Piya stood in front of the mirror, clutching the soft fabric of her navy-blue gown like it might slip away if she let go. Her hair, curled gently at the ends, framed her face. A touch of light makeup—lip gloss, mascara, a bit of blush—did little to mask the nerves running through her.
She turned sideways, then again, then leaned forward, scrutinizing every angle of herself.
My shoulders look too stiff. My waist isn't slim enough. Do I look childish? No... maybe too plain.
Her thoughts spun in circles. Every imperfection she imagined grew louder in her head. Finally, she blew out a sharp breath and muttered, "It's fine... no one's going to notice me anyway." A pause. Then softer, almost as though convincing herself: "Which is also... good."
Still, her trembling fingers smoothed the gown once more before she forced herself to step out.
The cab ride with Asha was filled with nervous giggles and reassurances. "Relax, Piya," Asha said, effortlessly stunning in her emerald-green gown. "You look like someone out of a fairy tale. Trust me, no one's going to think otherwise."
Piya pressed her lips together, not trusting her voice.
The venue was something out of a dream. Crystal chandeliers sparkled like stars, polished marble reflected every shimmer of light, and laughter and chatter filled the air. The employees were dressed to impress, their gowns and suits blending with the polished sheen of powerful business magnates and the flashes of cameras from the media.
Piya felt her chest tighten. These aren't people like me. They belong here... I don't.
Ram's sudden appearance saved her. He walked over in a perfectly tailored black suit, his warm smile shining brighter than the chandeliers. "Wow," he said simply, eyes sweeping over Piya before softening. "You look... really, really beautiful."
Her cheeks warmed instantly. "Th-thank you," she mumbled, heart fluttering at the sincerity in his gaze.
"And Asha," Ram added with a playful grin, "you could outshine the chandeliers."
"Don't waste your lines on me, Ram," Asha teased, though she looked pleased.
Their laughter felt like a lifeline to Piya, grounding her in a world that otherwise seemed far too dazzling.
Then it happened.
The room fell into a hush, as though the air itself bowed in respect.
From the top of the grand staircase, Liam Asher appeared. Tall, striking, his tailored black suit fitting him with the kind of perfection that couldn't be bought—it was worn like second skin. His sharp gaze scanned the hall, calm yet commanding, making even the most confident men straighten and the women flutter with whispers
He didn't need to smile. He didn't need to speak. His presence alone was enough to dominate the space. Behind him, Joe followed with his usual carefree smirk, and another man—a friend yet unnamed—walked with a quiet grace.
Every eye followed Liam. Every whisper was about him. Piya felt her breath hitch as her eyes accidentally met his direction. Her chest tightened—not out of admiration like the others, but something heavier. Fear? Awe? Both. She quickly looked away, clutching her purse tighter.
Joe leaned closer to their unnamed friend, his tone playful. "See Sam? The whole world would probably set itself on fire just to get his attention. And he doesn't even blink."
The friend chuckled. "That's Liam for you. He doesn't chase the crowd. The crowd chases him."
Meanwhile, employees scrambled, eager to exchange even a word with Liam, to catch his eye, to make themselves known. But he walked forward unbothered, his calm stride making it clear—this was his kingdom, and tonight, they were all mere guests.
Piya swallowed hard, a single thought circling in her mind:
What am I even doing here?
The party was in full swing now. Music drifted softly in the background, glasses clinked, and the scent of expensive perfumes mingled with laughter and hushed conversations. Reporters with cameras hovered near the entrance, waiting for glimpses of business giants who were making their way in.
Piya stood near the side with Asha, clutching her glass of juice like it was a lifeline. She tried to ignore the glittering gowns, the confident laughter, and the effortless poise of women who looked like they belonged in fashion magazines.
I shouldn't have come. I look like a child playing dress-up.
"Stop frowning, you'll wrinkle your forehead," Asha teased, lightly nudging her. "You look fine. Relax. This isn't a movie, no one's judging you that hard."
Piya gave her a weak smile. "Easy for you to say. You look like you walked out of a royal ball."
Before Asha could reply, Ram joined them, two glasses of champagne in his hands. His eyes found Piya first. "Juice? You're really not going to try this?" He tilted the glass with a playful smirk.
"I... don't drink," Piya muttered, cheeks warming.
"Good," he said simply, handing the glass to Asha instead. "Better to keep that sparkle in your eyes natural."
Piya blinked at him, caught off guard. Why does he always say things like that so casually? Her heart gave a nervous flutter, but she pushed it away.
