No talking to strangers

The gala pulsed behind Piper like a living thing.

Beyond the balcony rail, the city glittered like stars, like something she was allowed to look at but not belong to.

Piper stood there alone, resting her palms against the cool stone. Her reflection hovered faintly in the glass doors behind her—elegant and polished. A version of herself she was still learning how to wear.

She didn’t see the man approach at first.

“You look like you’re trying not to drown.”

The voice startled her. Piper turned sharply, heart jolting, and found him standing a polite distance away. Early thirties. Tailored black suit. The kind of ease that came from belonging everywhere. His smile was friendly—but not entirely warm.

“I’m sorry,” she said instinctively. “I didn’t realize—”

“No, no.” He lifted his hands slightly, disarming. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m Daniel.”

She hesitated, just a fraction, then nodded. “Piper.”

“I know.” His gaze flicked briefly toward the ballroom. “Thomas Anderson’s wife.”

The word wife landed like a weight she hadn’t gotten used to.

“Yes,” she said, unsure why her chest tightened. “I was just… getting some air.”

Daniel chuckled softly. “These events do that to people. Especially when they’re new to this ecosystem.”

She smiled faintly despite herself. “Is it that obvious?”

“To someone watching? Maybe.” He leaned one elbow against the railing, careful not to crowd her. “But you’re handling it better than most.”

She exhaled, tension loosening a notch. “That’s kind of you.”

Inside the ballroom, Thomas concluded a conversation with a venture capitalist, his attention already drifting before the man finished speaking. His gaze searched automatically.

Piper wasn’t where she should have been.

His eyes sharpened. Scanned the room easily. Then, as if pulled by instinct, he turned toward the balcony.

He saw her.

Saw her talking to a man.

Paused.

The sight struck harder than it should have. The conversation seemed too relaxed, too intimate. The man's body angled toward hers, her expression open in a way he hadn’t seen all evening.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, stepping a little closer.

She nodded. “Yes. Just overwhelmed.”

“That’s understandable.” He shifted nearer—not invasive, but closer than courtesy required. “You’re… different from the women in there.”

Her brows knit. “Different how?”

“You are real.” He smiled. “They perform.”

Discomfort stirred. Piper looked back toward the city, unsure how to respond, the moment stretching a little.

Behind them, the balcony doors slid open.

Thomas stepped out.

Didn’t announce himself.

Didn’t interrupt.

He simply stopped.

Because Daniel’s head moved.

The movement hurried, calculated and completely unapologetic.

His face snapped near hers and he dropped a kiss on her lip, ensuring that Thomas saw it.

Piper froze.

Her body reacted before her mind—muscles locking, breath stalling. Her eyes flew open, shock rippling through her body as confusion flared hot and bright.

“What the heck di—?”

Thomas saw it.

Not just the kiss.

The proximity.

The audacity!

Something dark and violent twisted in his chest, jealousy so sharp it startled even him. A visceral, burning rage that roared through his blood, louder than he’d ever allowed himself to feel.

“—Piper!”

Her head snapped towards him.

“Thomas— I—” She stepped away instantly, carving space between herself and Daniel. “I don't know who—”

Daniel was already retreating, hands raised, expression contrite—but his eyes flicked with cool control and awareness. “My mistake.”

He walked past Thomas without slowing.

Their gazes collided.

Thomas’s eyes burned into him, his hand restrained itself from landing a punch on the guy's nose.

Then, he turned back to Piper.

“Inside.”

The word dropped like broken ice, slicing clean through the night.

Piper followed him into the ballroom, heart slamming against her ribs. Humiliation crawled up her spine, heat flooding her cheeks. She tried to speak—but he didn’t slow.

Didn’t look at her.

Miles away, Paige received another text message as she poured herself a glass of wine.

    'It’s done. He saw it.'

Paige lifted the glass.

Smiled, and drank.

Thomas stopped near a marble column—just far enough from the crowd to speak, just close enough that Piper felt watched from every direction.

“Do you enjoy attention?” he asked quietly, fury packed tight beneath control.

Her breath caught. “What?”

“I leave you alone for five minutes, and another man thinks he can touch what’s mine?”

“I didn’t—” her voice faltered. “I didn’t know he would. I swear.”

“No. It's just a game to you, is it not?"  His voice dropped lower. “A game where you take my money, then, embarrass me for making the unfortunate decision of letting you into my world."

“No,” she said quickly. “I didn’t know him. He just—he spoke to me. I didn’t invite—”

“You think I'm stupid?” Thomas spoke through clenched teeth. “You think I didn't see a man kiss you?”

“I didn’t allow it,” she insisted, her voice trembling now. “I stepped away the moment—”

“You didn’t step away fast enough.” His jaw flexed. “You forget yourself far too easily.” He exhaled sharply. “Are you truly this cheap, Piper?”

The words struck like a slap.

Her stomach sank, hollow and twisting. Her hands trembled slightly at her sides, and for a heartbeat she wanted to disappear.

Pain flared behind her eyes, sudden and blinding. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” A humorless laugh escaped him. “You’re in a room full of people waiting for me to slip. And you hand them ammunition.”

She swallowed hard, shoulders tightening, voice barely steady. “I didn’t mean—”

“That’s the problem.” He leaned closer, his voice sharp but contained, each word lethal. “You always do things you don't mean." He paused. "I am so disappointed.”

There was nothing left to say.

Piper stood there, speechless and humiliated, shrinking beneath Thomas's gaze that had already decided she was guilty, while the music stringed around them like mockery.

A few glances flicked toward them from across the ballroom—subtle, curious, the faintest recognition that something was wrong, trouble in paradise.

Thomas turned away, re-joined the event.

And left her standing there alone.