The hum of focused chatter and the clatter of heels echoed through the Celeste headquarters. The newly launched branch was thriving, pulsing with creative energy as designers and executives moved through the gleaming hallways. At the heart of it all, Liyana Xu sat in the executive suite, poring over a campaign schedule with none other than Aiden Zheng, the global superstar who had recently agreed to collaborate with Celeste as their new international ambassador.
Tall, striking, and dressed in a custom-tailored charcoal suit, Aiden radiated a quiet charm as he leaned over the table, pointing to a layout.
"I think this shoot in Santorini will really set the tone for your brand's global reach," he said, his voice low, professional—but undeniably smooth.
Liyana nodded, scribbling down notes. "Let's arrange a call with the creative director in Milan. If we can get this done before the gala, the campaign could explode."
They worked efficiently, nothing but mutual respect exchanged between them. Aiden was charismatic, no doubt, but Liyana's demeanor remained all business—focused, elegant, composed.
But outside the glass walls of her office, cameras clicked.
Two members of the press, hidden among invited guests touring Celeste's new flagship building, had captured a single photo: Aiden Zheng leaning in closely, smiling at Liyana. The lighting, the angle, the moment—it looked far more intimate than it truly was.
The image hit the digital news outlets by lunchtime.
"EXCLUSIVE: Romance brewing between Celeste CEO and Top Star Aiden Zheng?""Power Couple Alert? Liyana Xu and Aiden Zheng Spark Dating Rumors!"
Lu Group Headquarters – Afternoon
Damien Lu was deep in discussion with his board, his sharp mind juggling numbers, future investments, and pending real estate contracts. Just as he signed off on a high-stake acquisition, Zhen entered the room, holding a tablet.
"Sir," Zhen said carefully. "There's something you need to see."
Damien raised a brow, motioning for him to speak privately.
They stepped out onto the balcony of the Lu Group tower, overlooking the city skyline. Zhen handed him the device wordlessly.
The moment Damien's eyes landed on the screen, something shifted in his expression.
Aiden Zheng.
His Liyana.
That image.
The vein at his temple ticked. His jaw locked. The calm businessman dissolved like smoke in a storm.
"Where was this taken?" he asked, voice dangerously low.
"At Celeste, this morning," Zhen replied. "It's misleading, obviously. But the image is spreading."
Damien's fingers curled into a fist.
He had known Aiden. Known the way the media adored him. The man could smile at a plant and spark dating rumors.
But this?
This involved Liyana.
The only woman who had ever occupied his mind, his body, his soul.
Damien turned away, his shoulders taut. "Have their PR teams responded?"
"Celeste has made no public statement yet," Zhen said calmly. "But we've already flagged the media channels and are drafting a rebuttal."
"And Aiden Zheng?"
Zhen hesitated. "Still working with Celeste's team. From what I've heard, it's strictly professional."
Damien exhaled slowly, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to consume him.
"Set up a meeting," he said coldly. "I want to see Liyana. Now."
Zhen nodded, already dialing.
Liyana was midway through a presentation with her creative heads when her phone buzzed. She glanced down and found a single message.
Damien Lu: Lunch. 1 PM. Don't refuse.
She blinked. The tone was commanding—possessive. But beneath the chill, she sensed something else.
Concern.
The tension.
Something had happened.
She texted back one word: Okay.
The private restaurant Damien had booked was quiet and minimalistic—glass walls overlooking a koi pond, soft jazz playing in the background. But the calm surroundings couldn't hide the storm brewing beneath Damien's sharp gaze.
Liyana stepped in, still dressed in a fitted black midi dress from work. Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she approached the table.
Damien stood immediately, pulling out her chair for her without a word.
She blinked at the gesture. "You okay?"
His jaw tightened. "Sit."
The waiter arrived, placing two glasses of sparkling water and discreetly stepping away after taking their orders.
Silence lingered between them for a few beats.
Liyana raised an eyebrow. "You're being oddly quiet for someone who demanded a lunch meeting like a hostage negotiation."
Damien's gaze bore into her. "You were working with Aiden Zheng today."
She sighed, crossing her arms. "Let me guess. You saw the picture."
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his suit pocket and placed his phone on the table. The screen still showed the article headline and the image—Aiden leaning too close, the light catching Liyana's eyes just right.
"I know it's misleading," she said calmly. "And I know you know it's misleading."
"That doesn't matter," Damien replied, voice clipped. "What matters is that someone thought it real enough to send it to every major gossip column in the country."
Liyana leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "You're not jealous… are you, Mr. Lu?"
He didn't respond with words.
He didn't need to.
His eyes darkened—dangerously intense, filled with silent fury and something far deeper.
"I don't share what's mine," he said quietly.
Her heart stuttered in her chest.
She tried to mask the emotion rising in her throat. "We're not possessions, Damien. I'm not a handbag you can protect from rumors."
"But I will protect you," he snapped. "Even if it's from your own indifference."
That struck her. Hard.
Because she had been trying to stay emotionally distant. Even after everything. Even after the night they slept side by side, after he saved her, after the softest moments with his family.
She lowered her gaze for a second, then looked up again. "It's not indifference. I'm just scared."
His expression shifted, the edge in his posture softening.
Before he could respond, the waiter brought their meals.
But neither touched the food.
Damien reached out, placing his hand over hers. "Then don't be."
She looked at his fingers, long and elegant, now wrapped around hers so protectively.
"You think that picture hurt me?" he asked, quieter now. "No. What hurt was the thought that someone might use you as a tool to get to me again. I've already failed once. I won't again."
Liyana's throat tightened.
She nodded slowly.
"I'll issue a statement," she whispered. "Clarifying the rumors."
He nodded. "And I'll handle the media attack. Quietly."
As they finally began to eat, the tension between them began to ease—but it lingered, like smoke after a flame.