Across the hall, Liam stood with Joe and their unnamed friend. His sharp gaze occasionally swept over the crowd, though his expression betrayed nothing.
Joe, however, was all over the place. He clinked his glass against his friend's. "Look at this—every single person here is trying to orbit around Liam. It's like watching moths to a flame."
The friend chuckled. "Well, he's the flame."
"And yet," Joe muttered dramatically, "he doesn't care. He could at least pretend to be flattered."
Liam ignored him, calm as ever, speaking instead to a senior executive about the company's recent expansion. His voice was steady, his words precise, the kind of confidence that made even the most seasoned businessmen pause and listen.
Back near the quieter corner, Ram leaned closer to Piya. "Don't worry about all this. Big parties like these—they're just glitter. What really matters is who you are when the lights fade."
She looked up at him, surprised by the warmth in his voice. "You talk like you've done this a hundred times."
"Maybe," he said with a small shrug, his smile soft. "But tonight? You're doing fine, Piya. Better than you think."
Her chest warmed at his words. Maybe she wasn't as invisible as she thought.
Then, the room shifted again.
The lights dimmed slightly, a spotlight falling on the stage where the microphone stood. The murmurs quieted, the crowd waiting.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the host announced, "please welcome the man behind ShadowByte, our CEO—Mr. Liam Asher."
Applause thundered through the hall. Cameras flashed. Heads turned.
Piya froze where she stood, her breath catching. Her eyes were drawn—no, pulled—to the man who walked up to the stage.
Liam moved with unhurried confidence, each step echoing like it owned the floor. The applause wasn't just respect—it was reverence. And yet, his expression remained calm, unreadable, as if the noise didn't touch him at all.
"Good evening," Liam's voice rolled out, smooth and commanding, carrying through the hall without strain. Conversations stilled. Even the clinking of glasses seemed to halt. "Thank you all for being here tonight to celebrate not just our company's success, but the dedication of every individual who made it possible."
He spoke simply, but every word carried weight, the kind of authority that didn't need decoration.
Piya's heart raced. Her palms felt damp. She didn't know if it was nerves, awe, or something else entirely, but one thought echoed inside her like a drum:
He's different.
The applause finally died down as Liam stepped away from the microphone, returning to his circle of high-profile guests. Cameras flashed in his direction, reporters eagerly jotting down notes.
Piya exhaled slowly, trying to ground herself. But before she could process more, Asha suddenly stiffened beside her.
Her eyes widened, locking on the group where Liam stood. More specifically—on the man laughing animatedly with a glass in hand. Joe.
"Oh no," Asha whispered, clutching Piya's arm so tightly that it startled her. "Piya—I'm doomed. I'm done."
Piya blinked. "What? What are you talking about?"
Asha half-hid her face with her hair, looking panicked. "That guy! I—I ran into him the other day. remember?. If he sees me here, I'm finished. Just finished."
Before Piya could even ask what she meant, Asha ducked behind her, using her as a human shield. "Please, please stand still. Maybe he won't notice me."
Piya couldn't help it—she laughed, though she tried to smother it behind her hand. "Seriously? The fearless Asha hiding behind me like a terrified kitten?"
Asha hissed. "Don't laugh! This isn't funny. You don't know how much trouble I'll be in if he recognizes me. I think he is CEO's friend"
Still giggling, Piya whispered, "Relax. He's busy talking to Mr. King-of-the-World Liam. He's not going to scan the room just to find you."
But Asha didn't move, still clutching Piya's shoulders from behind.
Ram walked up just then, arching a brow at the strange sight. "And what exactly is going on here? Why is Piya your personal bodyguard?"
Piya bit her lip to keep from laughing again. "Apparently, Asha's hiding from someone. Very dramatically, I might add."
Ram glanced toward the direction Asha had been staring earlier, then smirked knowingly. "Ah. Joe."
Asha groaned. "Don't say his name! Now he'll hear it and spot me for sure."
Ram chuckled softly, clearly entertained. "Relax. He's not looking this way. But wow, Asha—I never thought I'd see you scared of someone. Should I start taking notes?"
"Shut up," she muttered, still crouching slightly behind Piya. "This is serious."
But Piya, caught between Asha's panic and Ram's amusement, could barely hold her laughter anymore. "Asha, honestly, you look like a kid playing hide-and-seek. If Joe does notice you, he'll probably just think you've lost your mind."
Asha narrowed her eyes at her. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"Of course I am," Piya said, grinning. "This is the first time you're the one panicking instead of me."