Seraphina Hart and Adrian Blake Official Engagement Party
The hall was a world of its own — a shimmering palace of glass and gold.
Massive crystal chandeliers cast a soft golden glow over marble floors polished to perfection. Waiters in crisp black uniforms glided between guests, offering champagne and hors d'oeuvres. A live string quartet played near the grand staircase, their music weaving through the chatter of the city's most powerful and privileged.
The event was the talk of the town — the official announcement of Adrian Blake's engagement to Seraphina Hart. It had become more than a party. It was a declaration of power. Two dynasties uniting under a single banner.
Adrian stood tall in a perfectly tailored suit, his arm loosely resting at Seraphina's waist. Cameras flashed as they posed for photos. His cold features softened just enough to pass for the doting fiancé. Seraphina, radiant in a silver gown that shimmered with every move, played her part flawlessly. The press called them the perfect match, The Golden Pair — beauty, power, legacy, all wrapped in one picture-perfect image.
Adrian had decided he would make this relationship work. He'd convince himself if he had to. Seraphina was the woman from that night — that was the truth he chose now. He owed it to the Blake name, to his grandfather. And perhaps, if he tried hard enough, he could be the man the world thought he was.
In the background, unseen by the dazzling guests, Raya was among the workers serving.
Even though Raya didn't have time for news, she had heard she looked a lot like the Hart heiress.
Anna had begged her not to work this event. But the pay was double if not triple, and Raya needed every dollar. She kept her head low, her face covered by a plain black mask that hid her jaw and lips — a precaution Anna had urged her to take. Just in case. The last thing she needed was someone mistaking her for Seraphina Hart. The resemblance was too uncanny; even Anna had once frozen when she'd first seen Seraphina's face in a magazine.
Raya moved through the crowd, balancing a tray of drinks. The mask helped her blend in — another faceless worker among dozens. No one paid her any mind. She was invisible, as always.
Her heart pounded, not from the work but from the ache building in her chest. She'd thought she was prepared. She'd thought she could do this.
Until she saw them.
Across the room stood a woman elegant, graceful, draped in a deep burgundy gown that hugged her figure. Her dark hair was swept into an intricate twist, diamonds glittering at her ears. And beside her, a young man and woman — both her husband and her stepchildren, the picture of privilege.
Raya froze for a breath too long, the tray trembling in her hands.
Her mother.
Claudia Brown, now a Reyes.
Claudia Reyes.
The woman who had left her behind without a word. The woman who now smiled, radiant, as if she'd never known loss, never caused it. And her stepchildren — Lucas Reyes, tall and confident, chatting easily with other heirs and heiresses. His sister, Camilla Reyes, poised and charming, adored by those around her, though her smile never quite reached her eyes.
Raya forced herself to move again, weaving through the guests, staying far from that small, perfect family. She couldn't afford to draw attention. Not here. Not now.
The woman who was her supposed mother didn't see her. Never looked her way.
Adrian stood beside Seraphina, offering her his arm as they greeted another round of guests. His expression remained cool, unreadable — the perfect image of a man fulfilling his duty, nothing more.
Seraphina smiled brightly for the cameras, playing her part to perfection. Together, they looked every bit the power couple the world expected.
Camilla's gaze drifted constantly toward Adrian — eyes full of hunger, jealousy, longing. She never hid her infatuation. She was also aware of Seraphina's place beside him. But she still wanted him no matter what.
Raya passed behind Claudia's group, tray balanced carefully.
But then, a sharp movement — Camilla's foot shot out, subtle but deliberate, catching Raya's path.
Raya tripped.
Gasps rang out as the tray tilted. The flutes clinked midair, and cold champagne splashed across Seraphina's gown.
Time slowed. Everyone turned to look at what had just happened.
Seraphina's mother, Juliana, rushed to her side.
Adrian turned just in time to catch Raya before she hit the floor. His arms steadied her, strong and instinctive.
Normal he wouldn't have cared but he couldn't stop himself from saving her before she touched the ground.
And for a moment — their eyes met.
