The press conference ended in a frenzy of flashing lights and shouted questions. Security escorted the reporters out one by one, their voices fading into distant murmurs behind the heavy glass doors.
The hall dimmed to a softer glow. Only a few bodyguards and staff remained, clearing the stage and shutting off the spotlights.
Adrian stood still for a moment, his back straight, his gaze fixed on the glimmering display of Lunara Beauty. Every golden-wrapped lip tint shimmered under the fading light, their glow reflecting faintly in his dark eyes.
Leonard approached quietly. "Everything's settled, sir. The guests will be gone within ten minutes."
Adrian gave a small nod, his tone low. "I'll be upstairs."
He walked past the velvet curtain, his steps slow but steady, the sound of his polished shoes echoing softly against the marble floors. The penthouse above the grand hall was silent — untouched, bathed in silver moonlight that streamed through tall glass windows.
And there, by the window, she stood.
Valeria.
Her delicate frame glowed faintly beneath the city lights. A thin silk scarf covered part of her face, hiding the features that once captured the world's admiration. Her heart beat faster the moment she saw him — tall, cold, breathtakingly composed — the same man who had just told the world she was gone.
Her lips curved into a soft smile. "They loved it…" she whispered, voice trembling with joy. "The brand… it's finally being seen, Adrian. They really loved it."
He didn't answer at first. His gaze softened, shadows flickering in his eyes. The storm in him eased — if only for her. He walked toward her slowly, his movements quiet and deliberate, as though afraid she might vanish if he came too close.
And when he finally stood before her, she couldn't help it. The emotion, the pride, the aching relief — it all rushed through her at once. She leaned forward impulsively and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.
It was soft. Hesitant. Warm.
The moment froze.
Her eyes widened instantly as realization hit her. "I… I didn't mean— I was just—" she stammered, her words tangled with panic.
Before she could pull away, his hand came up — strong, possessive, a vice of certainty — resting against the back of her neck. He tilted her head back just an inch, his eyes burning into hers, a silent, terrifying promise of what was coming.
"You think you can do that," he murmured, voice dark and rough, edged with dangerous control, "and get away with it?"
And then he kissed her.
There was no grace, only a collision of need. His mouth took hers with a punishing force that stole her breath and every coherent thought. This wasn't a gentle request; it was a claim of ownership, years of agonizing distance and unspoken devotion exploding in a single, desperate instant. The delicate silk scarf was pushed aside, lost to the floor as his free hand slid to her waist, crushing her against the solid wall of his body.
Valeria was instantly, terrifyingly lost. She was rigid with shock and a deeper, thrilling recognition. He was heat, steel, and demanding focus. When his tongue finally breached, seeking entrance, it was a dizzying, masterful invasion, and she made a soft, helpless sound that was swallowed by his intensity.
She couldn't move, couldn't think. She just felt the fierce pressure of his lips, the hungry rhythm he set. Her hands trembled, pressing weakly against his chest, but she didn't know what to do with them. She had no practiced move, no smooth response. When he pulled back slightly, allowing her a shallow gasp of air, she made a clumsy attempt to mimic his action, pressing her mouth back against his shyly. It was all wrong, hesitant, and entirely inexperienced.
A sound rumbled deep in Adrian's chest—a low, satisfied growl that was more primal than human. It was all the encouragement she needed. She tried to kiss him back again, clumsily, her lips seeking his, fumbling to find his rhythm, desperate to taste the fire he was offering.
When the dizzying wave of sensation finally allowed her mind a moment of clarity, a deep, searing blush flooded her cheeks, crawling all the way down her neck. She was kissing Adrian, the man who owned the city, and she had no idea how to do it.
It felt endless — five minutes of silence, the world outside forgotten. The only sound was the faint hum of the city below, and the soft catch of her ragged breath against his.
When they finally broke apart, she stared up at him, her eyes wide and dazed, her face stained the color of crushed berries.
He didn't say anything. He just brushed his thumb against her swollen, tender lower lip, his gaze dark, possessive, and utterly unreadable.
"I missed you," she whispered, voice barely audible.
"I never stopped seeing you," he replied simply, his tone deep and sincere — a confession disguised as restraint.
But neither of them noticed the movement below.
Through the glass panels overlooking the grand hall, Chesla, Chantel, and Marissa were leaving, their laughter brittle after the long event. Then Chantel suddenly froze, her eyes catching a shadow upstairs.
"Wait—" she whispered, grabbing Chesla's arm. "Look."
The three of them turned.
There, through the shimmering glass wall of the penthouse, they caught a glimpse — Adrian De Vere, their city's most untouchable man, holding a woman close, his lips still near hers.
Chesla's expression hardened. "Another fling?" she scoffed softly, though jealousy burned behind her calm tone.
Chantel's eyes narrowed, her voice low. "Looks like he's found a new toy."
They turned away, heels clicking sharply against the marble, unaware of the truth — that the woman they thought gone forever was right above them, alive, hidden, and ready to rise again.
Upstairs, Valeria leaned against Adrian's chest, her voice soft as she looked at the golden products displayed across the city lights.
"They'll never know," she whispered, "that the ghost they buried is still breathing."
Adrian's arms tightened around her waist. "Let them worship your memory," he said quietly. "Soon, they'll kneel before your return."
And outside, as the moonlight washed over the skyline, Lunara Beauty shimmered like the promise of both love — and revenge.