When two worlds collide.

The rooftop of Velaris Hotel was a vision of luxury. Fairy lights criss crossed above, casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The elite of Montelucia moved in effortless elegance, men in custom-tailored tuxedos, women in designer gowns that shimmered like water under the moonlight. Laughter and champagne flowed freely, the night pulsing with soft jazz and whispers of deals and desire.

Pearl Grey stood near the bar, clutching a flute of champagne she hadn't touched. The sleek emerald dress Aria had picked for her hugged her curves, showing off more skin than she was used to. She shifted uncomfortably, tugging the hem every few minutes and eyeing the crowd like she didn't belong.

"This dress feels like it was stitched onto my body," she murmured.

Aria Bennet, radiant in a custom scarlet gown of her own design, rolled her eyes. "It's Versace, not a straitjacket. Own it, babe. And stop fidgeting, you look hot."

Pearl tugged at the hem of her dress. "This feels… like a mistake."

Aria rolled her eyes playfully. "No, what would've been a mistake is staying home and crying over a man who didn't even have the decency to send a closure text. Tonight, we're living. You're glowing. Trust me."

Pearl looked around the room. "Still feels like another world."

"It is. And you deserve to taste it. Come on, P. Flirt with someone. Make a contact. Drink something stronger than water. Or at least pretend you're not thinking about your ex every five seconds."

Pearl smiled softly, but her eyes scanned the crowd nervously.

Just then, there was a subtle shift in the energy of the room. Heads turned, whispers spread, and the atmosphere thickened with awe.

Aria leaned toward Pearl with a conspiratorial whisper, "Guess who just arrived?"

Pearl raised a brow. "Who?"

"Richard. Freaking. Harrison."

Pearl's eyes widened.

"The most eligible bachelor in all of Montelucia," Aria continued. "Richer than god, hotter than sin, and apparently colder than a glacier.

Pearl turned slightly, her gaze landing on the tall figure who had just entered. Even from across the room, Richard Harrison commanded attention, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his expression unreadable, his stride confident. Cameras didn't dare flash too close, but his presence was like a force field.

Pearl looked away quickly, her heart beating faster for reasons she didn't understand. "He doesn't look like someone who enjoys parties."

"He doesn't," Aria grinned. "Rumor is, he only came because of some business thing and to keep up public appearances. But hey, this is your shot, P. Go talk to someone. Anyone. Just don't stand like a statue all night."

Alright I will give it a try, pearl said lightly.

"That's my girl." 

As Aria disappeared into the crowd to greet a familiar face, Pearl lingered at the edge, sipping her drink slowly until she finished it.

"First time at a rooftop gala?" a smooth voice asked beside her.

She turned to find a man—dark-haired, probably in his thirties, with a kind smile and mischievous eyes. He extended a hand. "Lucas Hayes. Art curator. And you are?"

"Pearl Grey," she replied, shaking his hand.

"Pearl," he repeated, tasting the name. "Classic. I like it. And may I say, you look like a goddess who just descended from a fashion Olympus."

Pearl laughed despite herself. "Flattery isn't dead after all."

"Only on Tuesdays," he grinned. "So what brings you here? You don't seem like one of the usual faces."

"I'm a writer. Freelance. My best friend dragged me here. Said I needed to 'see how the elite taste champagne.'"

Lucas chuckled. "Good friend. Sounds like you needed it."

"Well, I'd say you're fitting in just fine," he said, lifting two glasses of something amber from a passing waiter's tray. He offered one to her.

Pearl hesitated, but took the glass.

The liquid glinted under the rooftop lights. She took a careful sip and immediately winced. "God, that's strong."

Lucas laughed. "It's called Liquid Gold. Exclusive to Velaris. They say it either makes your night or ends it early."

Pearl gave him a skeptical look. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

He raised his hands in mock innocence. "Just trying to help you loosen up. You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."

She sighed, letting her gaze drift over the crowd. "Maybe I do."

He leaned against the railing beside her. "Then tonight, forget about it. Let Montelucia work its magic on you."

Pearl chuckled softly, the warmth of the drink already spreading through her chest. "You sound like a tour guide."

"Only for the right guests," Lucas replied smoothly. Then his tone shifted, eyes locking onto hers. "Want to get away from the noise? There's a quieter spot in the VIP lounge. More drinks, less drama."

Pearl hesitated, glancing around as if looking for Aria. Her friend had disappeared into the crowd.

Lucas stepped a little closer. "Just a few minutes. You'll like it. I promise."

Pearl hesitated again, her grip tightening slightly around the glass. Something about Lucas's eyes made her cautious, but the warmth of the drink and the soft music dulling her nerves convinced her otherwise.

"Just for a few minutes," she said, finally.

Lucas smiled, offering his hand like a gentleman. "That's all I need."

She didn't take his hand but walked beside him as he led her through the crowd. They slipped past velvet ropes and into the VIP lounge—quieter, dimmer, with plush velvet couches and gold accents. The air was heavier here, scented with expensive cologne and secrecy.

