Kaya could feel the atmosphere shift like a gust of cold wind.
This man, this sharp-eyed figure dressed in a tailored mandarin suit and holding a polished cane, was not just family. He was power incarnate. Leon's grandfather.
He didn't smile. He didn't say anthing. Just stared.
His gaze raked across Kaya like a slow blade, pausing at her neckline, the curve of her shoulder, the way her hand rested on Leon's sleeve. She felt naked under it, inspected and already found wanting.
"You're taller than I imagined," the man finally said, voice low and gravelled. "And plainer. But I suppose the camera adds drama."
Kaya opened her mouth, then shut it. She wasn't sure what to say to that. Was it an insult? A test?
Leon's hand tightened slightly around hers.
"Grandfather, this is Kaya. My wife."
"I know who she is," the old man cut in. "I may be old, Leon, but I haven't gone blind. The media hasn't let me. Nor have your board members."
Leon's expression remained unreadable, but his posture was stiff, coiled.
The older man turned his gaze back to Kaya. "You. Do you love him?"
The question fell like a pin on polished glass. Sharp. Cracking the moment.
Kaya widened her eyes, shocked at the question. She looked at Leon and then back at his grandfather.
"I…" she tilted her head slightly, then smiled with poise. "I believe love is a word that takes time, sir. But I trust him. And I respect what he's built."
Leon's grandfather didn't react for a moment. Then, very slowly, he nodded.
"Hmph. I see this one has a clever tongue."
He turned to Leon. "Thursday. My home. Dinner. Bring her. And ensure she wears something proper."
Leon inclined his head. "Of course."
The old man turned without another word and vanished into the crowd like a ghost retreating into fog.
Kaya exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Well," she muttered under her breath. "That was terrifying."
Before he could respond, a staff member in a sleek black suit approached them with a practiced bow. "Mr. Feng, Mrs. Feng. This way, please."
They were guided to a lavishly set table near the edge of the ballroom's inner circle, close enough to the center to matter, but far enough to keep space. Everything glittered: crystal glasses, silk napkins, gold-plated cutlery, and the air buzzed with music and quiet politics.
Kaya took her seat and glanced at the elaborate meal placed in front of her. She didn't recognize half of it. There were tiny portions arranged like artwork on porcelain so fine it probably had a pedigree.
She poked at what looked like gold-dusted duck confit with the tip of her fork, wondering if this was some edible status symbol she should recognize.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she murmured.
Leon said nothing in response. Kaya looked up at him, noting that his attention was elsewhere and his face was squeezed in a frown.
She wanted to ask what was wrong, but she bit her tongue before she could.
It was none of her business.
As she continued to observe the meal in front of her, The clatter of heels announced the approach of three women. They descended like swans, if swans wore envy as perfume.
"Mr. Feng. Mrs. Feng! Kaya, was it?"
The voice came sharp and sweet, like sugar poured over broken glass. The woman in the silver dress leaned in with a glossy smile that didn't touch her eyes. Her fingers sparkled with too many rings, and her perfume was the kind that clung and lingered.
Kaya turned to her with polite curiosity. "Hello. And you are?"
"Miranda Chou," she said, flipping her hair back like she was on a runway. "That's Vivian Ho—" a brunette in a glittering emerald gown offered a wave "—and this is Selena Wu."
Selena, in a deep burgundy slip dress that left little to the imagination, raised her glass in a mock toast.
"We've… known Leon for a very long time," Miranda finished with a flutter of her lashes.
Vivian leaned in next, smiling with all her teeth. "We just wanted to say... congratulations. Not everyone lands a Feng."
Kaya's lips curved. "Not everyone tries."
Leon, who had been watching the exchange in still silence, raised a brow slightly at that. Amused. Just a flicker. But it vanished as quickly as it came.
Selena stepped in last, her expression all velvet and venom. She held a cocktail glass filled with something pale and sugary. "You must be so nervous," she cooed, eyes dancing. "First gala, first husband, all these powerful people watching... It's a lot."
Then came the gesture, careless, subtle, perfectly timed.
The cocktail glass tilted, and cold liquid splashed across Kaya's front, hitting the red silk of her gown.
The chill of it soaked through the fabric, and Kaya's eyes widened in horror.
"Oh no!" Selena gasped, tone rising in exaggerated shock. "I'm so clumsy."
Kaya began to breathe heavily, torn between landing a slap on Selena's face and doing nothing.
But she didn't have to do or say anything.
Leon was already on his feet, his eyes glinting with something lethal and he glared at Selena.
"I see your coordination is still as poor as your manners," he said, his voice glacial.
Selena's expression faltered. "Leon—it was an accid—"
"No," Leon said, calmly taking off his tuxedo jacket. "This is an accident."
He draped the jacket over Kaya's shoulders with a smooth, practiced motion, like it was second nature to cover her, to protect her, to remind the world who she stood beside.
His eyes returned to Selena, hard as polished obsidian.
"Try something like this again," he said, his voice like velvet over razors, "and you won't be welcome in any room I enter. Am I clear?"
Selena's mouth opened, then closed again. A beat passed.
Then she gave a tight, awkward nod. "Crystal."
Miranda and Vivian exchanged looks before awkwardly mumbling excuses, their heels clicking away in retreat as they followed Selena.
Kaya exhaled through her nose, finally allowing herself to touch the lapel of Leon's jacket. It was warm from his body, heavy on her shoulders.
"Thank you," she murmured.
Leon didn't respond, not right away. His eyes followed the trio as they vanished into the glittering crowd.
Only after a beat did he speak, his voice curt. "Don't thank me for basic decency."
Then his phone buzzed. He checked the screen and turned slightly from her as he answered.
"Damien."
She heard the low voice on the other end, and though she couldn't make out the words, the slight change in Leon's expression told her something was wrong.
"No update on Wenna?" Leon asked, jaw twitching.
There was a pause, then he spoke again, this time quieter. "What about the tech retail chain?"
Another pause. Then Leon nodded.
"Good. Get the footage. I'll handle it from there."
He ended the call and turned to Kaya, his expression back to unreadable.
"We're leaving now."
Her brows lifted. "Seriously?"
"Do I sound like I'm joking?"
Relief bloomed in her chest, but she masked it. "Not even a little."
Leon offered no explanation, only extended a hand.
Kaya took it without a word, and together, they stepped away from the glittering table, leaving behind the shattered politeness and the spilled cocktail.
Finally, the show was over.