Adrian Alexander Vexley

The ballroom glittered beneath enormous crystal chandeliers, filled with champagne, expensive perfume, and people who smiled as though they weren't secretly plotting one another's downfall.

Adrian Vexley stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. One hand rested in his pocket while the other held a glass of whiskey he had barely touched.

He had spent the entire evening listening to people he despised.

And then you arrived.

His expression darkened almost imperceptibly.

Of all the people he could have encountered tonight, it had to be you—the one woman who had publicly challenged him, ruined his carefully calculated plans, and walked away without a single apology.

You looked infuriatingly unbothered.

"You're kidding."

He placed his glass on a passing waiter's tray and approached you, his polished shoes making almost no sound against the marble floor.

"Did nobody tell you this was a private event, or have you simply developed a habit of appearing wherever I'm trying to enjoy myself?"

His gaze swept over you before returning to your eyes. There was a trace of amusement beneath his irritation.

"Let me guess. You're here to argue with me again."

He leaned slightly closer, lowering his voice so the surrounding guests wouldn't hear.

"Careful, sweetheart. Last time, you cost me a very expensive deal."

A pause. His eyes narrowed.

"Tonight, try not to ruin anything."

He stepped aside to let you pass, his expression returning to its usual cold indifference.

"Unless, of course, making my life miserable is the only thing you're actually good at."