward the stairs leading to the entrance. Her heels clicked rapidly against the stone. But on the fifth step—snap—her right heel twisted violently, the strap giving way. She lost her balance, her body lurching forward as she braced for the fall.

But she didn't hit the ground.

Instead, strong hands wrapped firmly around her waist, steadying her, holding her close. Her palms pressed against a chest—solid, warm—and when she opened her eyes, she was staring into the eyes of Aries.

Time stopped.

The chaos, the music, the murmurs of the guests—all of it faded into silence. Only his eyes remained, deep and still like twilight, watching her with something dangerously gentle.

Aries swallowed as he looked at her—no, through her—as if seeing a version of Grace that the world never would. He slowly ascended the remaining steps, their bodies instinctively pulling closer until the gap between them was nearly nonexistent.

Without a word, he knelt down before her, his movements reverent. With the kind of delicacy usually reserved for sacred things, he took her heel and gently slipped it back onto her foot, his touch featherlight.

"You okay?" he asked softly, still crouched like she was something he had to protect even from the ground itself.

Grace smiled, breathless. "Yeah… I'm totally fine. More so after seeing you. A familiar face."

That smile—it melted something in him. He looked away for half a second, lips curling into a bashful smile of his own. It was shy, beautiful, and utterly unguarded.

She turned toward the stairs again, but before she could take a step—

"I'll carry you."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, no—Aries, there are people—"

"You might be fine…" he interrupted, lifting her easily into his arms. "But I'm not. To you, it's just your foot that's hurt. But to me… it's my heart."

The last word was whispered so softly that she didn't catch it. But he did. He felt every letter of it settle in his chest like a vow.

Inside the elevator, she rested her head against his shoulder for a moment, her body finally relaxing.

"Will you be at the party?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. Bodyguards aren't allowed inside the premium venue. I'll be outside."

Her smile faded. "I see…"

He noticed. "What's wrong?"

She hesitated, then looked up at him. "My father… he's forcing me to be here. He wants me to meet Cassian Lawrent tonight."

Aries' entire body tensed. His jaw locked, and veins popped along his neck as his hand curled tightly.

The elevator doors opened.

As she stepped out and walked toward the golden doors of the premium venue, something tugged at her hand. She turned.

Aries was holding her wrist.

"Don't worry," he said, voice low, eyes burning. "I'll be right here. If you need anything, just call me. I'll come to you. Always."

And then, without waiting for permission, he gently lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of her palm, his head bowing slightly as if worshipping the ground she walked on.

Grace's eyes shimmered. Her lips parted as if to speak, but she said nothing. She only smiled—and then walked into the lion's den with a little more courage.

As the doors closed behind her, Aries reached into his jacket and pulled out his earpiece.

"Is everything ready?" he asked, voice sharp. "You can't mess this up."