Chapter Nine: The Enemy in the Room

The lights at the Belvoir Grand Ballroom glittered like stars that had gotten tired of the sky and fallen into a chandelier. The velvet carpet under my heels was so plush I feared tripping on it. The walls were draped in gold and ivory, and the air reeked of old money and new secrets.

Andrew’s hand rested lightly at the small of my back as we stepped into the hall.

He was dressed in a sharp charcoal tuxedo, tailored like it had been sewn onto his skin. Next to him, I wore a flowing emerald gown Susan had picked out — one that cinched at the waist, swept the floor behind me, and whispered elegance.

I caught my reflection in a side mirror.

Not bad. Not invisible.

I could almost pass for the kind of woman who belonged here.

Almost.

“Chin up,” Andrew murmured without looking at me. “You’re the envy tonight.”

I scoffed quietly. “Or the charity case.”

His lips barely moved, but I caught the flicker of amusement. “Stop talking like that. You’re mine tonight, remember?”

Mine. The word should have made me bristle.

But it didn’t.

Instead, it settled into my chest with a strange kind of weight.

The moment we entered the heart of the ballroom, eyes turned. Phones subtly raised. Murmurs passed through champagne-sipping elites like a wave.

Andrew nodded to a few familiar faces, keeping his posture crisp and his hand on me like a statement.

We mingled. I smiled. Laughed where I needed to. Clinked glasses and exchanged air kisses with women in gowns worth my rent. For a moment, it almost felt like I belonged.

Until he arrived.

Bryan.

His voice was the first thing I heard — smug, smooth, and still so sharp I felt it slice right through me before I even turned.

I tried not to react. I really did.

But my spine stiffened. My stomach turned.

He was standing near the bar, dressed in an expensive grey suit and holding a drink like he owned the world. His eyes swept the crowd lazily — until they landed on me.

And then came the smirk.

That same cruel twist of lips he used to wear in high school. Like he still thought he had power over me.

I instinctively reached for Andrew’s arm.

“Don’t,” I whispered.

Andrew followed my gaze. His entire body shifted subtly — muscles taut, jaw flexing. I’d seen him angry before, but this was different.

This was lethal.

Bryan began to stroll over, taking his time like a wolf closing in on prey. His eyes danced between me and Andrew, and the closer he came, the more familiar that smugness became.

“Maria Smith,” he drawled. “Wow. You clean up well. Didn’t recognize you without the cafeteria tray and baby fat.”

I opened my mouth, but Andrew stepped forward.

“Mr. Bryant,” he said coolly.

Bryan blinked.

The use of his full name wasn’t accidental.

“Ah, Mr. Walker,” he chuckled. “Didn’t realize you two were… acquainted.”

Andrew’s stare was ice. “We’re engaged.”

The word sliced through the conversation like a blade.

Bryan’s smirk faltered for the briefest second.

“I see,” he said, eyes narrowing. “Well, congrats. Didn’t think you’d be into—”

“Finish that sentence,” Andrew cut in, voice like velvet-covered steel, “and I’ll make sure your little firm never sees another investor meeting in this city.”

Bryan froze.

Everyone within earshot went silent.

Andrew stepped closer, calm but dominating. “You’ll show my fiancée the respect she deserves. You will look her in the eye and apologize for whatever half-baked insult you thought was clever. And then you’ll walk away before I decide to deal with you properly.”

I swallowed hard.

Bryan laughed nervously. “Relax, I was just joking—”

Andrew didn’t flinch. “Do I look like I entertain jokes?”

Bryan faltered. Then, turning to me, he forced a smile. “Apologies. Maria.”

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to.

He backed off after that, retreating to the shadows like the coward he always was.

My knees felt weak, but Andrew’s hand on my back grounded me.

“I could’ve handled that,” I muttered as we walked away.

“Could you?” he asked dryly.

I gave him a sidelong glare. “You didn’t have to go full mafia boss on him.”

“He insulted you.”

“It’s not the first time.”

“It will be the last.”

We didn’t speak for a moment. But something lingered between us now — something unspoken and solid. Something that tasted a little like… trust.

Later that night, as the gala wound down and guests began to leave, Andrew and I stood by the balcony overlooking the city.

The stars were faint against the glowing skyline.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said quietly.

“Maybe not,” he replied, sipping his drink. “But I wanted to.”

I turned to look at him. “Why?”

He met my gaze, and for once, there was no smugness. No arrogance. Just quiet honesty.

“Because you deserve better than what he made you believe about yourself.”

My throat tightened.

I looked away quickly, pretending to adjust my hair. “Careful. You’re almost starting to sound human.”

He chuckled. “Don’t tell anyone.”

The wind picked up, brushing against my shoulders, and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like that chubby, bullied girl Bryan used to laugh at.

I felt seen.

And worse…

I felt safe.

Even if it was only temporary.