"Nice," Pearl murmured, taking it in.

Lucas poured her another glass from a bottle sitting on a private table. "To distractions," he said again, handing it to her.

Pearl took a sip—then another, larger one. The liquid burned less this time. She sank into the couch, laughing softly at something Lucas said, though she couldn't quite follow his words. Her head felt lighter. The music seems slower.

Lucas sat close—closer than necessary—and tilted his head. "You know, I'm glad your friend dragged you out tonight. I don't usually get this lucky."

Pearl smiled vaguely, but her posture had started to sag. Her limbs felt warm and loose.

"I mean, beautiful, smart… You've got this mysterious energy about you." He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Bet your ex is already regretting everything."

Pearl flinched slightly, blinking hard. The room swayed for a second.

"I should probably check on my friend," she said, trying to sit up straighter.

Lucas leaned in, murmuring, "Relax. She's having fun. You should too. Don't think so much."

He placed a hand lightly on her thigh.

Pearl's smile vanished. Her hand gripped the edge of the couch to steady herself.

"Okay—" she started, her tone sharper now, her voice a little slurred. "That's enough."

Lucas didn't move right away. He leaned closer, his breath heavy with whiskey. "Come on, I thought we were vibing."

Pearl pushed his hand off. "No, we're not."

Across the lounge, Richard Harrison stood near the bar, locked in a brief conversation with a potential investor. His expression was calm, but as he glanced over the rim of his glass, his gaze landed on the scene unfolding in the corner.

He saw the girl—clearly tipsy, uncomfortable—and the man leaning too close, ignoring the signals. Richard's jaw tensed.

"Excuse me," he said curtly, cutting the conversation short. Without waiting for a response, he crossed the room in long, purposeful strides.

Pearl was just getting to her feet, swaying slightly. Lucas reached for her arm. "Hey, don't be like that—"

"Is there a problem here?"

The words cut through the music like glass.

Pearl turned, blinking up at the tall figure standing beside her. Her heart jumped.

Lucas backed up at once, raising both hands. "Not at all. We were just—"

"She said it was enough," Richard said, his voice sharp now. "Step back."

Lucas gave a sheepish chuckle. "Alright, alright. No need to cause a scene."

Richard's eyes didn't leave him. "Then don't give me one."

Lucas hesitated for a second too long before walking away, muttering under his breath.

Pearl let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her legs were unsteady, and she caught herself against the couch.

"You alright?" Richard asked, his tone softer now.

She nodded, though her eyes were glassy. "I think… I think I had too much."

He studied her for a moment, noting the flushed cheeks, the half-empty glass, the way she avoided his eyes.

"You shouldn't be here alone," he said.

"I wasn't. My friend—"

"Still," he interrupted gently. "Places like this… they attract the wrong kind of people."

She nodded slowly.

"Come on," Richard said, offering his hand. "Let's get you some air."

And this time, she took it.

Richard's hand found her waist—not in a possessive way, but firm enough to guide her without question. His touch was steady, grounding, and for a moment, Pearl forgot the buzz in her head and the heaviness in her chest.

He didn't ask. He simply led her through the velvet-curtained hallway, past golden chandeliers and murmuring guests, until they reached a quiet balcony draped in shadows and city light.

The wind greeted them gently, cool and calming. Pearl inhaled deeply, her head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut.

"Better?" His voice was low, close to her ear.

She nodded, her arm brushing against his as they stood side by side. Her bare shoulder grazed the fine fabric of his jacket, and goosebumps followed the contact. She wasn't sure if it was from the breeze or the feel of him so near.

Richard didn't step away. He leaned on the railing beside her, the space between them barely a breath. His presence was overwhelming in its quiet power—like a storm waiting to break, held back only by his own will.

Pearl turned slightly to glance at him, and their faces were closer than she expected. Too close.

She caught the sharp line of his jaw, the shadows dancing across his cheekbone, the way his lips parted just enough as if he was about to speak but changed his mind.

Neither of them moved. The city stretched endlessly before them, but all Pearl could feel was the press of her skin against his suit, the thump of her heart in her throat.

And from somewhere behind, hidden in the warm shadows of the rooftop—

Click.

A subtle flash. Silent. Quick.

Someone lowered a phone, satisfaction glinting in their eyes before they disappeared into the crowd again.

Pearl didn't notice.

Richard did.

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

Instead, he shifted just slightly, placing his body between her and the party as if shielding her from something unseen.

She leaned into the railing, exhaling. "I needed this… more than I thought."

He studied her for a moment. "Don't let people like him corner you again."

"I didn't mean to—"

"You shouldn't have to explain." His voice was cool now. Distant again. The moment between them closing like a door.

He straightened, slipping his hand from her waist. "I'll send someone to find your friend."

Pearl turned toward him, but his gaze had already moved—focused on the world beyond her.

And just like that, the man who had held her so carefully moments ago walked away without looking back.