When Maxwell Hale announced he was marrying Selena Thorne, no one dared ask why.
The grand ballroom glistened under crystal chandeliers, a sea of shimmering faces and flashing cameras. Reporters whispered rumors, tech elites exchanged careful glances, and the world waited for the merger that would reshape the industry. But Maxwell stood apart, tall, firm, and immovable.
His gaze swept through the inquisitive crowd, sharp as a blade, until it landed on the woman standing next to Vincent Thorne. Poised, graceful, with eyes that held secrets that she refused to reveal. She was everything Selene should be - calm, soft-spoken, intelligent, and untouchable. But something about her presence felt…rehearsed. Too perfect
Maxwell watched her as she smiled at a photographer, and the hair on his back lifted. He didn't know why, but he would find out.
"Ladies and gentlemen", a voice interrupted Maxwell's thoughts and his attention diverted to Vincent Thorne.
Selene's father was the head of the Thorne empire.
"Tonight, I have the privilege of announcing a union not only between two families but also between two empires. After years of rivalry and resilience, the Thorne and Hale legacy will finally share a name through the engagement of my beautiful daughter Selene and Mr Maxwell Hale."
Polite applause ripples through the halls, Maxwell's expression cold as ice. Selene lowers her gaze like the perfect bride.
"My daughter has always carried the grace and vision of her mother," Vincent adds, his voice softening artificially. "And I know she will bring those same qualities into her new life as a Hale. Let this be the beginning of something extraordinary. Innovation, unity and, above all, trust" he lifts his glass, smiles, his eyes flick over to Maxwell calculating, then back to the crowd.
The last of the flashing cameras dimmed, their intrusive lenses now packed away into their bags. Reporters eager to chase their next stories exchanged low murmurs, now filed out of the ballroom, their polished shoes clicking against the marble floor.
By the time the door closed behind them, the air in the room had changed. What had once been a scene of carefully crafted smiles and forced pleasantries had turned heavy like a bowstring pulled too tight.
The hum of conversation from the remaining guests began to subside, replaced by the clink of glasses and the slow, deliberate tread of footsteps. The press was gone, but their intrusive eyes still lingered in the minds of those left behind.
Selene, still standing by the window, cast one last glance at the empty doorway. She didn't relax though. The silence felt like a trap, as though the room was holding its breath, waiting for the next move. She fiddled with the locket on her neck; it was already a habit she wasn't aware of, and it was the only way to calm her nerves. The act was becoming harder to maintain, with too many eyes on her. What exactly had she gotten herself into?
The sounds of footsteps approaching broke through her thoughts, and before she could even react, a voice smooth and calm, interrupted the silence that had already enveloped her.
"Lost in thought, Selene.?" Maxwell's tone wasn't a question, it was more of a challenge.
She blinked, caught off guard by the sound of his voice cutting through the haze of her thoughts.
Maxwell's words were calm, but there was an undercurrent to them that made her stomach tighten.
"I wasn't expecting you to approach me," she said, trying to mask the uneasiness creeping through her spine, but it was clear her composure had cracked, even if it was only for a second.
Maxwell took another step, his gaze unwavering.
"You seem distracted. I thought that's the last thing a bride should be."
The casual insult hit a little too close to home, but she swallowed it down, meeting his gaze with practiced detachment. " I'm just thinking about the night, it's been a lot to take in. "
Maxwell didn't seem convinced. He tilted his head slightly, studying her more closely than she was comfortable with. " I'm sure, but you've barely said a word since the announcement. One would think you'd have more to say.
She felt a flash of discomfort but masked it away, quickly nodding and taking a step back towards the window. The room once filled with the clink of glasses and muted chatter now felt small, as if every movement, every word was under his scrutiny.
"Haven't we all changed?" her voice was laced with a practiced smirk.
"Have you?" Maxwell's gaze sharpened.
"If you will excuse me, I need to use the restroom." Without a glance back, she swept past him, her body tensed as she walked away, her back straightening in an attempt to ward off the growing unease. Every step she took away from him felt like a quiet retreat, but her pulse told a different story, one of a battle she wasn't sure she was ready for, and she wasn't ready to be outplayed, at least not yet.
"She thinks she's in control," Maxwell thought, his eyes following her retreating, the smooth sway of her movement almost deliberate. But does she believe that? He narrowed his gaze as the weight of her composure settled on him. She carried herself like she knew how to play the game, as if she was two steps ahead of everyone in that room, but Maxwell wasn't fooled. He could see the cracks in her act, just barely, but they were there. " Everyone loses a game they don't understand," he thought with quiet certainty. And when the time came, he'd make sure she understood how exactly it felt to be outplayed.
Selene stepped into the restroom, the door clicking shut behind her the moment the lock clicked into place. Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a sigh of relief; it had been so close. She had almost given herself away, and it was just the beginning. Maxwell was sharper than her father had predicted. One slip-up and it would all be over.
" I just have to survive this long enough to burn him," Selene thought, staring back at her reflection, her gaze burning with fury.