Raya's gray eyes were wide, startled, fearful — but they held a depth that struck him. A quiet fire. A sadness.
Something achingly familiar.
Adrian's hold didn't loosen.
His chest tightened.
She looked very familiar to him.
But where?
"I'm so sorry, sir. Ma'am," Raya breathed, lowering her head. "It was an accident."
Hoping she wasn't fired for this mistake.
She glanced at Camilla over her shoulder. She knew Camilla had done it on purpose.
But why? They had no feud.
Did she know her somehow?
"You should be more careful," someone sneered. Another voice snapped, "Who hired her?"
Camilla stepped forward, feigning concern. "She came out of nowhere, honestly. Poor thing."
Adrian's gaze cut to her like ice.
He saw it.
He saw everything.
But he said nothing.
Instead, his voice rang clear, cold, and final: "It's fine. Let her go."
The whispers stopped.
Raya blinked up at him, stunned.
But she said nothing — just grateful she wasn't fired on the spot. She pulled away gently and turned, face burning with shame as she slipped back into the sea of black-and-white uniforms.
Behind them, Seraphina dabbed her gown with a napkin — her smile never wavering.
Not that she didn't want to react, but she needed to keep her grace before Adrian.
"Such grace," someone whispered. "She's a real Hart."
Elias Blake observed from a distance, his eyes on Adrian. He said nothing, but the faint curl of satisfaction touched his lips. The boy had presence, control. He knew when to let a moment pass.
Patrick leaned toward a guest, his friend smirking. "Hope she cleans up better at the wedding."
Seraphina's parents, dignified and distant, murmured pleasantries. Claudia stood proud beside them, unaware that her own daughter had just brushed her shoulder minutes ago.
Camilla's smile faltered slightly when Adrian didn't look her way.
Back on the service floor, Raya gripped the kitchen counter, trying to breathe.
"Raya, no more mistakes tonight, please," she murmured to herself.
She wiped her eyes quickly, cheeks still damp from the champagne. Her heart pounded not with fear, but with something else. Something unnameable.
Adrian stood quietly beside Seraphina, but his thoughts had drifted far.
That girl…
He hadn't seen her face properly.
But her eyes…
They reminded him of someone. Someone, somewhere.
But who?
He glanced toward the shadows of the room.
Meanwhile, Raya returned and moved more quietly through the crowd, masked, blending in, invisible in plain sight. No one gave her a second glance — just another worker in black and white, part of the scenery of their glittering world.
---
Outside, the night air was crisp. When Raya's shift finally allowed, she slipped onto the balcony, pulling down the mask to breathe properly. The city lights stretched endlessly before her, glittering like a sea of unreachable stars.
Her fingers clenched the railing.
So close. Yet so far from the world that was never meant for her.
She thought of Adrian and Seraphina inside — the perfect couple. And her mother and her new family — untouched by the struggles that defined Raya's every day.
A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"A world that was never mine," she whispered.
---
Adrian's mansion — the day after the engagement
The ring hit the bed with a soft clink — small, almost insignificant, but loud in the silence that followed.
Adrian looked up from where he stood near the dresser, still shirtless, a towel slung around his shoulders. Water clung to his hair, dripping onto the marble floor. His jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Seraphina stood near the bed, her chest rising and falling with restrained fury. Her eyes, glassy but defiant, met his for a lingering second.
"You'll never find the ghost of me you're looking for," she said quietly. "Because you wouldn't recognize what you had… even if it stood right in front of you."
She grabbed her bag, walked to the door, then paused — as if hoping he'd stop her.
But Adrian just stood there, just watching her.
The door opened. Then slammed.
The sound echoed through the cold walls of the penthouse like a final note in a dying song.
Adrian didn't follow.
He didn't call her back.
He stood there for a moment longer, staring at the abandoned ring on the sheets — then picked up his watch, slid it onto his wrist, and lay on the bed to sleep as if nothing had happened.
"She'll be back," he muttered under his breath.
Not out of hope. But certainty.
Because he knew she couldn't leave him. Because she loved him.